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No sooner does the thought cross my mind than footsteps clamor over the stone. Sand scatters as a man lands with a heavy thud near me.

Ah, there he finally is… It seems Kaelis feels he’s toyed with me long enough.

There’s a flash of magic as two strong hands reach underneath my arms. A Queen of Cups knits the muscle and tendon of my shoulder, leaving a dull ache behind.

The Queen of Cups might mend the wound, but the phantom aches are always left behind.

Luckily, if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s pushing through pain.

I’m dragged back through the veil of shadow, past the threshold of the door, and onto the cold stone floor beyond, where I am unceremoniously dumped. My consciousness fades in and out as the hands release me. A pause. Then footsteps fading away.

Honestly? He’s going to leave me here?

“Kaelis, you bastard,” I rasp. “If you want me dead, then fucking get on with it already.”

Another stretch of silence after the last footsteps echo. But I can sense he’s still there. I pant softly, the pain subsiding.

“You just wanted me to think I had a chance, didn’t you?”

“I’m not Kaelis,” an unfamiliar voice speaks. It’s softer than Kaelis’s, slightly higher, almost like a whispered song. Shock stills me.

Not Kaelis… but someone who knew this place well enough to be nearby and hear my cries. Or maybe this was the person I sensed following me. I stare up at the ceiling, weighing my options with this stranger. At the very least, he saved my life. That counts for something.

“Do you work for Kaelis?” I ask.

“Don’t we all?” The reluctance in the statement gives me hope. Not exactly a resounding endorsement of the prince—there’s definitely no love in the emptiness of those three words.

I struggle to sit and twist to face him.

The man stands at the border between the light and the darkness, mostly obscured.

From what I can tell, he doesn’t look like a student.

He strikes me as being in his mid-twenties, a touch older than Kaelis.

He wears simple clothes—a loose-fitting, long-sleeved cotton shirt and plain trousers of the type that went out of fashion four years ago.

An outsider? Twenty, I hope so. Maybe our paths crossed because he, too, was making his way to the secret passage. I hope he’s a thieving little rat like me, scurrying right under Kaelis’s nose and driving him mad.

“Don’t go this deep into the academy again,” he warns. “There are dangers in the depths, and you might not be so lucky to have me around next time to save you.”

“I saw the danger firsthand…” I rub my neck. “That’s the way out,right?” Arina is going to gloat until the end of time for managingto get through something that nearly killed me on my first attempt.

“I don’t know. If you’re looking for a way out, follow the rules and use the top of the bridge like all the other students. Don’t go hunting through the ruins in the foundations.” He begins to retreat.

“Wait.” I scramble to my feet, stumbling once. “ Please, wait.” The man pauses. “You know about the academy, clearly. Are you a student?”

No response. It’s hard to make out his face in the dim light of the flames.

“Were you a student? Staff? Faculty?”

Still nothing. He turns again.

“You’re going to leave me here?” I take a step, still swaying as the world tilts.

“I need your hel—” My feet slide out from under me.

Dizziness caused by blood loss overtakes my balance.

But I don’t hit the floor. Instead, I’m met with the warm and sturdy side of this man.

His arm locks with mine and half hoists me upright.

I meet his eyes, about to thank him, but instead I blurt a question. “Do I know you?”

“I have that kind of face.” He glances away.

“I’m no one you need to concern yourself with.

Better off forgotten. Think of this as nothingmore than a dream.

” He starts walking, leading us away from the mysterious doors.

I glance over my shoulder in time to see them shutting with a flash of light over the carvings like a seal.

The flames extinguish as magically as they sparked to life, leaving nothing but darkness.

When I blink, I can just see the blue outline of where they once were.

“What was that place?” I muse softly, mostly to myself. The night has come alive once more. Overwhelming. Threatening. I feel an irrational sensation that if I were to speak too loudly, I’d draw the attention of some dangerous, slumbering monstrosity.

“Nowhere you should ever return.” He seems steadier than me, as if he’s used to the unwelcoming oppression of this place.

“That only makes me want to go even more.” My boast is a bit hollow, even to my ears.

He pauses, sighs, and continues walking.

We soon travel up a winding stairwell and emerge into a hallway lit by moonlight.

I blink, eyes adjusting; even the stars seem bright after being…

wherever that was. The darkness behind us seems as normal as anything else, giving credence to his words, Nothing more than a dream.

“Where are you taking me?” I ask as we continue walking down acorridor I’m not familiar with—which still describes most of the academy.

“My room.” That should raise my hackles a lot more than it does.

“Do you make it a habit of taking strangers back to your room?”

“Hardly.”

“Then I should consider myself lucky?”

A brief and bitter chuckle before he repeats, “Hardly.”

My better sense tells me to feel worried at that. But my gut objects. This man isn’t a danger, it says. I put faith in my instincts. They’re usually right…if I ignore the day I was caught.

As we walk, I glance at him from the corner of my eye.

It’s still hard to make out the finer details of his appearance, but the brief moments of lamplight give me the broad strokes.

Dark hair, fair skin, and shoulders wider than most. He looks like a laborer, not one of the prim-and-proper regular occupants of the academy.

It isn’t until he opens a door, warm light streaming out from the room, that I’m able to see him clearly.

Black hair an utter mess, shorter on the sides and longer on top, falling just above heavy brows and sunken eyes of a green so pale they’re nearly silver.

The color is emphasized by the dark circles beneath them that almost mirror mine.

The man has seen his share of horrors, I’d bet my life on it.

“I know you.” This time, it’s not phrased as a question. But from where…

“I assure you, you don’t.”

All at once, it clicks. “You knew Arina.”

He halts. Wide eyes return to me as if he’s seeing me in the echoes of Arina’s descriptions like I’m seeing him in hers.

She’d spoken of a friend on the inside—a man she was confident she could trust despite my understandable skepticism.

The warmth in her voice, combined with the fact that my sister is usually as harsh as I am toward the ruling class and all those who abide them, led me to ultimately believe that she could trust him.

“Silas,” I say confidently. His expression is all the affirmation I need that I’ve found the right person.

“Clara.” Silas dips his chin.

“You knew it was me,” I realize. “That’s why you followed me—why you saved me.”

“You’re just like Arina, venturing deeper than you should.” He shakes his head. I don’t miss the fondness underneath the exasperation in his tone. “You even look like her, too. You have the same hair.” He notices the one link others could not.

I shift, grabbing his arm, and I’m still so unsteady I nearly pull us both off-balance. My heart races. My fingers press wells into his thick biceps as I jerk him toward me. Our noses nearly touch.

“You’re the first person I’ve found in this entire place who will acknowledge her existence.” Relief wars with panic. “What happened to her?”

A frown furrows his brow.

“Tell me,” I demand as the silence drags on. My voice thins as I struggle to not scream. “I know she ran.” At least, I’m pretty sure… But Silas confirms it.

“Yes, the official story is she ‘ran away’ from the academy, was apprehended, branded, and sent to a mill.”

“ Official story?” I cling to the hope that word choice gives after the mention of a mill being her fate.

“All I know for sure is she went missing. Everything else is what they announced to the academy last year before the Three of Swords Trials.” His mouth presses into a hard line.

I’m going to be sick. I sway, my grip going slack.

He doesn’t know. But Arina wouldn’t have told a stranger, even one she trusted, of all her plans.

Silas isn’t one of our crew. Arina would’ve kept him at least a little ignorant.

She still could’ve escaped, and Kaelis absolutely would’ve covered up a student slipping from his grasp.

“Come and sit.” Silas leads me farther into what can only be described as a tiny one-room apartment.

The room has polished wood furniture crafted in a similar style to what’s in my dormitory.

However, the carvings are different. Rather than ivy, feathers line the edges of wingbacks and low tables.

Plush carpets are works of art across the floor, their vibrant colors outlining a map of Oricalis Kingdom.

Pieces of art are pinned to the walls, all handmade by Silas, I suspect, given their similarities in medium, format, and style.

It’s like walking into a person’s diary.

Every worn track in the carpet and scuff on the furniture can be read as a clue to who he is.

Those paths in the rug are in straight lines from what must be endless pacing.

The finish on the handles of the chairs is worn down, gripped a little too tightly for a little too long.

The bindings of the books on a lone bookshelf look like they’d fall apart with one more read. So well loved that they’ve come undone.

I can’t stop myself from asking, “Do you live here?”

“Yes.” There’s more wrapped up in that word than I can comprehend.