Page 5

I traced a rune in the air and instantly felt the wind rush and swirl around me, making me nearly sick with relief. I’d never dared even try a Spiriting spell before because I hadn’t figured out a way to make it untraceable, but I was desperate.

As I started to fade away, though, I realized my arms were empty.

“Opie!”

“She’s already signed her letter, Harlow.”

Fuck. Me.

Unless the school formally withdrew her admissions offer, she was bound by her acceptance. Opie had to go to Neverthorn.

But she doesn’t have to stay , I reminded myself, looking for some silver lining here.

I pulled back the Spiriting rune and once again held tight to the kid in my arms as I turned to Typhon in defeat.

“Of course. I ... just wanted to pop us home to pack some clothes before we left.”

Despite the despair and panic threatening to drag me under, I kept my tone light. We locked eyes and I willed him wordlessly to play along.

His gaze didn’t soften, but he didn’t call me out either.

“She’s packed and her suitcases are in the car. One of my men will transport her to Neverthorn now while you and I get your things. We’ll meet them there later.”

So Neverthorn it was.

“Perfect,” I snapped, gritting my teeth so hard, it was a wonder I didn’t chip a molar.

Opie gave me one last squeeze and beelined for the car.

“See you soon, Lo-lo. It’s gonna be sooo awesome.”

“Yeah. So awesome,” I parroted. “See you there.”

The car door closed behind her and Typhon stepped toward me, close enough that the smell of leather off his coat swirled up my nose again.

For the first time, I realized how different he looked.

At nineteen, he’d been good-looking in a dark, brooding way that had all the girls swooning.

At thirty-two years old, life had clearly given him lemons and he’d taken a hard pass on the whole lemonade thing.

In fact, I was pretty sure his insides were even more scarred than his outsides.

I hated him then for how he’d treated me.

And I hated him now for what he was forcing me to do.

“It was a necessary evil,” he said, as if reading my thoughts once more.

“Save it,” I shot back, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing just how shattered I was. “Let’s just get this shitshow on the road.”

He turned wordlessly and started walking. I trailed behind him, watching the car with Opie in it as it melted away into the night.

“Try to keep up,” he muttered over one broad shoulder.

“Can you at least tell me what’s going on now? Seriously, Typhon ... I haven’t seen you in over a decade. Are you even a doyen for real, or just some half-assed Runecoat wannabe doing Tarquinius’s bidding?” Honestly, I just couldn’t imagine him being a teacher. He was such a dick.

He finally stopped and turned to face me, closing the space between us with a single step as he glowered down at me.

“I am a doyen at the school. And as for what’s going on now, we are heading directly to Neverthorn.

No need to actually go and pack your things.

You can just grab what you need at the Nevershoppes when we pick up your uniform and books. ”

My eyes popped wide. Either I’d misheard him, or I’d entered the ninth circle of hell.

“Say what again, now?”

He let out a long-suffering sigh. “What is it that you aren’t understanding, Harlow?”

“You think I’m re-enrolling at Neverthorn? I thought you just needed me there for like ... a day or two!” I let out a crack of laughter as I shook my head furiously. “Nope. No way. I said I would come to the school with you for Opie’s sake. I never said anything about attending.”

Besides, Neverthorn Academy wouldn’t allow someone my age back in ... would they? Moreover, why the hell would they want me to attend?

“Your class attendance is part of the deal. Take it or leave it,” he said, producing an envelope from his coat pocket and holding it out. “Here is your admissions letter. Sign it.”

“I need to know why,” I growled, staring at the oh-so-familiar missive like it was coated in acid. “And I need to know now.”

Typhon’s mouth went flat and his eyes hardened. There was a dangerous edge to him that hadn’t been there before, when I’d been at Neverthorn the first time. How far could I push him?

“Sign the papers.”

I crumpled them in my fist and held his eyes despite wanting to look away. “Tell me.”

He tapped his fingers against the paper and just slowly shook his head. “Because right now, you’re our only hope in saving the world.”

I was sure that I was hearing this wrong. That my ears were on vacation and had not just ... that could not be right. He put his hand over mine and literally helped me sign the papers as I stood there, stunned.

Shock was too small a word. I’d thought I was in trouble for the spells I’d been using. That had been my best guess up to this point. But this? This couldn’t be right.

“I’m sorry. What?” The single word question came out like a bleat. “What? What? No, that can’t be ...”

Typhon let go of my hand, my signature clear as day. “Heronius is ... out of commission. He can no longer defend us against Nocta.”

Heronius Maximus – yes, his parents actually gave him that name – had been tasked with keeping Neverthorn and its European counterpart, Heathermoor, safe from Nocta.

Nocta’s end goal, as I’d understood it, was to break through the weave that separated the Dwimmer world and the Everdark – a place where dark magic thrived – allowing the Dwellers who lived there to come to our side and take over the realm.

For decades now, Heronius Maximus, along with Sage Tarquinius, and the Thaumaturgy Senate – the gatekeepers of magic – had managed to keep Nocta from completely destroying the weave. But without Heronius leading the charge ...

“W-what do you mean out of commission?”

“I mean he can no longer do the job. And, according to Tarquinius, our fate may very well lie in your hands. Harlow ... we believe you might be the key to stopping Nocta.”

My palms went slick with sweat and blood rushed to my ears. The evilest being in all of the Dwimmer world. Disrupter of spells. Destroyer of lives. General of his own damn army.

And it was on me to stop him?