Cale froze. The word hit like a thunderclap. Veyrathi. She'd said it. Out loud. In front of Regan. In front of Rosanna.
He turned to look at them, expecting shock. Fear. Betrayal.
But Regan's face was steady. Rosanna's eyes were still fierce, still locked on him—not in horror, but with trust.
Confusion spun in Cale's mind, but there was no time to dwell on it.
Emilia tilted her head, amused by the tension in the air. "All this trouble," she said, "because three children decided to play hero. You've made my life exceptionally difficult."
Regan stepped forward. "Is that why you made that awful altar? Because we pissed you off?"
Emilia's smile widened. "Oh, the altar is for you, yes. Especially for our dear little Veyrathi."
Regan scowled. "You really expect us to believe all this ritualistic crap?"
"Believe what you want," Emilia said sweetly, and then raised her hand.
Black flames erupted from her fingertips, curling like smoke made solid.
Cale's heart pounded. His mind snapped back to Aleric's training. An Oculen's greatest weapon is their foresight. Not strength. Vision.
He focused.
Time slowed.
He saw it—the motion of Emilia's hand, the arc of fire, her intent.
She was aiming for Regan.
Cale moved.
"Regan!"
He shoved him out of the way just as the flames roared past where Regan had been standing.
The heat licked his skin. The blast scorched the stone wall behind them.
Cale stood between Emilia and Regan now, eyes blazing with clarity.
No more mistakes.
It was time to fight.
The room shuddered with heat and pressure as black flames licked at the stones, curling across the walls like vengeful spirits. Cale staggered backward, dragging in a breath, the world around him slowing as his vision burned silver and the air sang with danger.
"Cale!" Regan's voice cut through the chaos, but it was distant. Like a memory.
Cale's eyes snapped to Rosanna, still gagged and restrained, a guard gripping her like a sack of grain. Rage surged in his chest, but instead of letting it consume him, he harnessed it. He turned slightly and whisper-shouted to Regan, "You need to get to Rosanna—now!"
Regan followed his line of sight, gulping hard when he saw the guard and Rosanna's desperate eyes. He looked at Cale, who gave a quick nod, trusting him.
Regan veered sharply away from the center of the room, ducking low and sprinting towards a stack of crates in the basement corner. He moved with surprising grace, positioning himself for a sneak attack.
Cale snapped his attention back to Emilia.
"How brave," she mocked, voice slick with venom. "How stupid."
She flung another orb of black flame, and Cale's Oculen's mark flared white-hot in warning.
Left!
Cale twisted just in time, the flames exploding against the floor where he'd been standing. His boots skidded across the stone, smoke biting at his eyes.
Right!
He ducked, rolled, the flame slicing over his head. His heartbeat thundered in his ears as he pushed off the ground again.
She's drawing power from her left hand—guard high!
Another attack surged toward him, but this time he spun under it, feeling the heat scrape his back.
He spared a glance toward the far side—
THWACK!
Regan struck the guard in the back of the head with a thick rusted pipe he'd found near the crates. The man dropped like a sack of flour, and Rosanna stumbled free, mouth still gagged, eyes wild.
Regan yanked the gag off and broke the chain binding her wrist to the wall using the same pipe, grunting with effort.
"Come on!"
They dashed for the basement stairs.
"No! Not that way!" Cale shouted hoarsely as another blast of dark fire singed the space between him and Emilia. "The entrance is trapped!"
He had seen it—just barely—Emilia's guards waiting in ambush above, the stairwell cloaked in darkness.
Cale turned and sprinted along the side wall, dodging a gout of black flame that nearly burned his jacket clean off. The floor groaned beneath his feet as he raced past the stone altar, the heat from Emilia's last attack trailing behind him like a specter.
"Follow me!" he barked, veering toward the old servant's tunnel he'd glimpsed during his earlier vision scan—a half-hidden passage behind a shelf of wine barrels.
Emilia snarled in frustration. "You're making it very hard for me to kill you, Veyrathi."
"Yeah," Cale hissed under his breath, yanking a barrel aside and revealing a narrow, cobweb-filled stone tunnel. "Get used to disappointment."
Regan and Rosanna reached him, panting hard, and without hesitation, the three of them vanished into the darkness, the flames behind them roaring in fury.
The hunt had begun.
_______________
The tunnel was damp and cold, the stone beneath their boots slick with moisture. They moved quickly, Cale leading, but no one spoke. The adrenaline still pumped through their veins, but now there was something heavier threading between them—uncertainty, confusion.
Finally, they reached a junction—five tunnel paths fanned out before them like skeletal fingers.
Regan glanced at Cale. "Uh… which one?"
Rosanna looked over her shoulder, anxiety tightening her jaw. "We need to hurry."
Cale clenched his fists and closed his eyes. His mark burned as he activated his sight again.
"Wait—Cale!" Regan called. But it was too late.
Silver light burst behind Cale's eyelids—followed by a sudden, searing pain.
Blood trickled down his cheeks from his eyes.
"Cale!" Rosanna gasped.
Regan gripped his shoulder. "Are you okay? What's happening to your—"
Cale was hurting bad. He could feel that his friends were worried about him. He was glad that they did. But there was something else that was occupying his mind since Emilia ousted him.
"Why…" Cale panted, blinking hard through the blood. "Why aren't you two saying anything about… me being Veyrathi?"
Regan scoffed, more relieved than annoyed. "That's what you're worried about right now?"
Huh?
Rosanna wiped her face and sighed. "I knew you were weird. Hurry up and pick a path already."
She had just said that as if it was an unnecessary question. Cale was even more confused than before but Rosanna was right. They had to hurry.
Cale blinked again, vision dimming. He pressed his palm over one eye.
He focused.
Then his face paled.
"They all… connect," he whispered.
Regan frowned. "What?"
"All these tunnels… They all lead to the same place." Cale looked at them, voice tight. "A huge building. It can't be anything else. It's the palace."
Regan stared at him. "You're kidding."
Rosanna's eyes widened, then narrowed.
The three of them stood at the fork in the path, breath caught between horror and disbelief, knowing now they were closer to something far bigger than they'd ever expected.