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Tiny Silas winks at Luna—who looks deeply concerned—and then scampers toward the locked door. His proportions are perfect. Smaller frame, still impossibly cocky. He crawls under the old wood like a cat-burglar on pixie dust, muttering things like, “Gonna find your secrets, spooky office,” and “This ass was made for infiltration.”

Riven pinches the bridge of his nose like he’s deciding whether homicide is a justifiable reaction.

“You know,” I murmur to Luna without looking at her, “there’s a very real possibility that Silas is the most dangerous one of us.”

“Notpossible,” she mutters back. “Definite.”

A click echoes through the hall. The door groans. Not violently this time—justopens, like it’s reconsidering its entire existence in the face of pure chaos.

Tiny Silas peeks back around the edge and throws us double finger-guns. “You’re welcome, peasants.”

Then he vanishes in a pop of glitter and smugness.

Silas bows like he’s just performed Hamlet naked.

“That... actually worked,” Caspian says under his breath.

“Of course it worked,” I say, already stepping forward, voice low and dry. “The universe rewards idiots and chaos. Haven’t you been paying attention?”

The door stands open now. Darkness yawns inside the office, deep and undisturbed. And for the first time, I feel it—somethingoldin the air. Something not meant to be seen.

“Stay close,” I murmur.

We step into the dark together.

The air is wrong. Not stale, not heavy with time the way old places get when they’ve been left alone too long—butclean.Impossibly so. No dust on the books, no webs in the corners. Not a single sign of disuse. It feels… kept. Tended. And that’s far worse.

Silas pulls his shirt back on, though, in true Silas fashion, he doesn’t bother with the buttons. He looks like a half-drunk pirate on vacation, but there’s a stillness to him I don’t miss. Evenhefeels it—this isn’t just a locked door and a few old ghosts. Something’s been here recently. Something might still be.

“We should split up,” I say quietly, my voice the only one that doesn’t echo. The acoustics are off—flat, like the space swallows sound before it can make it past the person beside you. “We’re looking for anything on the Pillars. Records. Diagrams. Notes. Preferably something that doesn’t require decoding ancient tongues and blood rites to read.”

“Ugh,” Elias mutters, dragging his fingers down the spine of a shelf. “You meannoblood rites? Why do I even come on these trips?”

“Because you love me,” Silas offers, grinning over his shoulder.

“Because Luna asked,” Elias snaps back, but there’s no venom in it.

Caspian doesn’t speak. He heads for the far wall, where the books look oldest—spines brittle, some barely holding together.His fingers hover instead of touch, like even now, he’s afraid he’llbreaksomething just by being near it.

Luna moves past me without a word, I watch her brush her hand along the edge of the desk, her eyes narrowing when she finds the surface pristine. No dust. No smudges. It gleams like someone polished itthis morning.

“There’s no way no one’s been in here,” she murmurs, more to herself than anyone else.

“No,” I agree. “Which means we’re either expected… or trespassing on something older than Blackwell.”

Silas flips a book upside down, rifles through it, then tosses it over his shoulder. “No secret codes. No naked doodles. This guy’s a disgrace to evil headmasters everywhere.”

“Please don’t destroy everything until we find something useful,” I say, stepping toward the center of the room and letting my hand drift across the air above the books. My power prickles at my palm. Something in hereispossessed—but not by me. Not yet. Whatever claim’s been laid on this place isn’t one I can overwrite without cost.

And I’m not in the mood to bleed.

“We’ll be here all night,” Elias mutters, already slumped into one of the old chairs with a book open on his lap. “Should’ve brought snacks.”

“We did,” Silas replies, holding up a pouch of gummy bears and promptly shoving a handful into his mouth.

I don’t bother asking where he got them.

Instead, I focus on the books. The Pillars. There has to be something—anything—about their creation, their magic, their link to Luna. We can’t keep moving blind.