Veronica’s pulse pounded in her ears, her instincts screaming at her to react. She cursed herself for being only good at blowing up threats, rather than noticing them. In that split second, she had already begun drawing mana. She was ready to unleash a spell to obliterate the person who had snuck up on her—only for her brain to finally catch up with her body.

  The person in front of her wasn’t some cultist, assassin, or even a bandit.

  It was a kid.

  A scrawny boy, no older than ten or twelve, dressed in plain but slightly dirty clothes, his face smeared with just enough dirt to suggest he’d been wandering the forest for a while. He leaned to the right, sneaking a peek at the cloaked figures. The wide grin on his face was not matching the situation at all.

  His brown eyes were shining with excitement rather than fear.

  Veronica blinked, her body relaxing slightly as she realized she had nearly incinerated a random child.

  She narrowed her eyes, then firmly grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand away from her mouth. “Who the hell are you?” she hissed in a whisper. “And why are you here?”

  The boy wiped his hand on his tunic as if she had somehow contaminated him. He grinned and pointed a thumb at himself. “Commander of Greystone’s military, and future hero of the kingdom!”

  Veronica continued to stare at him. She wasn’t buying it.

  Seeing her intense glare, he began scratching the back of his head. “Um… name’s Finn. I just like to wander, y’know? Explore. Find cool stuff. I saw these weird guys creeping around out here, so I started watching ’em.”

  Veronica stared at him. “You what?”

  “Yeah! I’ve been spying and following them for a couple of weeks now,” he whispered, eyes flicking back and forth between her and the figures moving toward the ruins. “They only show up every so often. Always real sneaky-like.”

  Veronica narrowed her eyes. “You followed them here?”

  The boy shrugged. “Sort of. I like exploring out here, but when I saw them sneaking around in those creepy masks, I figured they were up to something.” He tilted his head at her. “You don’t look like one of them, though, miss. Who are you?”

  Veronica resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose.

  Of all the things she had expected today, random town kid with a habit of tailing potential cultists was not one of them.

  “Listen,” she whispered. Her voice was low and firm. “This isn’t a game. You shouldn’t be out here. Those people might be dangerous.”

  “Well, yeah,” he admitted, “but that’s why I stayed hidden.” He grinned again, as if proud of himself. “Besides, you’re here too, so that means you think they’re up to something shady, right?”

  Veronica stared at him. “Are you stupid? You’re a kid.”

  The boy’s smirk didn’t falter. “Yeah, but I haven’t been caught yet. And you don’t look that much older than me.”

  “I’m probably twenty years older than you!” she shouted in a whisper.

  “You’re that old?” he asked.

  “Yes, I’m—”

  [Your current age is 19 years old if Sena’s information is correct.]

  Veronica paused. “N-no. I’m—I’m probably ten years older than you!” She let out an exasperated breath, ignoring the correction. “Alright, Finn—that’s great that you haven’t been caught. But you need to get back to town. Right now.”

  Finn’s face twisted into something of a pout. “But I just got here.”

  Veronica groaned internally. This kid is going to be a problem.

  She glanced back toward the ruins. The cloaked figures were still moving with careful precision, their hushed voices too quiet to make out from this distance. Why exactly were they here?

  Her focus snapped back to the boy. “And in all this time, you never thought to tell anyone? About these creepy guys hanging out in the forest?”

  Finn made a face, tilting his head from side to side. “Eh. Thought about it. But figured no one would believe me. You know a man named Old Thom? He saw these guys too, but now everyone just calls him crazy. ’Sides, what if they are up to something bad? If I just go blabbing, they might disappear before I figure it out. Gotta be smart about these things.”

  Veronica had to give him some credit—he had more sense than most kids his age to think that far ahead—but still.

  She fixed him with a sharp glare. “Finn, do you have any idea how dangerous this could be?”

  Finn’s face turned serious. “Sure. That’s why I don’t get too close. I’m the best spy in Greystone. Not dying is the second best thing I'm good at. Ten years and going.”

  Veronica took a deep inhale. Oh, for the love of—

  She turned her attention back toward the ruins. The masked figures were approaching the center of the ruined stone pile.

  She turned back to Finn. “Alright, since you seem to know so much, tell me—how many of them usually show up?”

  Finn tilted his head in thought. “Depends. Sometimes just three or four. Other times, maybe seven or eight. They come mostly at night; sometimes they might come during the day, when people are busy with lunch and stuff, like now. Today’s looking like one of the smaller groups.”

  Veronica counted the figures she could see. Four.

  “How long do they stay?” she pressed.

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  “Sometimes an hour, sometimes more. Never less than ten minutes,” he whispered, shifting on his heels. “Dunno why, though. They don’t always do the same thing. Sometimes they do some weird chant. Other times, they move the rocks around.”

  That was enough to confirm something for Veronica. They weren’t just passing through. Whatever they were doing here, it had purpose.

  Veronica was still angry that a kid was out here, being so reckless, but she lowered her voice, trying to speak calmly. “Have you ever seen them do anything… unnatural? Anything involving blood, symbols, or sacrifices?”

  Finn frowned slightly, thinking. “No sacrifices, but sometimes they draw stuff in the dirt or carve into the stone. I saw one of ’em once take out a bottle of something and pour it on the ground. Smelled real bad.” He wrinkled his nose. “Like rotten eggs, but worse.”

  Veronica’s expression darkened.

  Sulfur.

  She had seen enough summoning rituals in her past life to recognize the signs. Even if they weren’t fully committing to dark magic yet, they were close.

  Veronica clenched her jaw, thinking. She peeked back at the cultists.

  She needed more information. Needed to hear what they were saying, get a better look at their markings. If they were preparing for something, she needed to know what.

  But there was also Finn.

  She couldn’t leave him here. If something went wrong, if the cloaked figures noticed them, she could handle herself. He couldn’t. She didn’t have many defensive spells, besides a personal barrier that strictly drew on her own mana pool—a pool that was currently dismally small. If any of them were mages, she'd be in trouble. Her current mana pool wasn't the greatest either after helping the guards.

  “C’mon,” he whispered eagerly. “I know a spot where we can get a better look.”

  She turned, giving him an incredulous stare. “Are you seriously—”

  But before she could finish, Finn was already creeping forward, slipping through the underbrush with the ease of someone who had done this far too many times before.

  “Holy shit, you stupid child!” she cursed quietly, seeing him move.

  Veronica had half a mind to grab him and haul him back to town herself, but the figures in the ruins were still moving, and if she left now, she’d miss out on what they were doing. By the time she could second-guess herself, Finn was already too far ahead. If she let this kid wander off alone, there was a real chance he’d get himself caught.

  With a muttered curse, she followed.

  Damn it. This is such a bad idea!

  Finn led her through the underbrush. He was surprisingly quiet. It was clear he’d done this a lot. Maybe that was how he had snuck up on her. His footsteps were practically invisible. Veronica followed, trying her best to keep her movements just as muted.

  He stopped behind a cluster of jagged rocks, crouching low. With a grin, he gestured for her to join him and whispered. “See? Perfect spot.”

  Veronica knelt beside him, peering out toward the ruins. From here, she had a clear view of the group. The cloaked figures had arranged themselves in a loose circle within what must have once been the central courtyard. The tall one seemed like their leader. They stood at the front, their hoods slightly lowered, though their masks still obscured their faces.

  “The time draws near.”

  Their voice was deep, distorted slightly, either by magic or some kind of mask filter. It echoed against the broken stone walls, sending an unnatural chill through the air.

  Another cloaked individual stepped forward, bowing slightly. “We are prepared, as instructed. The next offering will be secured soon.”

  Offering?

  Veronica’s fingers curled into a fist.

  The leader tilted their head. “Good. The vessel must be ready before the appointed night. The Ronswick envoy will arrive in three days,” the leader intoned. “Everything must be in place by then.”

  One of the masked figures nodded. “The plan is set. When the time comes, we will proceed as instructed.”

  Veronica’s mind raced. So they’re working with—or at least planning something around—the Ronswicks?

  That noble family had arrived in Greystone a little over a week ago, according to Garrick, and now this cult was timing something to coincide with their next arrival.

  She wasn’t sure yet how it all connected, but she didn’t like it.

  Finn shifted beside her, his earlier curiosity giving way to something more serious. “They’ve never talked this much before,” he whispered. “Usually, they just stand around and do the weird chants. I’ve heard them mention the name Ronswick in the past few days, though.”

  Veronica hummed in acknowledgment, keeping her focus ahead. She wasn’t about to let them slip away without at least something useful.

  One of the cloaked figures stepped forward, carrying a small satchel. From it, they withdrew a handful of dark, crumbling powder and scattered it in a wide arc across the ground. A faint shimmer rippled through the air above it.

  A ritual circle.

  Veronica tensed, recognizing what they were doing.

  The leader extended a hand, and the air seemed to tighten. “The old seals weaken,” they murmured, more to themselves than the others. “Once this is all complete, we shall have the power we all dreamed of.”

  A low hum filled the courtyard as the masked figures began a slow, rhythmic chant. The air itself felt heavier, charged with something just beneath the surface. It was magic, but not like hers. It was wrong, twisted, like it was feeding on something unseen.

  The leader traced a symbol in the air, and mana shimmered, reacting to their touch.

  Veronica remained still, her breath tense as she watched the ritual unfold.

  The magic in the air grew denser, thick with an unnatural presence. Crimson light pulsed with every air-drawn symbol the leader made, quickly fading into the ritual’s swirling energy. The other cultists murmured in unison.

  She recognized the signs. It was definitely a form of demon summoning.

  However, they weren’t summoning yet. This seemed more like a practice run. The amount of material they had was low. There was no way that was enough to perform such a ritual—not even a low-level one. Not to mention the sacrifices needed.

  So they aren’t summoning tonight… just preparing.

  Finn shifted beside her, clearly uneasy now. Even he could feel it; there was an unnatural weight pressing against them. His earlier excitement had dimmed, replaced by wary and serious fascination.

  Several long minutes of chanting passed before the leader finally lowered their arms.

  The leader surveyed the gathered members. “This is the last practice. Next time, we call upon it for real. The next few days will be dedicated to finishing site preparation.”

  A ripple of excitement, restrained but present, passed through the group.

  Veronica narrowed her eyes. As if I’ll let you do it this easily.

  She had seen enough. If they had pacts in mind, she needed to disrupt them before they could even attempt it. That meant gathering more information and finding out who they were.

  And right now, this was her best chance. However, she couldn’t simply attack all of them. It may alert the rest of the cultists, or even worse, they could prove more troublesome than she could handle. She still needed some time to attune and advance her tiers.

  With a steady breath, she pressed her hands against the ground. A tiny white wing gleamed on the back of her right hand. She needed to catch a glimpse of them.

  Displace, if she recalled the name correctly—it could slightly open cracks, or cause things to rumble and rupture. It was only a Tier-1 spell, therefore; it was quite weak.

  As one of the cloaked figures stepped forward, Veronica focused on the spot beneath their foot, shaping the spell so that the dirt gave way just enough to send them stumbling.

  The result was immediate. Mana pulsed from her hands, coursing underground to her target.

  The ground shifted beneath the cultist’s step, and with a sharp gasp, they tripped forward, their hood falling back and mask shifting down.

  Veronica tensed, her eyes immediately locking onto their face.

  It wasn’t someone she recognized. They were young, maybe late twenties, with sharp features and dark hair. The mask still covered their lower face, but she memorized every detail she could before they hastily pulled their hood back up.

  The leader’s head snapped toward them. “What happened?”

  The fallen figure quickly steadied themselves. “The ground… it—” They cut themselves off, shaking their head. “It’s nothing. Must’ve been loose soil.”

  The leader didn’t look convinced, but after a long pause, they gave a quick nod. “We’re done here. Leave nothing behind.”

  One of the cultists stepped forward, retrieving the satchel and scattering another handful of powder over the ritual circle. The shimmer faded instantly, the magic dispersing as if it had never been there.

  Then, one by one, they slipped away, vanishing into the forest.

  Veronica let out a slow, steady breath.

  “That. Was. Awesome!”

  She turned her head just in time to see Finn staring at her, eyes wide with excitement.

  “You’re a mage?” he whispered, practically bouncing where he crouched. “I knew you were cool!”

  Veronica sighed. “Keep your voice down, idiot.”