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"We should get going," I managed. Ma set the mirror down carefully, like it was something precious, and stood.

For a moment, we just looked at each other. The shop seemed to close in around us, heavy with memories—countless afternoons spent grinding herbs, early mornings re-organizing shelves, late nights preparing tonics for the Sídhe elite, laughing at the absurdity until we nearly cried. She'd given me everything when I had nothing. A home. A purpose. Love without conditions.

"You know," Ma's voice was rough as she pulled me into a hug, "I always wondered why you seemed so different from us." Her arms tightened around me. "But now I think maybe you were meant for something bigger than Sídhe could offer."

"Ma—" My voice cracked.

"No, listen." She pulled back, her hands on my shoulders. "I've spent years watching you try to make yourself smaller, trying to fit into boxes that this realm forced you into. But you never could, could you?" Her eyes were bright with tears. "Because you're not meant to be small, Fia. You never were."

I broke then, tears spilling down my cheeks as I fell back into her arms. She smelled like home—like rosemary and fire. "I'm scared," I whispered against her shoulder.

"Good." She stroked my hair. "Fear keeps you sharp. Keeps you from doing anything too stupid." She paused. "Well, more stupid than usual."

The back door creaked open, and I knew Aether had returned. Ma pulled back, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

"You take care of my girl," she said to him, and though her voice shook, there was steel beneath it.

"Always," he said it like a vow.

Ma nodded once, then turned back to me. "Go change the world, kid." She pressed a kiss to my forehead. "Just try not to burn it all down in the process."

I laughed through my tears, and then she was shoving us toward the door, muttering about how she wasn't good at goodbyes. But as we slipped into the darkness, I caught one last glimpse of her through the window—standing alone in her shop, holding that mirror like an anchor.

CHAPTER FIFTY

A block from the Compound,we pressed against the cold stone of an alley wall. The fortress-like building stretched countless stories into the sky, its black stone walls reflecting the moonlight. Guard towers punctuated each corner, though only the front entrance was lit by iron lanterns that cast pools of yellow light across the cobblestones.

"I'm following your lead," Aether said, his voice low beside me, "but we're sticking to the plan. We destroy the blood oaths, then we leave. Nothing more."

I nodded, watching the main gates where two guards in crisp white shirts lounged against their posts. Their silver badges gleamed as they chatted, clearly relaxed in the quieter evening hours. Before, the entrance would have been flooded with personnel, but with everyone stationed out West, it looked like a ghost of its former self.

"This way." I pulled us toward the Eastern wall where the healers' wing jutted out from the main building. Our forms dissolved into shadow as we approached. A simple metal door broke up the otherwise smooth surface.

I reached out with my focus, tracking the minds within. One silver orb of consciousness passed by on the other side, growing fainter as footsteps echoed away.

"Now," I whispered, and we slipped through like smoke.

Inside, rows of storage rooms lined a narrow hallway, their oak doors marked with brass plaques. The air smelled of herbs and antiseptic—so different from the metallic tang of the training gyms. No minds glowed behind these doors, thankfully. I led us right, our shadows hugging the walls until the corridor opened into a wider space. There, several minds were clustered in a room with light spilling out from under the door.

The infirmary. We were close.

"It's there." My pulse quickened as I spotted the heavy iron door at the end of the hall—the blood oath chamber.

Multiple locks lined the door's edge, but they meant nothing to us now. We shifted through like mist, materializing in a chamber that remained unchanged from the last time I'd broken in. Hundreds of glass vials lined the walls from floor to ceiling, each one containing tiny papers dotted with crimson. Black vines writhed between them, weeping a sticky sap that dripped onto the floor. The whole room felt wrong—like walking into something alive and hungry.

In stone planters along the walls, shards of arcanite glowed with that familiar violet-blue light. The same ones I'd seen months ago, when I'd come here to collect my own vial.

Aether paused beside me, tension radiating from his frame. "Bloodweep," he said, his voice tight. "We used it in Umbrathia too, before the Queen banned it. She called it barbaric."

"Well, she wasn't wrong." I remembered how the sap had coated my arm that first time, how it had seemed to reach for me with a mind of its own.

"The vials mean nothing without the plant." Aether moved closer to one of the planters, studying the twisted vines. "Kill it,and the oaths dry up. They might not notice for weeks, maybe even longer."

"Better than smashing everything." I glanced at the thousands of vials. "So how do we kill this thing?"

"Like any other plant." He stepped up to the first planter, holding his hand over the dark soil. "We destroy it from the inside out."

I watched, transfixed, as the vines began to tremble. Beneath the surface, something cracked—the sound of roots snapping echoing through the chamber. Aether moved methodically from planter to planter, that deadly grace in every movement as the bloodied leaves shook beneath his touch.