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“There is nothing more wewilldo for you,” Azalia clarified. “It is time for you and your companions to leave Graevale. And know this: you will not be welcome amongst the Shadow Walkers should you decide to return.”

Alex tried one last time. “Please, you need to listen—”

“Come, Alexandra,” Caspar Lennox interrupted quietly, having stepped up silently beside her. “It is time to return to the academy.”

Knowing her teacher was aware of the stakes and yet he was pulling her away, Alex felt heartsick with dejection. The elders weren’t going to change their minds. And without the Shadow Walkers agreeing to an alliance, the Dayriders wouldn’t, either. And the Flips and the Jarnocks wouldn’t fall into line. Everything Alex had worked towards had all been for nothing.

Biting hard on her cheek to keep from revealing the devastation she felt, Alex turned and followed Caspar Lennox towards the staircase. Just before she descended and moved out of sight, she looked over her shoulder one last time. Ignoring Marcus’s fake compassion—something that appeared genuine enough to nearly fool even her—she made eye contact with the elders and whispered, “You mightn’t be willing to stand with us, but when the time comes and you need our help, we will come.”

And, after taking in Azalia’s arched eyebrow, Radek’s bored features and Saber’s still pensive expression, Alex followed her teacher from the balcony, collected her friends and returned to the academy, leaving her hopes crashing and burning back in Graevale.

That night during Alex’s training with Athora and Kaiden, she was distracted, her mind filled with anger and hurt and hopelessness so intense it was crushing.

Her friends had been outraged by the elders’ decision, and Jordan had been horrified to learn of his father’s involvement. The shadows in his eyes had returned with a vengeance, and D.C. and Bear had still been consoling him as Alex had made her flimsy excuses to escape for her secret Library lesson, claiming she was off to deliver the bad news to Kyia and Zain—which shewas, just not until after her time with Athora.

If Jordan had been distraught about the events in Graevale, Niyx had been apoplectic with rage. He, more than Alex’s friends, knew how much everything was taking its toll on her. But despite his fury, he’d again assured her that they would find a way without the Shadow Walkers and the others agreeing to an alliance. He’d promised that everything would be okay.

But Alex knew better.

Nothing would be okay.

Because she had failed.

Not even her session in the Library could lift her spirits, despite Athora setting a task that ordinarily would have been fun, with Alex utilising her ‘Chosen’ status to jump in and out of the Library’s ever-changing paintings. Taking Kaiden along with her, together they travelled from ancient battlegrounds to abandoned fortresses, to tropical islands and even to a perfect representation of the Golden Cliffs overlooking the city of Meya, uninhabited as the portrait version was.

Despite the wonder of their painting-journeys, Alex couldn’t forget what had happened that day, and all too soon she was heading to Draekora to advise her Meyarin friends of her failed mission.

Walking through the settlement in the dark of the night, Alex felt miserable. But after speaking with Kyia and Zain, as well as Gaiel, Cykor and Roathus—who had learned Alex was there and demanded to hear what she had to share—Alex felt even more wretched.

The reactions from the Meyarins were both expected and unexpected. Zain and Kyia looked as defeated as Alex felt, though they also assured her all was not lost. Roathus appeared sombre but otherwise kept his dire thoughts to himself. Cykor seemed indifferent—but given Niyx’s less than stellar opinion of his father, not to mention Maggie’s hints about the lacking nurture from both their parents, Alex wasn’t surprised by the Raedon patriarch’s limited concern for others.

All their reactions had been anticipated, but it was Gaiel’s response that baffled Alex. There was no yelling, no accusations and no blaming. In fact, he was almost supportive with his seemingly genuine compassion. Like Kyia and Zain, he claimed that it wasn’t as bad as it seemed and they just needed to come up with a contingency plan.

‘Contingency plan’. Those were the words he used. Like they could calmly and rationally solve their Aven problem, when, from Alex’s experience, Gaiel was normally anythingbutcalm and rational.

She couldn’t help wondering if perhaps he’d been drinking something stronger thanlaendrabefore their meeting. If it hadn’t been for his calculating eyes watching her with clear, intense focus, she would have been certain he was drunk—and a happy, friendly drunk at that.

Eager to escape to the sanctuary of her bed and sleep away the misery of her day, once Alex said all she had come to say, she turned down Zain’s offer to escort her back to the return doorway, not wanting to hear further encouragement. Perhaps in the morning she’d be able to look ahead with a more optimistic outlook, but right now, it was an impossible task.

After agreeing to come back the next day when they’d all had a chance to consider what to do next, Alex left Roka’s tent. She kept her pace brisk as she weaved between the makeshift dwellings of the free Meyarins, none of whom had caused her any problems since her first visit. Still, she always remained vigilant.

She was halfway to the doorway when Gaiel arrived on theValispath, coming to a stop a few feet in front of her. Body tightening, Alex prepared to summon A’enara, but he raised his hands in a surrendering gesture.

“I just want to talk,” he said quickly, his eyes steady on hers.

Regardless of his uncharacteristic amiability all night, Alex couldn’t help treating his words—and his actions—with suspicion.

Seeing her wariness, he quietly said, “I owe you an apology.”

That brought Alex up short. She was certain her shock must have been plastered all over her face.

“Do you mind if—” He cleared his throat and waved a hand in the direction she’d been heading. “May I walk with you? And explain?”

The last thing Alex wanted was to spend more time with Gaiel, but she was curious about his odd behaviour. Tentatively, she nodded. But as they walked along the icy trail, she was careful to keep a cautious distance between them, hyperaware of his every move and ready to summon A’enara at the slightest hint that he was about to try attacking her again or whisking her away on the Eternal Path. All the while, he spoke… and she listened.

On and on he went, sharing the reasons for his unpleasant behaviour, until finally he finished, “… and so, you see, I’ve been taking my anger and frustration out on you. My daughter is alone in the city and she’s all I have left in this world, her mother having passed on long ago after being scratched by a blade laced with Sarnaph blood. It was a horrible, painful death. It was also avoidable, since the blade wasn’t intended to hurt her—indeed, she picked it up herself, cutting her finger when her grip slipped. A tragic accident for which there was no cure.”

Gaiel’s mention of Sarnaph blood made Alex wonder about Fitzy and his plans to weaponise the Meyarin-debilitating spray. They were coming to the end of his projected two weeks now, so she made a mental note to check in and see how close he was to having a working prototype ready.