That night, I slept in peace—and let Shawn have his peace too. Or maybe he didn't sleep at all, afraid I might have another attack. I'm not sure. All I know is that for the first time in a while, I felt calm.
The next day, Shawn and I were sitting by the pool. I was practicing with water, shaping it between my fingers, while we talked. That's when Robin appeared, a sharp, almost wicked smile curling on her lips. We couldn't resist asking what she was up to. She didn't answer—just motioned for us to follow.
We trailed her as she slipped past guards and students, heading for the restricted section of the library.
A heavy lock hung on the gate, one I'd seen there for as long as I could remember. "Reserare," she whispered. The lock clicked open. She cradled it in her palm, and the chains slithered away from the bars like living snakes.
Inside was a small room lined with shelves. Robin moved straight to one and vanished behind it. We followed, finding her standing before a shelf built into the wall. She pulled out a series of books in a specific order, stacking them in her arms, then carried them to a strange lamp—shaped like a shallow plate fixed to a handle jutting from the wall.
The plate was empty. As soon as she placed the books on it, the handle slid down. The shelf where she had taken the books began to shift—its lower section folding upward, the upper right swinging right, the upper left swinging left—until the entire thing transformed into a doorway. Without hesitation, we stepped through.
The path ahead was dark, curving toward a faint glow. We followed it into a perfectly round room—circular shelves lining the walls, a round mat in the center, and a desk straight ahead with a quill and scattered papers.
"This is an old secret chamber. Ryan and I used to sneak here behind Dad's back when we were kids." Robin's pause made it clear something was off between them.
"You didn't know we were related, did you?" she said, smiling faintly. "We're both adopted. He came from an orphanage. Dad found me wandering in the woods." She moved toward one of the stone shelves, tall and fixed from floor to ceiling, with strange, round tracks circling them.
"Were you lost in the forest?" I asked.
She shook her head. "I ran away. My parents were witches." Her eyes held a trace of sadness.
"I'm sorry," I said, without knowing exactly why.
"I'm not." She shrugged, smiling again.
"Why bring us here?" I asked.
"You'll know soon. We're waiting for someone." She checked her watch, then glanced at the entrance and smiled.
"He's here," she said.
When we turned, it was Liam. I ran to him and wrapped my arms around him, but he didn't hug back. His hands stayed hidden behind him—unnatural for him.
"What happened to you?" I asked.
We sat on the steps, and he began to explain.
"That night, when we realized it was Obscure, I was wrecked. Furious that I couldn't help Cris. I lost control. I took off my gloves and sealed the entire place so no one could enter while I was gone. Then I left—until I could control my powers. But when I unleashed them, I damaged my gloves. I'm afraid to touch any of you." His eyes moved between us.
"I traveled from place to place, looking for Kace. He knows more about ancient creatures than anyone. I never found him. Just when I was ready to give up, she called me—told me something that sparked hope in all this darkness." He smiled at Robin.
"I knew it!" I jumped to my feet.
"Zinnia. Shawn. Liam. Sit down and listen carefully." Robin stood, motioning me back.
"The other day, when you told me about the Obscure, two things hit me. First, if Obscure is a person, she might be massive by now, given how many she's consumed. Second—you've searched for every supernatural being and found nothing, right?" She met my gaze.
I nodded.
"And if something goes into a person's mouth or stomach, it doesn't come back—unless they vomit. So what if Obscure isn't a person at all, but a place?" Robin said.
Liam cut in. "I don't think so. Samantha said she's her daughter."
"I know. I was confused too. So I dug into the list of scientists named Samantha. There were many, but one—Samantha Willow—matched your description. Her daughter had a strange illness. Samantha was searching for a cure… then she vanished. Later, she reappeared, claiming her daughter was healed. But not long after, the girl disappeared again.
Here's my theory: she experimented on her daughter using some inhuman entity, accidentally opening a portal to a dark realm. She might believe her daughter became Obscure… but what if Obscure didn't harm her because she was the one who opened it?
I'm certain—two hundred percent—that Obscure is a place, not a person. I searched for records of such dark realms or portals and found nothing… except this."
She pulled a book from the desk, flipping it open. At the top of the page, in faded ink: *Gate to The Dark Valley*. The rest was torn away, leaving only jagged edges and the lower half of a sketch—a swirling, smoky portal frozen in ink.
"Which means I'm right. But I had no idea how to get in… and no one who's been consumed ever came back. So if we go, I don't know if we'll return. Then, just as I was falling asleep, I thought—what if we use an anchor? Something we leave here, with its other part carried through Obscure. But it has to be strong—strong as a supernatural being." Robin's gaze swept over us.
We stared at her, eyes wide. "All we need is an anchor to get back," she said, lowering herself in front of us. "I need ideas. Please."
Our hearts pounded at the thought of seeing Cris again. We settled on the mat, flipping through books for answers. Liam sat apart, silent, his expression deep in thought. Finally, he spoke. "I know this sounds insane, but it might be the only way."
Robin stepped out from behind a shelf holding two gloves—different from Liam's old ones but still fingerless. She handed them to him, and he slid them on.
"We go to the place where Samantha kept me," Liam said. "We find the Obscure… and let it consume us."
"Are you sure?" I asked. He nodded, eyes fixed on the ground.
"This could work. But… what if it attacks the school while we're gone?" Robin asked.
"It won't. I think it's been taking students selectively for a reason. It's upgraded, and now it's targeting you and me," Liam said, meeting her gaze.
"Me? Why me?"
"It took the girl I loved to lure me in. Before that, it pretended to be you and fought another girl—so you'd have no choice but to find her and clear your name. Why does it want you… I don't know."
"Oh. That explains her doppelganger," I murmured.
"How are you sure it'll still be there?" I asked.
"I'm not. But portals like this usually can be reopened in the same place they first appeared." Liam answered.
It made sense, but still—"So, bringing it the two people it wants? With whatever upgrade you're talking about? And it's a moving portal?" My gaze narrowed.
"We can't just sit back, Zinnia. Who knows who it'll take next?" Robin said firmly. "We're going. The question is… what do we use for an anchor?"
We were still thinking when Shawn winced, clutching his neck.
We all turned to him. "You alright?" Liam asked.
"I'm fine."
That's when we noticed he had dark circles, and by dark, I mean really dark, we were all so consumed by ourselves that we couldn't even see he was suffering.
Liam stared, "My neck hurts... a lot!" Shawn pursed his mouth.
"Let me see." Liam pulled back his shirt and looked at us, his expression dark.
Liam turned him around, gripping his shoulders. The wound was larger now, two inches across, and something seemed lodged inside.
"Remember when that woman attacked me?" Shawn said with a nervous smile.
"A part of me will always live inside you—she said that, didn't she?" Liam's voice sharpened. "Why didn't you tell us?"
"You were all dealing with enough… and you weren't here," Shawn replied, tugging his shirt back over his shoulders.
"Tell me more about her," Robin said, climbing the ladder near the left shelf. She scanned the spines, then folded her fingers one by one. A book slid free on its own. She opened her palm, and it fanned open midair. Climbing down, she brought it to the desk as they described the attacker in detail.
With a snap of her fingers, the pages flipped rapidly, slowing to a stop. "Fey," she said. A glowing sketch of a goddess-like woman shimmered above the page. Beneath it was a crude drawing of a root. Skipping the fluff, she read aloud:
"If a Fey separates one of its roots before death, it can be resurrected by another Fey through a ritual."
"Wait—there are others?" Shawn cut in.
Her eyes widened as she read on. "If a Fey stabs someone with its root and leaves it inside, it slowly kills that person. Only a Fey can remove it." She paused. "So… it's like a poison." With a snap, the book shut.
"I've got good news and bad news," she said. "Good—every Fey is connected wth one another. Since part of her is in you, we can use you as an anchor. Bad—leaving it inside your body means you die."
"No! We can't lose another friend!" I shouted.
"Robin, can you slow it down?" Shawn asked.
"You're not serious," I said, glaring at him.
He smiled, stepping closer and gripping my shoulders. "I can't sit back, not when we know she's out there, waiting to be saved. And I'm not as wussy as you think."
Robin knew a spell to slow the poison's effect, but removing it was another matter—only a Fey could. And she had a plan for that.