Derek folded his arms and sighed. How long were they going to stall before letting him see Alyra?

  The waiting hall at the Novice school stretched wide and rectangular, its polished floor slick enough that his boots nearly squeaked. Warm light spilled through tall arched windows and caught on embroidered wall hangings, each one showing an idealized warrior frozen in a flawless stance beside the haloed symbol of Orbisar.

  Great for forging soldiers and zealots alike. Efficient.

  Incense and oiled wood hung in the air, while a muffled rhythm of steady thuds leaked from deeper inside the building. Fists or feet slamming into someone unlucky.

  At the center lay a circular rug woven with seven concentric rings linked by curved lines, a stylized map of the chakras. Across from the windows, glass cases displayed training weapons—staves, blunted blades, reinforced gloves—lined up with the reverence of relics.

  The place felt like a cross between monastery and barracks. Calm, disciplined, and just spiritual enough to make his skin crawl. Strength and faith twisted so tightly together here that tearing one free would shred the other with it.

  Last time, barging in during training had spared him this kind of wait. Should’ve done it again.

  A glossy red door creaked open.

  Alyra stepped timidly into the hall, eyes fixed in the opposite direction from where he stood. “Derek? Is that really you?”

  He grinned. “Alyra! Finally.”

  She spun like she’d touched a live wire, dropping straight into a fighting stance, guard raised just as he remembered from Ebonshade. Eyes wide. Breathing sharp.

  The grin slipped from his face. The kid was strung tight as a bowstring. “Alyra, wha—”

  “Derek!” She bolted toward him and nearly knocked him over in a hug.

  “Whoa, what’s gotten into you, kid?”

  Her grip crushed tighter than he expected. The girl was getting stronger by the day. They must have been putting her through brutal training. Either way, hugs weren’t his thing. He lifted his hands and waited her out.

  She let go almost at once, face flushed as she stepped back with a hand over her mouth. “Oh, Orbisar, sorry. I just… I wasn’t sure I’d really find you here. When they told me to come without warning, I thought it was a Cult ambush and—”

  “A Cult ambush?” Derek nearly barked. What the hell was going on with her? Still rattled from Ebonshade? “Okay, slow down. Breathe. I’m not catching a damn thing you’re saying.”

  Alyra nodded and pulled in two deep breaths.

  “Better now?”

  “Y-yeah. I think so.”

  Her cheeks were still flushed, chest rising and falling fast, but at least her breathing had evened out.

  Derek narrowed his eyes. “Good. Because I swear I just heard you say something about the Cult of the Dead. So maybe start from the top and tell me what the hell that’s about.”

  “Sierelith,” Alyra said.

  Derek’s brow arched. “Wait. The heretic spy? Daughter of Korrigan Malzar, leader of the heretics? Your kidnapper? The one wanted by pretty much the entire Church? That Sierelith? She’s… here? In this school?”

  Alyra nodded, eyes darting around the hall. “She might be here right now. Maybe even listening. She can make herself invisible!”

  Derek rolled his eyes at the ceiling. “Kid, the last few days fried your nerves. Can’t blame you, you’ve been through hell, but—”

  “No, I’m telling you, she’s here!” Alyra snapped, her cheeks burning.

  Derek blinked. She looked half-unhinged. Or maybe she really had seen something. “You mean you thought you spotted her somewhere? Out of the corner of your eye?”

  “No. She came to my quarters. She spoke to me.”

  His chest tightened. “When? What did she say?”

  “A few days ago. She said there’s a Cult spy in the school, and she wants me to help find her.”

  Derek’s frown deepened. “Why you?”

  Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

  “Because they want me. She says that makes me the best person to uncover her.”

  He scratched at his beard. Annoyingly, it made sense. If someone was targeting Alyra, sooner or later they’d make a move. All she had to do was wait. “So why didn’t you call the guards right away?”

  Alyra stared at him, throat working. Her face drained of color.

  Derek stepped closer. All at once she looked like the same fragile kid he’d first found in the jungle. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “She knows.” Alyra’s gaze locked onto him, hard.

  His eyes widened. “You’re sure? She knows… about you?”

  She nodded.

  He clenched his fists. Damn it. The spy had figured out the Death sphere’s corruption in Alyra’s hand chakras. Now she also knew about his illusion sphere trick, the one he’d used to fool the Council, and about Alyra’s secret. That gave her leverage over both of them.

  If she started demanding the unacceptable in exchange for silence, then it was time Sierelith learned a lesson. Maybe a scare would be enough, though he doubted it.

  Alyra pressed a hand to her forehead like she was burning with fever. “Sierelith still wants to know if you’re really the Cashnar. That’s why she kidnapped me in the first place. But even after what she saw you do in Ebonshade, she’s not convinced.”

  “And what the hell does the Cult of the Dead have to do with me?”

  Alyra shrugged. “She said her father’s worried about them. That he wants to oppose them.”

  Derek stroked his rough beard. That was bizarre. Korrigan’s number one enemy was Uriela. Anyone giving Uriela trouble should’ve been a golden opportunity—maybe even a potential ally. Not an enemy. “You’re sure that’s what she said?”

  She nodded.

  More likely, that illusion-slinging fox was playing a chess game of her own, hiding her real motives.

  He let out a breath. “Fine. As much as I hate to admit it, Sierelith’s never really tried to hurt you. Not deliberately, anyway. Sure, she’s put you at risk, but they were risks she took on herself first.”

  Alyra looked up at him, hanging on every word.

  “My advice? Do what she says for now. If the Cult’s managed to infiltrate here, nowhere is safe. Thanks to her, you at least know they’re planning a move. That gives you the chance to unmask them.”

  Alyra straightened, determination flashing back into her eyes. “All right. I’ll do it. You can count on me.”

  “The Cult seemed convinced you’d go to them willingly,” Derek said. “Odds are, they’ll try persuasion first.”

  At that, she smiled. “Then they’ll just waste their breath.”

  “Don’t underestimate words, kid. They can twist you before you realize it.”

  Alyra shook her head hard. “I’d never betray you!”

  Derek studied her. Everything she’d been through was changing her fast, but some lessons still hadn’t landed. “Alyra, you can do whatever the hell you want with your life. If you honestly think you’d be happier with a bunch of creepy hood-wearing weirdos…” He shrugged. “That’s your call. I’m not your judge. I did creepier stuff than that when I was your age.”

  She frowned but kept quiet.

  He set a hand on her shoulder. “I’m not the Church. I’m not the Awakened Chain. And I’m sure as hell not a necromancer. I’m just me. Whatever you choose—if it makes you happy—I’ll back it.” He pointed toward the sky, a smile tugging at his lips. “When the time comes, I’ll still take you with me to the stars. If you still want to go.”

  She finally nodded, hesitant, like her mind was still grinding through what he’d just said.

  Derek held her gaze as Alyra’s eyes shifted—from lost and frightened to steadier, more certain with every passing second.

  “Derek?” she asked.

  “Yeah?”

  “You don’t really think the Cult of the Dead are evil, do you?”

  He shook his head. “There are evil people, sure. But you can’t paint everyone with the same brush. Most of them are just people grieving someone they lost. They cling to that cult because it gives them a way to see their loved ones again.”

  And he would’ve done the same, if Yuki had left even a body to bring back.

  But the universe hadn’t granted him that much.

  “Okay,” she said at last. “Then I’ll do what you say.”

  Derek nodded. “Good. But don’t breathe a word to Isabelle. She’d cut down every cultist in sight—and Sierelith too—with that oversized sword of hers without thinking twice. This stays between us.”

  Alyra dropped her gaze.

  Derek squinted. “What now? You look like somebody just shot your dog.”

  “Sierelith also said that you and Isabelle fought.”

  Derek tilted his head. Why the hell had she told Alyra that? What game was she playing? “Yeah, well, Isabelle handed you—a thirteen-year-old kid—a Bronze-rank Death sphere. She had no right to do that.”

  Alyra pouted. “I’m almost fourteen.”

  “And if you actually make it to fourteen, it won’t be thanks to her. Odds were that energy would’ve killed you the second it hit your body. They don’t call it the ‘Death’ sphere for marketing reasons.”

  “I found Isabelle on the ground, holding the sphere. She tried to stand but couldn’t.”

  Derek rolled his eyes at the ceiling. “Yeah, she told me. Said she tried to bring it to me herself but couldn’t manage. Poor thing. Can we please change the subject?”

  Alyra ignored him. “Isabelle didn’t do anything wrong. My dream is to help you and her fight monsters like the ones we faced in Ebonshade. To protect innocent people. That day, Isabelle gave me the chance to do that. You can’t blame her for it!”

  “Oh, so that’s your dream? Killing monsters.” Derek’s smile came out bitter. “I thought it was traveling the stars.”

  Alyra frowned. “I’m thirteen, not eight. Of course I’d love to see the worlds you’ve been to up there. But my home is here. And I’m training to defend it, just like you and Isabelle. I don’t want what happened to my village to ever happen again.”

  Derek sighed. Erasmus Morchant had told him this world had lived under siege from magical creatures since the days Egyptians built pyramids. Generations spent fighting monsters couldn’t be undone by the promise of a joyride in a spaceship. “Alyra… it doesn’t have to stay this way. Things can change.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean I’m going to figure out where those damned metal spheres you all worship really come from. And once I do—and trust me, I will—I’ll put a stop to all of it.” He slashed the air with his hand. “No more spheres. No more monsters. And no more Orbisar.”

  Alyra stared at him, mouth hanging open.

  He watched the realization dawn in her eyes, spreading slowly as the weight of his words sank in.

  “You… you can really do that?” she whispered.

  Derek nodded. “I think I can, yeah. But don’t mistake this for charity. I’ve got my own motives. Once I crack how this tech works, I’ll be the richest man in the galaxy.” A thin smile curved his lips. “And when that’s done, I’ll make sure the people of this planet rejoin the rest of humanity. All of you will have access to the stars, the way it should be. The Middle Ages ended a long time ago.”

  Alyra’s eyes went wide. “You… you want to steal the spheres from this world? Just to get rich?”

  “That’s the short version, yeah. Let’s go with that.”

  Alyra turned, took a few steps toward the door, then stopped.

  She looked back at him. “Derek… you’re… a thief?”

  Finally. Took her long enough. He grinned. “Yeah, Alyra. I’m a thief. A specialist in ancient tech. I wasn’t always, but that’s what I am now. And these spheres of yours? They’re some of the most incredible artifacts I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

  She stared at him like she was seeing him for the first time. “The people here revere you as the Messiah. They believe in you. I believe in you.”

  Derek folded his arms. “Not my problem. I never asked anyone to believe in me. Not on purpose, anyway.”

  Alyra shook her head firmly. “Since I met you, you’ve done nothing but save lives. You helped us in the jungle, you came for me in Ebonshade. I don’t think there was anything down there worth stealing. No, you’re not just a thief.”

  He rolled his eyes at the ceiling. “Now you’re starting to sound just like Isabelle.”

  She lowered her gaze. “I’m honored to be compared to her. Are you going to hate her forever? She cares about you.”

  He snorted. “She cares about the Cashnar, not me. When she figures out I’m just a thief, you’ll see, she’ll change her tune. And maybe you should too.”

  Alyra covered her mouth, her eyes drifting off.

  He’d dumped a lot on her, but better to set the record straight before she got too attached. She was alone in the world, it was natural she’d cling to the first person who showed her kindness.

  But now Alyra had a place to belong. Whether it was the Church, the Awakened Chain, or even the Cult, it didn’t matter.

  Anything was better than following a thief wanted across half the galaxy, hounded by the damn universe itself. If she still chose to follow him into the stars, at least she’d know exactly what she was signing up for.

  “No,” Alyra said sharply.

  Derek raised his brows. “No?”

  Her eyes shimmered. “You don’t really hate Isabelle. And you’re not just a thief. I know you’re not here only to steal. You’re here because of the woman you loved, you’re here to help me, and to help Isabelle too!” Her voice climbed. “You’re the Cashnar, you’re here to help the whole world. I don’t know why you’re saying these things, but I don’t want to hear them anymore. Go away!” She spun and bolted for the door.

  What the hell? “Alyra!” he shouted.

  But she was already gone, the door slamming shut behind her.