Page 24 of Blood Court (Cursed Darkness #2)
Whoever’s behind this understands the value of patience and planning. They’ve been systematically preparing the academy for surveillance and control, making changes so subtle that most people wouldn’t notice them for months.
But I’m not most people. I see the bones of this place, understand how every element fits together to create the whole.
“We need to tell Dathan and Evren,” I say.
“They’re still in lectures.” Lysithea glances at the ancient clock mounted above the fireplace. “Another hour at least.”
“Then we wait. But not here.” I scan the common area again, noting which students have been glancing in our direction. Too many for coincidence. “Too many eyes.”
I help her to her feet, steadying her as another wave of pain from the Soul Scar buckles her knees. The corruption is definitely accelerating. At this rate, she’ll be in critical condition before the week is out.
We need to find the guys. We need to plan, and we need to start fighting back against whoever’s been playing chess with our lives.
But first, we need somewhere safe to talk. Somewhere, those who are watching can’t follow.
I guide Lysithea toward the service passages, the hidden arteries that run behind DarkHallow’s grand facade. Most students don’t even know they exist, but I’ve spent three years mapping every secret way and forgotten corner of this place.
“Where are we going?” she asks as I press my hand against a seemingly solid section of wall. The stone responds to my hellfire, recognising the magical signature and sliding aside to reveal a narrow passage.
“Somewhere they haven’t thought to compromise yet,” I say, leading her into the darkness beyond. “The spaces between the walls.”
The passage is cramped and dusty, lit only by the faint glow of my hellfire. But it’s ours. No surveillance, no observers cataloguing our every move.
“Tell me about the changes,” Lysithea says as we navigate the twisting corridor. “Everything you’ve noticed.”
I start with the obvious alterations, the new faces and the modified architecture. But as I talk, I realise the scope is even larger than I initially thought. It’s not just surveillance. It’s preparation for something bigger.
“They’re not just watching us,” I conclude as we reach a small chamber that houses one of the academy’s heating nexus points. The magical furnace provides enough background noise to mask our conversation from any listening devices. “They’re preparing for a siege.”
Lysithea sinks onto a maintenance crate, her face pale in the hellfire light. “What do you mean?”
“Look at the pattern. Strategic positioning of observers, modified sightlines, altered patrol routes. But also reinforced chokepoints, repositioned defensive elements, optimised escape routes for non-combatants. Someone’s been preparing DarkHallow for a battle.”
“Between us and the opposition.”
“This isn’t about capturing us quietly. This is about turning the entire academy into a battlefield where they control the terrain.”
The Soul Scar flares again, and Lysithea doubles over with a strangled cry, her forehead touching her knees. I catch her before she falls over, holding her steady as the corruption sends waves of agony through her.
“We’re running out of time,” she gasps when the pain recedes.
“I know.” I help her sit down, my jaw clenched with helpless fury. “But we’re not helpless. They think they’ve been clever, making their subtle changes and positioning their pieces. But they made one crucial mistake.”
“What’s that?”
I smile, and it’s not a pleasant expression. “They forgot that I know how to break things even better than I know how to build them.”
The heating nexus hums around us, a constant reminder of the power flowing through DarkHallow’s bones.
First, we need to survive whatever’s coming. And based on the scope of their preparations, it’s going to be spectacular.
I just hope we’re ready for it.
“Wait,” Lysithea says. “The corruption… when I used my power, it retreated. What if this isn’t the book? What if it’s the opposition? Something has tainted me, corrupted me. Something other than an old god-grimoire.”
I nod slowly. “That makes more sense in light of what you discovered earlier. Use your power right now.”
“I can’t,” she says, looking around desperately.
“I’ll absorb the soundwaves with my hellfire. You can’t hurt me, remember?”
She hesitates, her violet eyes searching mine. The trials were about this. Trust. She gives a single, sharp nod.
She closes her eyes. A low hum starts in her chest, a pure, resonant note that vibrates in the air between us. It’s controlled. Precise. A weapon being calibrated.
My hellfire flares, a silent, hungry cocoon wrapping around us. Her power hits it as a pressure against my magic. It’s like trying to hold a star in my bare hands. The heat is immense, but it doesn’t burn. It resonates.
I watch her throat. The black veins flicker, writhing under her skin like startled snakes. Then they pull back. Just a fraction, but it’s enough. The intricate pattern shrinks away from her jawline.
“Louder,” I murmur.
The note climbs, the hum becoming a clear, sharp tone that resonates in my bones. My hellfire cage shudders, the soundwaves pushing against it, a contained supernova. The air in the chamber superheats. The stone walls sweat.
The corruption recoils. The black veins shrivel, racing back down her throat, retreating from the pure power of her voice. They pull back from her neck, her collarbones, a tide of darkness receding from the light. It works. The fucking thing is a parasite, an infection, and her magic is the cure.
The song cuts off abruptly. Lysithea sags against me, her body trembling with the effort. I catch her, the heat from my containment field dissipating around us.
“It worked,” she breathes, her voice a raw whisper.
I look at the now-clear skin of her throat and hands. Fucking opposition. It’s not the book. It’s never been the book. The grimoire is the cure. The opposition is the poison. A slow acting one they’ve been feeding her since she arrived.
“They’re not just watching you,” I snarl. “They’re trying to kill you.”
“How?”
“That’s what I intend to find out.”