Page 13 of Darkness and Deceit (Obsidian Academy #2)

“Oh. This was all a test. Wasn’t it? To see your light? And to see if I could see this ?” I ask, nodding toward the unnatural dark ahead—the place even his glow seems to hesitate touching.

“Yes,” Augustus says plainly. “And the fact that you can... doesn’t hurt.”

My hands curl into fists. They’re still testing me. Still treating me like a variable instead of a person.

“I don’t get it,” I say as we move deeper. “Why even send me if you don’t trust me? Why give me this mission?”

He doesn’t respond.

“I’m just bait,” I press. “ We both are.”

He stops sharply. “Silence,” he says. “Now is not the time.”

“I don’t need silence,” I fire back. “I can feel him. Magnus. Or at least I usually can. But right now?—”

I pause. Something brushes my mind. A whisper. A thread. A flicker of magic, faint but insistent. It pulls at something buried deep inside me, something familiar. Like the echo. I follow it without hesitation.

“Lilith,” Augustus calls softly.

I don’t stop. The trail is fading. I push harder. Deeper. His glow flickers behind me, illuminating the gnarled trees.

Finally, I reach a clearing. The ground is completely charred. There’s nothing but ash where grass should be.

“This is where it led me,” I murmur.

Augustus approaches silently. Then he lifts his hand, drawing a slow spiral in the air. The space ripples and a portal unfolds.

Chains. Endless, twisted chains stretch into the void beyond.

A scream rises from somewhere far within and my blood instantly runs cold.

“This is what I saw,” I whisper. “This is where Magnus was.”

Augustus studies the space, his face unreadable.

The portal pulses, illuminating something in his eyes.

Uncertainty, maybe. The air ripples and it smells like scorched iron and old blood.

I don’t breathe too deeply. The pressure in my chest coils tighter, like the magic itself is watching me, waiting for me to move.

“I suspect this is where your father fought Magnus,” Augustus says, voice quieter now. “But if that is true, it was never officially recorded. The records were...

“Redacted. Yes, you mentioned that part,” I mutter.

His jaw flexes. “Do not make me regret sharing my suspicions.”

I blink, throat tight. Now I can’t stop picturing it. My father standing here, facing down whatever twisted thing Magnus became. Fighting for the Balance while the world kept spinning like nothing changed.

“Wait. But you’re a Keeper,” I say, heart hammering. “You said you read the reports.”

“I did,” he replies. “They were incomplete. Deliberately. The records only state that the Balance was restored and the threat neutralized. But this—” He gestures toward the void. “This bears the signature of old magic. Powerful magic… Sacrificial.” The last word comes out as barely a puff of air.

Sacrificial. The word ripples through me, dredging up every old story my father ever told me about the Balance and what it truly costs. I stagger back, swallowing bile.

Augustus says nothing for a moment. Then, so quietly I nearly miss it, he says: “Some things are better left unspoken until we know more.”

Yeah, that’s not fucking ominous or anything at all.

A new breeze stirs, turning the ash to whorls that dance across my boots. The portal hangs open just beyond the tree line, chains glinting, an endless dark. It pulses faintly and the longer I stare, the more it feels like it’s pulling on me— inviting me in.

Maybe Magnus is still there. Maybe we’re wrong. Maybe we should stop, go back, find another way.

I step closer.

The air around me pulses then snaps tight like a lasso of pressure, yanking me backward and slamming me into a tree so fast my vision blurs.

“Ow! What the hell?” I shout, scrambling up, my side throbbing. I spin on Augustus, furious, and coughing.

“You do not understand what this is,” he snaps—and there’s something fraying beneath the words now. Fear. “This is only a residue. A prison echo. If he is gone, we are running out of time.”

Finally. A crack in his mask.

“He might still be on the island. But once he crosses fully into shadow, we may never find him again.”

My chest tightens when his words catch up to me. “So what now?”

“We return,” he says. “I will report to the elders. You have meddled enough.”

The way he looks at me—it isn’t just cold.

It’s disappointment .

And for some fucking reason it burns.

“Maybe if someone bothered to explain anything,” I bite out, “I wouldn’t have to fumble around like a blind idiot in a cursed forest, hoping I don’t screw something up again .”

“Do you think this is a joke?” he growls, stepping toward me, towering in the glow of his own magic. “You want all the answers without any of the discipline. You break rules, cross lines, and then act shocked when the consequences find you.”

Heat blooms in my chest, but it’s not all anger. There’s something almost thrilling about watching his composure crack, seeing the glint of something raw behind all that polished steel. He’s always so damn measured, so in control. But now? He’s slipping. And gods help me, I kind of like it.

“On the contrary,” I seethe. “I think this entire system is broken. You hoard knowledge and expect obedience. You treat me like a threat and then wonder why I act like one.”

“I’ve given everything to this place,” I continue without waiting for him to retort. “And all I’ve gotten back is silence and suspicion.”

“You are supposed to open yourself to knowledge,” Augustus says, like he’s quoting scripture. “Let it find you .”

“That’s what got me into this mess!” I shout. “I opened myself, and it nearly tore me apart!”

I turn and walk—fast. Anywhere away from him.

“Wrong direction, Lilith,” he calls out, maddeningly calm once more. “The camp is that way.”

I don’t answer. I don’t turn.

I just keep walking.

Because maybe I don’t know everything.

But neither do they.

And maybe… they’re the ones who’ve forgotten what matters.