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The guard lingered, his gaze sweeping back and forth. Just when I thought my trembling muscles would give out, he shook his head and continued his patrol, muttering something about “damned birds” nesting in the stonework.

The breath I’d been holding escaped in a silent stream. The shadows receded slightly, still clinging to me but no longer as dense. Had they responded to my need without conscious direction? The thought was both comforting and unsettling—how much of my power operated beyond my understanding?

There was no time to contemplate this now. Night was approaching quickly, and with it would come guard changes and possibly more thorough security checks. I needed to move.

I slid forward over the gargoyle’s head, careful not to dislodge any more stone fragments. My fingers stretched toward the maintenance ladder, the distance seeming to grow with every passing second. Just a few more inches...

My fingertips brushed against cold metal, the rust rough against my skin.

I leaned farther, the muscles in my shoulder burning with the strain, until finally my hand closed around the ladder’s rung.

With a silent prayer, I transferred my weight from the gargoyle to the ladder, the ancient metal creaking softly as it accepted my burden.

The descent was agonizingly slow since the ladder’s bolts had weathered decades of exposure to the elements. Twice, a rung shifted under my foot, sending my panic shooting through my limbs as I clung to the ladder for dear life.

As I climbed down, the fortress revealed itself to me in layers—guard posts, storage rooms, what looked like barracks.

Through one window, I glimpsed men in Maximo’s signature black suits cleaning weapons.

Through another, servants prepared food in a kitchen.

This place was more than a hideout; it was a base of operations.

Two floors down, I paused beside a window larger than the others, its glass panes reflecting the last purple streaks of dusk. Heavy curtains were drawn inside, but a sliver of light escaped where they didn’t quite meet. This had to be an important room—perhaps Maximo’s office or a meeting chamber.

I pressed myself against the wall beside the window, straining to hear any voices from within. The wind carried fragments of conversation:

“...shipment arrives tomorrow...”

“...transformation isn’t stable yet...”

“...need the girl’s blood to complete the ritual...”

My blood ran cold. Were they talking about me? Or someone else? I needed to hear more, to understand the context of these ominous fragments.

“The Elder Dimension remains sealed,” a voice I recognized as Marsha’s said, her tone sharp with frustration. “The preliminary tests failed. We need more power.”

“The ancient texts are specific,” Maximo responded. “The blood of a shadow-wielder is the key to opening the portal. Once we access the Elder Dimension, their powers will be ours to command.”

“And the girl?” A third voice asked—male, but unfamiliar to me.

“She doesn’t even know what she is,” Marsha laughed, the sound sharp as winter frost cracking underfoot. “Her connection to the shadows is instinctive, untrained. Perfect for our purposes.”

“And once the portal is open?” the third voice pressed.

“Then the true gods return,” Maximo said with reverence that chilled me to the bone. “And this world bends to our will.”

Elder Dimension? Portal? True gods? The words meant nothing to me, yet everything about them felt wrong, dangerous. Whatever they were planning, I was meant to be sacrificed to achieve it.

Carefully, I edged closer to the gap in the curtains. The shadows around me deepened as true night began to claim the sky. I coaxed them to wrap around me like a cloak, obscuring my outline as I peered through the narrow opening.

What I saw inside made my heart stop.

Maximo stood with his back to me, his expensive suit jacket removed, shirt stretching across broad shoulders.

For a moment, as he moved between a pair of ornate candelabras, something strange happened—his shadow on the wall wasn’t human-shaped.

It stretched and distorted, with what looked like jagged extensions from his shoulder blades, writhing and folding like phantom limbs.

But when he stepped away from the direct light, his shadow appeared normal again.

Had I imagined it? The conversation about the Elder Dimension had me seeing things that weren’t there—or was this connected to what Zoe claimed she saw?

Marsha circled a large stone table in the center of the room, her fingers trailing over ancient symbols carved into its surface. Maps and scrolls were scattered across it, along with what looked disturbingly like ceremonial daggers.

“The alignment comes in three days,” she said, tapping a chart that appeared to show celestial bodies. “We’ll need to prepare the girl by then.”

“And the others?” the third man asked, his face still outside my limited view.

“The transformations serve their purpose,” Maximo replied. “Even the failures.”

My mind raced. Transformations? Failures? Was Henry one of these experiments? And what were they planning to do to me in three days?

I leaned closer, desperate to see more, to understand?—

The ladder beneath me groaned, a bolt giving way with a screech of protesting metal. I scrambled to maintain my grip, but my movement caused the curtain to flutter.

Inside the room, conversation stopped abruptly.

“We have a visitor.” Marsha’s soft voice made my heart stutter and cease.

I panicked and cursed softly under my breath as I abandoned stealth for speed, climbing upward as fast as my arms would carry me. The shadows responded to my panic, swirling around me, but in my fear, I couldn’t control them at all.

The window below me slammed open. I glanced down to see Marsha leaning out, her face illuminated by the glow from the room. Her eyes locked with mine, a predatory smile spreading across her face.

“Well, well,” she called. “Our little shadow-dancer decided to join us early.” She raised her hand, and I felt my control of the shadows falter, slipping away like water through fingers.

“Did you hear something interesting, dear?” she asked, her other hand making a twisting motion. The metal ladder beneath me shuddered, then began to tear away from the wall.

I scrambled upward, but it was too late.

With a final metallic groan, the ladder separated from the stone.

For one heart racing split-second, I hung suspended in air, the courtyard spinning far below me—then I was falling, the wind rushing past my ears, shadows frantically swirling around me as I plummeted toward the ground.