Page 28 of Darkness and Deceit (Obsidian Academy #2)

Twenty-Five

LILITH

I don’t ask where we’re going. Mostly because I don’t think Augustus knows either.

He moves like he’s listening to something I can’t hear. Like each step is part of a conversation he’s not letting me in on. But I follow anyway. Because the air shifted back there—twisted in a way that made my skin crawl—and whatever he felt, I felt it too.

The woods are quieter than they should be.

No birds. No wind. No life.

Just the sound of our boots over scorched earth, and the rasp of our breathing.

The trees around us are brittle skeletons, blackened and bowed. The further we walk, the more they seem to lean inward, as if the forest itself is trying to draw us in closer and closer to whatever waits ahead.

My magic buzzes beneath my skin the way it used to when Magnus was near. But this isn’t him.

This is something else.

I glance at Augustus. His light hums around him, soft gold against the smoke-stained gray. He hasn’t looked at me since we left the clearing. I think we’re both trying to ignore what the tether scryer revealed. But it lingers all the same.

The image is burned behind my eyes?—

Four threads.

One pointing to Kai, warped with blue flame.

One tugging toward the tower.

One stretching toward the dorms.

And one that reached for him.

Augustus.

Even now, I’m not sure which unsettles me more—the thread itself, or the fact that he didn’t deny my suspicions.

I stumble over a root, and that’s enough to remind me I should probably pay more attention to the path ahead and less to the one unraveling behind me.

We pass through the worst of the damage.

Here, the trees aren’t just dead. They’re hollowed and caved in. as if something chewed through the inside and left the shells behind. And yet… In a crack between two collapsed trunks, I see something green.

A single sprout curls upward toward the dim light. I crouch, brushing ash away from the base of its stem. “It’s already starting to heal,” I murmur.

Augustus’ voice is quiet behind me. “Not everything will.”

I straighten slowly. “Maybe not. But some things don’t need to heal to come back. Some things just… regrow.”

He doesn’t reply, but I know he heard me.

And I know he’s thinking about Kai just like I am.

My thoughts drift to the other two threads despite myself. The ones not tied to Augustus or Kai.

Who else is connected to me?

Simon and Vaughn?

Could it really be?

What does that mean for them… for us?

I want to press Augustus again, but I don’t. Because he won’t lie, but he won’t give me the truth either.

The path dips ahead and it’s less a natural slope, and more like something caved in. A shallow crater, ringed with broken roots and scorched stone. My stomach turns the moment we see it.

This is where the damage hit hardest. The wrongness here is heavier. Ancient. Like it’s taken root beneath our feet and is listening.

For a split second, everything inside me pulls taut. My magic presses outward like it’s being scored. Not drained, not pulled. Just… scratched raw. As if something unseen is dragging claws across it. Testing.

Augustus tenses at the same time.

Magic stirs instinctively at my fingertips, ready if I need it. But Augustus doesn’t move to defend himself. He just stands there—silent, composed, and completely unarmed.

And that’s when it hits me.

He’s not reacting because it’s not his job to fight.

It’s mine.

Keepers guide. Protectors defend. That’s how it works—or how it’s supposed to, anyway. I’ve heard it a dozen times in theory, but this is the first time it’s felt real. And I’m wildly, terrifyingly unprepared.

Oh, crap.

I swallow, forcing my voice to steady. “Just... theoretically,” I ask, “does anyone know you’re in here?”

He takes another step forward. “No. I came on my own.”

Of course. I stare at him, the weight of that answer sinking like a stone in my stomach. That’s just great. I might be the only line between him and whatever is waiting out there in the dark.

Something brushes across the back of my neck like a breeze… except there’s no wind. I whir around, but there’s nothing there. “Did you feel that?” I whisper.

Augustus doesn’t answer out loud, but very slowly, he nods.

A shiver skates down my spine. Not the kind that comes from cold, but the kind that warns you something is watching. And waiting.

I glance at Augustus. The glow around him seems dimmer now. Or maybe the shadows are bolder—creeping closer than before. Or hell, maybe I’m imagining things. Either way, the unease is starting to mess with me.

Finally, Augustus speaks. “Something else happened here. Before the fire.”

He pauses, surveying the area once more, and continues on.

Something deep in my gut screams that this is a bad idea. We’re heading straight toward something deadly.

And it’s waiting for us.