“Me too.” Winny sounds more reluctant, but her agreement seems sincere.
“You do? Both of you?” Ruvan is surprised.
“Floriane should keep learning about us. And beyond the blood lore, there’s nothing more important in our history than the long night,” Callos says.
“Shall we go ahead again?” Winny asks.
“I think I’d like to take Floriane alone.”
“It’s getting late, my lord.” She looks to the setting sun.
“We’ll only be a short while, back long before true nightfall.” Ruvan’s tone makes it clear he doesn’t want to be questioned again.
Callos seems to pick up on it. He rests a hand on Winny’s shoulder. “Our lord can take care of himself, however I could certainly use an escort back.”
“All right,” Winny relents. “Ventos keeps the academy well patrolled anyway. But if you’re not back within the hour, we’re all coming to look for you.”
“I would expect nothing less from my loyal vassals.” Ruvan smiles and holds his hand out to me. “Shall we?”
I take it, and we are whisked away into the darkness.
When the world rematerializes, we stand before what I know without doubt is the academy. Even if Ruvan hadn’t pointed it out to me in the miniature of the city, I would know its architecture anywhere. From the pointed archway over the entry, to the four bell towers, it has been embossed onto the landscape of my dreams, tied to this impossible circumstance I’ve been woven into.
“This way.” Ruvan’s movements have a solemn reverence as we head inside. I try and follow his lead, not quite sure what to expect as we ascend the stairs. He halts without warning. “This place… You won’t pass a word on it to those of Hunter’s Hamlet?”
“I swear it.”
“No matter what happens?” Ruvan’s golden eyes are piercing. Intense. Probing.
“No matter what happens,” I echo with a nod. “Callos promised to destroy the information I gave him about Hunter’s Hamlet if we fail in breaking the curse. I promise the same with whatever you’re about to show me.”
The intensity melts from his face and he reaches for my hand, giving it a squeeze. The motion is familiar and reassuring. It’s friendly, but also somehow more intimate.
We trust each other, deeply and truly. When did that happen?
He leads me under the main archway.
The immediate entry of the academy is a small room. There’s a stone desk, with a symbol emblazoned on the wall behind that I’ve never seen before. I can tell it’s another blood mark, but I have no idea whose it is. We continue through the halls of the academy, heading straight back toward where the mountains are, and then descending.
At first, the hallway is well formed, but after two more rooms, and through another door, it becomes rough and misshapen. This is not a well-planned passage; its construction reeks of haste. Desperation. Inexplicable worry worms its way up my throat. I swallow hard and try to banish the sensation to mild success.
We come to a stop before an iron door. I know something is wrong from how Ruvan comes to an abrupt halt, an arm outstretched to hold me back. Protect me. He inhales deeply and his demeanor changes. His muscles are tense. The air around him seems to vibrate with power.
He’s readying himself for battle.
I grab my sickle and slowly creep alongside him. Ruvan swings the door open and I’m ready to pounce. Motion almost has me swinging but I stop at the last second.
A snarled question cuts through the silence. “What’re you doing here?”
