The Seal had not changed.

Even with all of us filing in this time, more than twice the number who had stood in this place before, the chamber felt just as silent, just as still. Just as cold. I stepped inside and the mist curled at my feet, soft but sticky, like the lake itself was breathing beneath the stone.

The others were quiet as they entered behind me. Not even Ardorion had anything to say. That told me more than words ever could.

Torchlight flickered low on the walls, just enough to catch the shape of the desk on one side of the chamber. Candles wavered and loose papers still crowded the surface of the desk. Lady Isa’s desk. We all knew it. That much had not changed either.

The back wall still shimmered with frost. A smooth curtain of ice, thick with magic. Halven still reached for the ice wall, a hand against it, inside his own block of ice.

The magic in the room pressed deeper now. Last time it had made me stumble. This time I was ready for it. Layers of it wound together around the chamber, a thrum of old spells and hidden signatures. I could only read Veyn’s Wood magic, of course. But from the others, I knew there was also Fire, Water, and Moon magic.

Likely Air magic existed as well because Isa’s Water magic had been identified, and as an Ice Dragon, she had both Water and Air magic.

But now we had the chance for all eight elements to work together. With Garnexis and Orivian’s Metal magic and Elio with his Sun and Earth as a Stone Dragon, that completed the full spectrum of elemental magic.

Would it be enough?

I gauged the room, wondering what the others felt about our chances.

Neir stood across the chamber, bare-footed, bare-chested, his eyes steady. He was not hiding. But he did not move closer. His presence reminded me of a held breath. Controlled, but not calm.

Professor Veyn waited near the desk, quiet and unreadable, his head bowed as he listened to whatever Lady Isa said to him. The Grand Magister herself, standing close to Veyn, kept her expression closed but alert. She had always carried herself with authority, but now there was something else in her stance. Tension, maybe. Or anticipation.

Lo stood tall at Orivian’s side, hands already loose and ready. Aster and Garnexis moved together toward their places along the ice wall without hesitation, stopping next to Ardorion. Rielle passed near me, and I caught the way her eyes flicked toward Halven, just for a second, before she looked away, biting her lower lip. She joined Ardorion.

I worried for her. She was already doubting her abilities, but I knew what she was capable of. I just wished she believed in herself more.

With a sigh, I walked to my place beside Rielle, where the wall curved toward the far end of the chamber. Elio joined me there as my partner. Our layered hands would touch the ice soon. Our magic would thread into it. That thought sat heavy in my chest.

Isa had told us pairing made the spell easier to manage, especially for those of us without experience. Two minds were simpler to sync than three or four, and sharing the strain across a pair meant the spell was less likely to splinter. I had no argument with that logic. We might be powerful, but we were still students, still learning. And this spell was more demanding than anything we had attempted before.

We had trained. We had studied. But this felt different.

This was the moment we stopped preparing and started trying. Halven was not an idea. He was not a name or a mystery or a rumor. He was a person I had studied beside, laughed with, shared meals with. He was a person I loved. Not like I loved Veyn. But deeply. Truly.

This was no longer about theories.

It was about getting him back.

But none of us knew if we could.

We were standing at the edge of something our ancestors had never touched. This wasn’t a spell they knew. The theory was sound, but now it was time to prove the execution could hold.

Isa’s voice broke the silence, soft at first, but clear enough to reach all corners of the chamber. It wove through the mist like a spell of its own, easing through the tension without unraveling it.

“You already know your parts. You’ve practiced the theory. You’ve honed the spells. This is not new ground. But what lies ahead is harder than anything we’ve done before, not because you are unprepared, but because what we are attempting is not a simple a spell.”

The words settle into a place inside me where they lay cool and even. They were true. Every one of them. But knowing theory did not always translate to execution. I glanced at the others again, taking quiet stock of our readiness, of the subtle signs of nerves hidden behind bravado or silence.

Isa paused, letting her words breathe in the stillness. Her eyes moved across our line, searching and finding something within us to continue.

“You will feel the strain,” she said. “You will doubt yourselves. And when the Binding begins to resist you, you may even think you’re failing. But you are not. The entities will push back. But together we are stronger than them.”

“Yes!” Ardorion said.

The sound jolted through the quiet. No one echoed him. A few students shifted uncomfortably, but he only gave a sheepish smile like he meant it. Maybe he did. Maybe he was right to feel such optimism. I wished I could feel that as easily, too.

Isa’s voice softened again. “This isn’t about perfection. It is about intent. Shared, steady, and real. Hold to it. Breathe into it. Let it anchor you. Let each other anchor you. Once you’ve achieved a true Binding with each other, then the designated stronger magic user will guide your Binding to me so that I can use it to bind the entities to the ice once more. Then Neir will be able to put them to sleep again.”

Her gaze moved across the room again, this time slower, softer.

“You are all here because of Halven,” she said. “An extraordinary young man, who has extraordinary friends. Hold on to that. Trust each other. And most of all, trust yourselves. You are not alone in this.”

She gave a final nod.

“Get into place.”

I inhaled slowly. The spell could work. It had to. But even as I moved to my place, my mind ticked through every way it might go wrong. Still, I held the one truth Isa had given us tighter than the rest.

We were not alone.

Elio blinked at me, his usual calm resting just beneath the surface. Of all of Halven’s quadmates, Elio was the one I didn’t know as well, but there was something grounding about him, like he had learned to be solid for other people. I was grateful for it.

Still, my eyes drifted to Veyn. He stood near Isa, hands at his sides, face unreadable. He didn’t look at me. He hadn’t looked at me for more than a passing moment in days. That hurt more than I wanted to admit. Whatever had grown between us, it was now locked behind walls I could not reach.

As the stronger magic user, Elio placed his hand directly on the ice. Once our magic bound together, he would anchor it to nature before passing the Binding to Isa. I lifted my hand and set it over his, our magic already stirring beneath our skin.

Then we both took a deep breath just as Isa said, “Begin.”

Rielle looked up to me expectantly, and after I gave her a short nod, we began, our words echoing from all the other pairs linked at the ice wall.

“We bind this power to nature, our anchor. Let it hold what cannot be held. Let it steady what would shatter. Together.”

The words left my mouth with practiced rhythm.

I kept my gaze steady, but part of me still lingered on Veyn.

Perhaps I could only save Halven today, but I hoped to save us, the future I could have with Veyn.

Magic poured through me like sap rising in spring, warm and grounding. My aura flared to life, copper threads shimmering along my arms, spiraling outward in slow curls. It hummed beneath my palm.

Elio remained solid and calm. His eyes shifted first, glowing amber-white from deep within, like a pair of suns behind thick glass. Light spilled from his skin, a golden veil rippling around his hands, so warm it reminded me of sunlight breaking through tree branches. Even the air near him felt different, softer, lighter.

We looked at each other, and I held his gaze. Not a word passed between us, but I felt his intent meet mine.

Our voices continued to blend in quiet unison.

We bind this power to nature, our anchor. Let it hold what cannot be held. Let it steady what would shatter. Together.

Amber light from him and copper from me wove into the earth beneath the ice. Our spell steadily took hold. The lakebed welcomed us, grounding our magic in something ancient and steady.

Lines of power bloomed all throughout the chamber, curling through mist and into the frozen wall. Everyone concentrated, driven by their love and friendship for Halven. Binding threads hummed around us, a harmony of color and rhythm. My magic flowed easily through the connection with Elio, his golden warmth grounding mine.

Isa stood near the center, her presence rippling with power I could not fully parse. The air around her felt charged, but indistinct, like the hum of a thought you could almost grasp. But I could read Veyn’s magic intertwined with hers, the pulse of it a homecoming I had missed.

Together, Isa and Veyn had created their own Binding spell, with Isa grounding it in the lake.

Within the ice, Elio released our part of the binding, letting our magic pass into her hands so she could bind it all together. The convergence began at the center, then radiated outward, seeking the largest concentration of stored energy within the lake.

As the spell extended toward that core, a hush settled over us. A feeling somewhere between fear and certainty. Waiting to see if the structure would hold.

The ice accepted us, threading our magic into its depths. The lake itself became our anchor. Each brush of that larger presence against my magic sent tremors through my senses. Such immensity. The difference between channeling a stream and feeling the current of an ocean.

For a moment, I found myself wondering if this was what it had felt like for Chaos, shaping the gods from raw force. Incomprehensibly vast power.

We were inside it now. Woven to it. And for that one suspended breath, I believed we could do it. That it would be enough to bring Halven back to us.

The ice wall groaned. A long, hairline crack shimmered across its surface, spreading outward from where Halven’s hand touched the frozen wall. Pale light pulsed from his body, not strong, but steady. My breath caught.

Even with the cracks, it was working.

Copper and amber lights rippled along the surface beneath our hands, joining the delicate web threading toward the center.

I glanced up. Our shared intent was holding.

Then a flame erupted from deep within the lake. It spiraled fast, burning red and gold, streaking straight for Ardorion and Rielle’s thread. I barely had time to recognize it was not Ardorion’s.

The fire slammed into their connection.

The thread ignited. It cracked like lightning, hissed, then shattered.

Rielle’s scream tore through the chamber as the magical backlash threw her back. She hit the ground hard, rolling. My heart seized as Ardorion yelled for her.

I could not even call her name. My throat clenched shut.

My instincts screamed to go to her, but Elio’s steady presence beside me held me in place. His golden veil shimmered beside my copper glow, our magic still tethered to the lakebed. My hand trembled, but I stayed firm. We could still save Halven.

The ice convulsed again. On the other side of me, water snapped free and surged forward, a thread lashing out, fast as a whip. Aster gasped, her hands jerking as she fought to restrain it. But it slipped past her defenses and struck Garnexis across the chest.

Garnexis yelled as her body slammed into the far wall.

My mouth opened, but no sound came.

The entire chamber pulsed. Light flared from the lake. Magic recoiled. Every thread surged outward, wild and chaotic.

The glow from our connection trembled. I wanted to stay. I wanted to keep going.

Then Veyn’s voice cracked across the chamber. “Drop the spell.”

Isa moved in a blur, mist curling from her fingers. Fire hissed out. The whip of water dissolved.

The lines of light faded, all threads gone. The binding was broken.

But the fury thrashed behind the ice wall, a pulsing thing of magic, red, silver, blue, and even black.

Everything went utterly still in the room. Not silent, not really. The air still buzzed from the spell’s collapse, threads of magic retreating like wounded things, but no one moved. My heart pounded in my ears. I took a step toward Rielle.

Before I could reach her, Veyn was in front of me. His arms closed around me so fast I barely understood what was happening. His voice was low against my ear. “She’s all right. Aster will heal her. You are safe. Thank the gods.”

I froze in his embrace. Then I let my eyes close for just a second, maybe longer. His scent curled around me, evergreen and warm soil, like the garden alcove near the greenhouse. Safe. I let my forehead rest against his shoulder. I wish I could stay there.

“Don’t let me go,” I whispered.

He leaned back, cupped my cheek, and nodded. “I don’t want to.”

His hand lingered a moment longer before he stepped away.

He crossed to Isa’s side, the set of his shoulders full of worry. Then I turned back to the others. Rielle sat up now. Her left arm hang bare, the skin unbroken but the burned edges of her robes and dress at the top of her shoulder indicated she’d been hurt.

Aster stood, and Ardorion went to her, but my attention was stolen by Orivian’s sharp words.

“You can’t do anything for her, dragon.”

Orivian kneeled over an unconscious Garnexis, Isa on the other side, using her healing Water magic.

“And you think she wants to see your face after what you said to her?” Elio said, a true growl in his throat.

“Elio.” Lo’s soft voice seemed to be saying so much more than his name.

Did Elio fancy Garnexis? I wouldn’t have seen that with everything that has been happening but now I couldn’t unsee it.

Either way, I hoped Isa could help Garnexis. I worried she was unconscious. How badly had she been hurt?

My gaze drifted to Halven.

How many more of us would be hurt for this secret?

And how could we possibly save Halven, or anyone, if we didn’t even know what we were dealing with.

My arms wrapped around my waist. I felt so powerless and Halven needed me. “He’s still trapped.”

No one said anything, then Elio growled again, making me wonder if he planned to shift into his dragon form any minute now.

He clenched his fists. “Why did fire come from the lake? They attacked with both Fire and Water.”

Most of us looked to Isa for the answer.

Then Ardorion said, “I felt their Fire magic. Before. When we first came here.”

Would Isa deny it? Her lips parted, but no answer came. I wasn’t sure we could trust her yet.

I crossed my arms. “What kind of magic do these entities even have?”

Isa looked so tired as she glanced at the fractured ice. So much older in that moment. “We failed. That’s all you need to know.”

Ardorion’s haired flared. “Why not tell us the truth?”

Isa crossed the space to the ice wall, trailing fingers across it. She sighed, quite audibly before turning back to us. “There are truths that are not my own to tell. I have no right to interfere in edicts of the gods.”

The gods?

In a way, that made sense. Somehow these entities were connected to the Firebird, whether he was their caretaker or friend or maybe even an enemy. But Isa’s answer only created more questions. Who or what else would have that kind of relationship with the Firebird? More gods? Or something more powerful?

The Firebird had said we needed to keep them sleeping. A message for us, which meant we could do this. I didn’t want to give up yet.

Ardorion must have felt the same way. “What if Binding isn’t enough? What if we try Fusion too? To trap the entities’ magic before it can react? We create a containment with Fusion to control their magic, then try the Binding spell.”

Aster looked at Ardorion, like the rest of us, but it was the first time I caught a glimmer of her feelings for Ardorion. She was hard to read, always locking away her emotions behind an icy exterior. I had hoped my friend wouldn’t be hurt by her in the end, but now, I wasn’t so sure she would hurt him.

Veyn and Isa shared a look.

Veyn saw something in Isa’s face that made his brow furrowed, and his voice low and sharp when he spoke. “Isa, this is too dangerous. We nearly lost two of them already.”

Isa’s jaw tensed, but her tone stayed level. “Fusion may offer the stabilization we lacked. We will control it.”

“Control?” Neir stepped forward now, his voice hard like stone. “You speak of control, but one student was nearly burned alive and the other crushed. This spell should not involve them at all. They should never have been here.”

Isa turned to him fully. “They are my students, Neir. And I will not deny them this. Not when they came to save the one we failed to protect.”

“You’re risking them.”

“They know the risk,” Isa said, her voice gaining strength. “And if they choose to go on, I will allow it.”

Neir’s gaze flicked to Rielle, then darkened. His silence said more than any words.

Veyn blew out a breath, rubbing his forehead, then looked at Ardorion. “You believe this will work?”

Ardorion nodded once.

Veyn sighed, resigned. “Fine. We try again. Three pairs for the Binding Spell. As before, Isa and I will add our magic to anchor the Binding on the entities. While Ardorion and...”

“Aster,” Ardorion said. “We’ve practiced Fusion already, and the entities used both Water and Fire magic to attack us. Aster and I are perfect for combatting the attack with a containment made of our Fusion.”

Veyn nodded again, slower this time, but I knew that look in his eye. He was seeing Ardorion in a new light. I felt proud of my friend in that moment. Not many took Ardorion seriously because of his nonchalance and ability to find trouble anywhere. But he genuinely cared, about people, about life, and about his studies, which made him strive for excellence, even if it didn’t look like it.

Veyn continued his instructions. “Ardorion and Aster will contain the entities’ magic through Fusion. We need to be careful. We cannot afford another collapse, for anyone to get hurt again. If the entities begin to fight back and make it through the Fusion containment, we drop the spell immediately.”

Isa’s voice remained steady as she gave the next instruction. “Choose the partner whose magic aligns best with yours. Trust is essential. Find the pair you can hold your intent with.”

Before I even turned, I already knew who I was going to choose.

Rielle.

My gaze found her across the chamber just as hers landed on mine. She grinned, small but sure. I felt the tension ease in my chest. Of course she had the same thought I did. We had practiced together enough to know our rhythm could hold. Even through the pain, even after what she’d just endured, she was still with me.

I gave her a nod and she started toward me.

But then Garnexis’s voice cut across the room like a drawn blade. “I claim Elio.”

Several heads turned. I didn’t need to look to know who was fuming already.

Sure enough, Orivian reacted with all the grace of a metal storm. He didn’t say a word. Instead, he slammed his fist onto the desk with a loud crack and sent papers flying. The slap of his boots echoed as he stalked away from all of us, tension rippling off him in waves.

Garnexis didn’t even flinch. “Really? Throwing tantrums now? Someone get the baby a blanket.”

Elio tried not to smile. He failed.

Isa didn’t acknowledge the outburst at all. She simply waited, letting the silence settle while the rest of us quietly moved to claim our positions.

Rielle was already at my side by the time I stepped up to the ice wall. Her movements were slower now, more careful. The ghost of pain still lingered in her eyes, even as she nodded to me and placed her hand over mine.

My palm touched the frozen wall. Cold rushed into my skin, but I held steady. My magic stirred beneath the surface, pulling from the roots of the ancient tree in the ground. Copper shimmer coiled at my fingertips.

Rielle’s aura brushed mine, soft and cool. Silvery blue waves rippled out from her hand like starlight across still water. Her touch was light, but the power behind it pulsed strong and deep. She was steady, despite what she had just endured. I admired her for that.

We took a breath together, and then spoke the shared intent in unison. “We bind this power to nature, our anchor. Let it hold what cannot be held. Let it steady what would shatter. Together.”

Our magic answered.

Wood and Moon fused where our auras met. My copper glow stretched forward, threads curling like roots through the air. Rielle’s magic joined it, trailing behind in silver-blue ribbons. The threads wove into the ice, finding the cracks and sliding deep inside. Our bond formed a lattice, a quiet harmony of contrast and purpose.

Behind us, the air shimmered with heat and mist, fire and water dancing in controlled tension. Ahead, our Binding held.

At first, it worked.

Rielle’s magic moved with mine, steady and clean, silver-blue light flowing between the threads of my copper glow like moonlight between branches. Together, our binding held. Held the way it had during training, only stronger now. Sharper. The urgency tethered us tighter than any lesson ever could.

Further down the curve of the chamber, Ardorion and Aster moved in tandem, fire and water spiraling in careful circles. Their Fusion curled toward the base of the wall, rising and falling like a wave timed to breath.

Threads of light unfurled across the ice wall, converging like veins drawn toward a single point. They curved inward, deliberate and controlled, all of them aiming for Halven’s block of ice. For the first time, the Binding spell formed completely, precise and radiant, its structure holding with clarity.

Veyn raise his hands, his movements sure. This time, he guided the threads himself, and beside him, Isa exhaled in visible relief. The strain in their posture eased. Veyn’s aura, green edged in gold, pulsed in rhythm with the spell as he thickening our lattice until it no longer just held the ice. He redirected the magic, not toward Halven, but deeper. Into the lake. Toward the entities where all the ambient power originated. He was going to bind them.

Isa moved then. She stepped away from the edge where she had anchored herself and approached Halven’s ice prison. With both palms placed flat against the wall, she began her own work. Air and Water shimmered around her arms in measured spirals as she summoned the spell to unbind him. Her magic coiled inward, delicate but unrelenting, gently peeling apart the older layers of the spell that tied Halven to the lake. Frost gave a soft, brittle crack beneath her fingers.

Then Neir stepped forward to join Isa.

He moved with intent, quiet and precise, and placed both hands on the ice. Moonlight surged across his arms, flaring in a blast of silvery-white magic. A second spell began to take shape, different from anything the rest of us could recognize. Only Rielle would be able to understand the structure of it, but we all knew its purpose. Neir was casting the spell that would put the entities back to sleep, coaxing them into slumber like a predator lulling dangerous prey.

Around us, the light shifted. The glow surrounding Halven’s ice dulled, the sharp brilliance fading to something softer. But the magic had not faded. It had simply changed. We were getting closer. It was working.

I stared, awe tightening the back of my throat. No part of this had been part of the original plan. Not the dual casting. Not the way Fusion and Binding had finally balanced each other. And yet here it was. All of it. Working.

I dared to believe it might hold.

The Binding around Halven flickered gently as the old magic receded from his containment. The color around him dulled from sharp blue to a softer frost. His hand, the one against the ice, shifted slightly, as though he were coming back.

My pulse stuttered. I could barely feel my hands.

Then it started.

First, a single crack deepened near the bottom of the wall. The sound was quiet, like a frozen breath shattering.

The line crawled sideways.

Then another. Higher this time. Water bled from it in a slow, steady trail.

We weren’t freezing the lake anymore.

We were thawing it.

The moment the fractures in the ice deepened, I felt the shift in my bones.

What had started as hairline cracks now spread in spiderwebs of gleaming threat. Veins of weakness pulsed across the wall like something alive. I barely breathed. Then came the sound I feared most—water leaking.

It started slow. A thin, deliberate trickle. Then more. Steady, seeping.

The ice cracked again.

This time louder.

And from within the lake, the screams began.

Inhuman. Echoing. Layered. A chorus of fury and pain. My hands trembled against the ice. I looked toward Rielle, our thread still holding, just barely. But the pressure behind it began to distort, pulse outward like an eruption waiting to happen.

Fire tore through the cracks, jagged lines of heat that made the water boil. Moonlight shimmered through the ice in slivers, luminous and hungry. Water magic flooded with it, all of it colliding in chaos. Ardorion and Aster’s Fusion magic buckled under the strain. They trembled. Their balance failing.

Then came one scream, louder than all the others. It cut through the air like a blade, so raw it twisted something deep in my soul. The sound echoed, layered and discordant, like the last breath of too many gods at once. A moment later, the air split. I felt it before I saw it—waves of magic surging out from the ice in every direction. Fire. Water. Moon. Unbalanced. Uncontrolled. Crashing into each other with violent force, like the elements themselves had turned against us.

My thread faltered. My magic buckled.

One by one, the Binding threads flickered and the ice wall exploded in a lattice of new cracks.

A voice shattered through the rising noise. “Break the spell! Break it now!” Isa. Her tone cracked with fear.

I moved to release but everything erupted at once. Energy from the lake surged toward us, and I flinched, expecting to be struck. But Neir rose up next to us, hands lifted, a storm of magic swirling around him. His eyes turned silver-white, and a dome of pressure shimmered into existence.

His Moon magic exploded outward in a dome, a gleaming silver membrane stretching across the entire ice wall. The backlash slammed into it with a howl. The dome flared, groaned, and nearly split. The sound reverberated through the stone and through my chest. Neir dropped to one knee, his hands shaking.

He was not going to last.

Then Rielle dropped her hand from mine to fall to her knees next to him, her braid whipping around her from the force of his magic. She pressed her hands to his back as she leaned in and whispered something I couldn’t hear.

Her magic pulsed in a soft silver aura, a gentle hum that shimmered across her skin. Her eyes had shifted again, those familiar opal hues glowing with a kind of quiet certainty. The glow of her power spilled from her into Neir, not forcefully, but steady and sure. I recognized the technique immediately. Transference. One of the first spells we ever learned at the Academy. A safeguard. A way to surrender our magic to someone stronger in case of something should go wrong while learning a new spell.

Neir’s barrier responded instantly. It flared brighter, the dome stabilizing with her power behind it. It held.

But not everyone was holding.

Just beyond them, Isa staggered. Her face had gone pale, lips tight, hair clinging to her cheeks. Her hands kept moving, but they were slower now, tremoring with every motion as she tried to keep the frozen lake from melting.

Aster turned toward her without a word. I saw the moment she made the choice. She crossed to Isa’s side and pressed a palm to her shoulder. Her Water magic surged outward and surrendered. Isa took control of it seamlessly. Bolstered, Isa’s magic burst forward, stronger, colder. Frost raced from the base of the wall like a spell catching fire in reverse.

The cracks stopped spreading.

Blue light flared and froze the fractures in place.

Then Lo stepped in to offer her Air magic.

And then I moved. There was no hesitation left in me. I stepped forward and found Veyn’s side.

He didn’t look at me, but he didn’t need to. I knew what to do. I touched his arm and offered my magic, opening myself for him to take over, letting my Wood magic unfurl and wind around his like vine around tree bark. There was no ceremony in it. Just quiet focus. Trust. I felt him take it, and the spell tightened.

I could feel it happening around us. Everyone helping. Everyone giving whatever they had left to those who could still shape the outcome.

Even if we couldn’t save Halven, we could still fight for the rest of us. For the Academy. For everything waiting just beyond that wall of ice.

Finally, the ice wall stabilized.

The cracks stopped growing. Then slowly, impossibly, began to mend. The surface thickened once more into solid ice.

Neir released his combined magics and Rielle fainted after being released. He caught her to him, then backed away as Isa and Veyn turned their attention to Halven.

The light inside Halven’s ice block had faded, and the shape itself was no longer the same. The edges had warped slightly from melting, the structure less stable than it had been. His face twisted, pain evident, etched in the small lines around his eyes and mouth.

Lo gasped. Her magic sparked around her like a reflex. “They’re killing him. Trying to strip him of his magic.”

Isa didn’t flinch. “Not for long.”

Her voice was hoarse, dry with fatigue. But even through it, I recognized the grit. The determination. She wasn’t giving up.

Aster was already beside her, one hand braced against Isa’s arm, her Water magic flowing steady. Lo followed a heartbeat later. Isa’s posture straightened slightly, magic stabilizing with the added support. And then—

Veyn reached for me.

I didn’t hesitate. My hand found his, and the moment our auras touched, he pulled from my Wood magic without pause. He moved with Isa, both of them muttering the Binding spell under their breath, focusing entirely on the threads, the design, the structure of the cast.

It was like weaving a net made of exhaustion. Threading strands of will into something tight enough to hold what still wanted to unravel. I watched closely, studied every line of magic they used. At least what I could read in Veyn’s spell. Isa’s control was precise, but the strain showed in the lines of her face, even with Aster and Lo’s help. Veyn’s Wood magic curled in rooted tendrils, weaving through the block of ice like vines seeking soil.

The Binding threads shimmered. Ice reformed.

And Halven’s face, at last, began to relax.

The web of light around Halven stabilized and softened. The chamber dimmed. Only a faint glow lingered around the edges of the ice and from the two torches.

The lake quieted.

Magic faded. Threads vanished. The cold returned.

Mist curled around our ankles. The silence that followed was not peaceful. It was numbing. Veyn tightened his grip on my hand even though he didn’t look at me, his focus on the frozen lake.

The others looked at Halven, at the ice wall, at each other, stunned. The cold seemed deeper. Elio wrapped his cloak around his shoulders, and Garnexis pulled her arms tight over her chest. Even Lo looked like the chill had gotten into her bones. Rielle, now awake, sheltered in Neir’s arms.

The room was too quiet. The only sound was the drip of water falling from the ceiling to stone. Then someone murmured, “What do we do now?” Another voice followed. “Should we find more magic users?” Then, quieter, “Can we even save him?”

Heat filled me, my heart beating faster. The ache of defeat throbbed behind my ribs. I pulled away from Veyn and marched toward Halven. Tell me what to do to save him, Sylva!

But I knew my goddess was asleep as she had been for many millennia.

The anger heating my blood was for my helplessness. I hated it.

“We accomplished nothing!” I said.

Isa’s voice broke the silence following my declaration. “We’ve done what we could—”

“What did we do exactly?” Lo asked. Her voice cracked mid-sentence. Her face was wet, though it was hard to tell whether from tears or condensation.

Isa didn’t answer right away. “Some things are just more powerful than what we have the ability to control. This is one of those things.”

The logic of that made sense. But I hated it anyway.

“I can’t accept that,” Rielle said, barely above a whisper.

Isa didn’t respond this time. Someone else did.

“You don’t have to.”

The voice was unfamiliar.

Everyone turned. Even Isa.

The mist near the entrance shifted in unnatural patterns. Not dispersing. Just... making room.

And a shadow stepped forward.

Bare feet. Skin like ice, or maybe mist held together in the shape of a woman. Both visible and not, translucence and starlight woven through form. She was a blue wraith, a ghost that both moved the mist and allowed the mist to move through her.

And the air that came with her did not belong to this plane of existence. A chill threaded with pressure.

She was a specter, but not one bound to life, but to death. The Kōri-onna.

Every hair on my body stood on end.

Her calm voice came as mist curled around her ankles. “I can help you, but someone will die.”