Rory's hand throbbed, the blistering pain from the Starheart fragment pulsing like a second heartbeat. The vault's air was thick, heavy with the smell of dust and old magic, and the crystal's red glow cast eerie shadows on the stone walls. Romeus's grip on her arm was tight, his eyes wide as he whispered, "What the hell was that?"
Footsteps pounded closer, the guard's shout, "Intruders!" echoing through the manor's depths. Rory's stomach dropped, her vision blurry from the mana overload. The System pinged, its blue panel harsh in her sight: Warning: Mana Overload Persists. Physical Stability Compromised. Escape Vault Immediately. Time Remaining: 48 hours.
"Move," Romeus hissed, pulling her toward the vault's door. Her legs felt like jelly, but she forced them to work; the smoldering glove on her burned hand stuck to her skin. The crystal sat on its pedestal, still pulsing, but she couldn't leave it for the guards to find. Not if it was tied to the Thornbound.
She lunged for it, ignoring the pain, and grabbed the fragment with her unburned hand. It was cold now, like ice, but it didn't bite again. She stuffed it into her dress's pocket, the weight heavy against her hip. Romeus yanked her back just as the vault door creaked open, a guard's torchlight spilling inside.
"Back way," he whispered, pointing to a narrow gap behind a shelf of dusty tomes. They squeezed through, the stone scraping Rory's arms, her breath hitching as the guard's boots clomped closer. The gap led to a tunnel, damp and dark, smelling of mold and earth. They moved fast, the tunnel's rough-hewn walls seeming to breathe and press in on her. The cool, damp air did nothing to cut the feverish heat in her burned hand. Each footfall sent a fresh jolt of pain up her arm, and the headache throbbed behind her eyes, a nail being hammered deeper into her skull with every step.
"Where's this go?" Rory whispered, her voice shaky from the pain.
"Servants' passages," he said, his voice low. "Old escape route. Keep quiet."
They emerged behind a tapestry in a quiet hallway. Rory's knees buckled, and Romeus caught her, his hands steady on her waist. His touch sent a spark through her, despite the pain, and she met his gray eyes, closer than they should be. "You good?" he asked, his voice rough but soft.
"Not really," she said, forcing a grin. "Burned hand, no mana, guards chasing us. Just another Tuesday."
He snorted, but his hands lingered a second longer before letting go. "Stay sharp. We're not safe yet."
They crept through the manor, sticking to shadows, the festival's distant music a faint hum. Rory's burned hand ached, the blistering skin raw under her glove, but she kept moving. The Starheart fragment in her pocket felt heavier with every step, like it was pulling her down.
They ducked into a storage room, stacked with crates and old furniture, to catch their breath. Rory slumped against a crate, peeling off her ruined glove. The skin beneath was red and blistered, the pain sharp enough to make her hiss. Romeus knelt beside her, his face tight. "That crystal did this?" he asked, his fingers hovering over her hand, not touching.
"Yeah," she said, wincing. "It didn't like me. Said I'm 'not worthy' or some crap."
His eyes darkened. "Thornbound magic. It's dangerous, Juliette. We need to hide it."
She nodded, her mind racing. "Lyssa's our next lead. She's Thornbound, and she's tied to Calen. If we find her, we get answers."
Romeus stood, his jaw tight. "She's a servant. She'll be at the festival cleanup. We go back, blend in, and watch her."
Rory's heart sank. Back to the festival? With guards looking for them? But he was right. Lyssa was the key. "Fine," she said, standing despite the dizziness. "Let's move."
The festival grounds were quieter now, the lanterns dimming, the crowd thinning as the night grew late. Rory and Romeus slipped in, her Illusion Magic flickering to make them look like servants again. Her headache spiked, a dull roar in her skull, but the disguise held, barely. The System pinged: Warning: Mana Overuse. Risk of Collapse. Rest Now.
"Shut up," she muttered, weaving through the cleanup crews. Servants were hauling trays and sweeping petals, their faces tired. Lyssa was near a fountain, stacking goblets, her silver ring glinting. Rory's pulse quickened. There it was.
She nudged Romeus, nodding toward Lyssa. "That's her. Let's get closer."
They moved casually, pretending to pick up cups. Lyssa's hands shook as she worked, her eyes darting like she expected trouble. Rory caught a glimpse of a note tucked into her apron, the edge marked with a thorned circle. Her stomach twisted. Another Thornbound sign.
Before Rory could signal Romeus, Lyssa glanced up, her eyes locking on them. She froze, then bolted, dropping a goblet that shattered on the stone. "Go!" Romeus said, sprinting after her. Rory followed, her burned hand screaming with every step, the Starheart fragment bouncing in her pocket.
Lyssa darted through the gardens, her skirt catching on bushes. Romeus was faster, tackling her to the grass. She struggled, her ring flashing as she clawed at him. "Let me go!" she hissed, her voice desperate.
Rory caught up, panting, her vision swimming. "Talk," she said, kneeling beside her. "You're Thornbound. What's Calen planning? Why the Starheart?"
Lyssa's eyes widened, but she clamped her mouth shut. Romeus tightened his grip, not hard, just enough to make her flinch. "Answer her," he said, his voice low. "Or I drag you to Lord Sylvana."
Lyssa's shoulders slumped, her voice barely a whisper. "Calen wants the Starheart to control Aetherion. The fragment in the vault is one piece. There's more. He'll kill me if I say anything."
Rory's heart raced. Control Aetherion? This was bigger than an assassination. "Where's he now?" she demanded.
Lyssa's eyes flicked to the manor's east wing. "Meeting someone. Secret room, behind the library. Please, don't tell him I said anything."
Romeus let her go, and she scrambled away, disappearing into the shadows. Rory stood, her burned hand throbbing, the fragment heavy in her pocket. "Secret meeting?" she said, glancing at Romeus. "We're crashing it."
He raised an eyebrow, his scar catching the lantern light. "You're half-dead, and you want to walk into a trap?"
She grinned, despite the pain. "When don't I? Come on, bodyguard."
He shook his head, but followed, his hand brushing hers as they moved. The touch sent a jolt through her, the memory of their kiss flaring in her mind. She pushed it down, focusing on the east wing.
The library was dark, its shelves towering like silent guards. Rory and Romeus crept inside, the air thick with the smell of old paper and wax. A hidden door behind a bookshelf led to a narrow passage, lit by a single torch. Voices echoed from a room at the end, low and urgent.
Rory's headache was a constant pulse now, her legs shaky, but she pressed forward, Romeus close behind. They crouched by the door, peering through a crack. Calen stood inside, his gold robes swapped for black, his silver ring glinting as he spoke to a hooded figure. "The fragment's gone," he said, his voice cold. "Someone took it from the vault."
The hooded figure's voice was rough, like gravel. "Then find it. The Starheart's power is ours to wield. Sylvana's death was just the start."
The fragment in Rory's pocket gave a sudden, violent thrum, like a second heart kicking into a gallop. A wave of heat, both alien and familiar, washed through her, so intense she almost gasped. It was answering the call from Calen's ring. Romeus's hand tightened on her arm, his eyes warning her to stay quiet.
Calen turned, his gaze sweeping the room, and Rory ducked lower, her heart pounding. "I'll find it," he said. "And when I do, I'll control the fragment's power. Aetherion will kneel."
The hooded figure laughed, a chilling sound. "Good. But if the girl knows too much, kill her."
Rory's blood ran cold. They meant her. She glanced at Romeus, his face hard, his sword half-drawn. The System pinged: Quest Updated: Protect Starheart Fragment. New Threat: Calen Controls Fragment's Power. Time Remaining: 48 hours.
The door creaked open, and Calen stepped out, his eyes locking on them. His smile was sharp, like a blade. "Well, well," he said, his ring glowing faintly red, matching the fragment in her pocket. "You have something that belongs to me."