At the top of the cavern, Emerilia froze mid-flight. Her wings thrashed as if caught in invisible chains, her body straining but unable to move. I felt a sharp pull through my senses, as though some unseen force was pressing against her, holding her in place. Then, with a sound like tearing steel, she launched a strange metallic feather from her body. The blade sliced through the unseen restraint, and her shriek tore across the cavern high and piercing.

  I snapped my head toward the sentries beside me. Both stiffened at the cry. One scrambled to peer into the cavern, his bow already in hand. The other opened his mouth to shout.

  That was when I felt them.

  Dozens at first. Then hundreds. A flood of movement pressing into the edge of my tremor sense, crawling, swarming, spilling over each other. My heart hammered as I opened my mouth to cry out — but the attack reached us before I could form the words.

  An enormous volley of yellow webbing launched across the cavern, trailing like streaks of lightning. It hit the walls with a wet, burning hiss. One mass caught the guard beside me full in the chest. He screamed once before the threads melted through his armor, the acid eating into flesh and bone as smoke curled upward.

  “Get down!” I roared, diving low. The other sentry dropped in time, rolling behind the crenellation.

  The warning bell rang out from the tower, its clang echoing off every stone of the cavern. Soldiers poured toward the wall, their boots splashing across patches of acid-scorched ground as more webs rained down, sticking and sizzling where they landed.

  The entire fortress was coming alive. Guards shouted, bows loosed, ballistae turned toward the dark. Arrows and bolts lit the air in return fire, streaks of light flashing through the cavern haze. The wall beneath me shook as a surge of magic rippled outward, and a luminous blue shield flared into existence a dozen feet beyond the ramparts.

  The fortress was cocooned in its glow, a shimmering dome of energy.

  Then hundreds of yellow strands smacked into the barrier, anchoring themselves with sickening precision. Magic hissed and sizzled as the acid worked against the protective field, slowly cutting and eating its way inward. The shield buckled but did not yet break. It had bought us time, at least.

  Time for the defenders to ready themselves. Time for the professors to herd the students away from the walls. I caught sight of clusters forming in the courtyard behind us, professors raising barriers and issuing orders to keep the younger ones back.

  But I had already moved.

  In the chaos, no one noticed that I had taken cover near a bend in the wall, out of the professors’ direct line of sight. My daggers were already in hand, my bracers warm against my wrists. I wasn’t going to be sent to the courtyard to wait this out. Not while the cavern shook with the approach of hundreds of enemies.

  Dusk sent me an image that pierced through the chaos. In her vision, a hooded figure cloaked in shadow stood at the mouth of a tunnel where the beasts poured through. Then, in an instant, the figure vanished—replaced by the largest creature yet to enter the cavern.

  It was monstrous. A grotesque fusion of spider and scorpion, its tail arched high, launching volleys of those acidic webs from its stinger. Hundreds of smaller and mid-sized creatures swarmed beneath it, trailing in coordinated waves. Behind them came a line of larger ones, each towering higher than the last. The new arrival was easily three times the size of any before it.

  The shield began to flicker under the relentless assault, its light dimming as the webs layered thick and opaque across its surface. It was growing harder to see through, though my senses cut through the distortion. Then, without warning, Stovall and Aurelia appeared on the walls.

  The river that wound through the cavern began to rise. Aurelia lifted her hands, and the water followed her will. It pressed against the shield, flowing up along its curvature, spreading until the entire dome shimmered with liquid light. Then, with a twist of her fingers, the water froze—turning to a sheet of flawless, crystalline ice that followed the barrier’s shape and reinforced its strength.

  I was in awe. All my training, all the hours studying the theory of aetheric elements, still left me unable to fathom the precision and control she displayed. Her ice was both protection and an art—alive and breathing.

  While Aurelia worked, Stovall unleashed devastation. Through my tremor sense, I felt the ground outside the walls erupt as thousands of earthen spikes thrust upward, impaling the oncoming horde. The cavern floor became a field of death. His attacks were followed by waves of fire, lightning, and wind from the guards, soldiers, and professors who had joined the defense.

  It was the most incredible display of magic I had ever seen, and I had a front-row seat. I tried to memorize everything—the movements, the aetheric shifts, the rhythm of attack and counter. Anything that could help me understand how to wield magic one day.

  Minutes passed like heartbeats. The battlefield below was littered with carcasses, the majority of the swarm dead or dying. Only the largest remained and the giant arachnid that had replaced the cloaked figure.

  Aurelia’s ice flashed bright blue, then shattered into water again, surging forward in a rolling wave. It swept across the field, flooding over the bodies and into the legs of the remaining beasts. The water mixed with blood and sand, swirling into a crimson torrent. Then, with both hands raised, Aurelia froze the outer layer while boiling the inner flow. Steam hissed upward as the cold-blooded creatures convulsed, cooked alive inside their shells.

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  Only the largest one stood against them now.

  A roar split the air as Professor Roark vaulted from the wall. He landed on the ice, his boots gripping as though the slick surface were solid ground. With another shout, his body ignited in a blinding red glow. Two massive battle axes materialized in his hands, pulsing with crimson light that seemed to breathe with him.

  He tore across the frozen plain, dodging broken limbs and acidic webs, then leapt high into the air. His axes came down in a fury of motion, tearing through chitin and sinew, shattering legs and claws. The creature screamed, its tail whipping wildly, but Roark was already inside its guard.

  With one final roar, he threw an axe deep into its side and struck forward with his bare hand, driving his fist through the opening. He grasped something vital, and with a wrenching pull, tore it free. The creature convulsed once, then collapsed in a heap, still and silent.

  Roark stared at what he held—a pulsing, luminescent organ—and began to laugh. Lifting it to his mouth, he bit into it, crimson light spilling across his skin. His aura deepened to a blood-red glow that bathed the cavern in a dim, haunting light before fading away.

  He wiped his mouth, grinned like a satisfied predator, and began the march back to the wall.

  For a long moment, everything was still.

  The cavern was quiet except for the hiss of melting ice and the crackle of dying fires. Smoke hung heavy in the air, thick with the smell of acid and burned flesh. Below the walls, the battlefield was littered with the remains of the creatures. Their bodies were twisted in the strange positions that came from both agony and magic.

  Headmistress Aurelia stood poised at the wall’s edge, her hands faintly aglow with the last traces of her power. The water she had frozen and boiled now ran freely again, carrying blood and shards of chitin into the river below. Across from her, Stovall rested one hand on the rampart, his eyes scanning the cavern’s far end.

  I followed his gaze. The last of the smoke was clearing. The massive arachnid lay still, its black carapace cracked open from Roark’s assault.

  The orc commander stood near it, framed by the fading light of the shield. His chest rose and fell with steady satisfaction. He looked almost peaceful now, as if the fight had fed something inside him. He wiped blood from his face with the back of his arm, then bent and tore another fragment from the creature’s body. He bit into it, chewed, and swallowed before walking calmly back toward the wall.

  So that was one-way orcs grew stronger. I learned about many of the different ways certain races could grow in power. This was the first time I was seeing it happen though. They consumed pieces of powerful creatures, absorbing whatever aetheric strength lingered within them. It was a brutal practice, but effective.

  None of the headmasters seemed bothered. Aurelia gave a brief nod to Roark as he climbed the ramp, and Stovall clapped him on the shoulder. To them, this was routine. To me, it was another reminder of how vast the world of magic really was and how little experience I had.

  Dusk stirred on my shoulder, her eyes reflecting the faint light that filled the cavern. She sent me the image figure we had seen earlier. It was gone but the echo of its presence lingered in her thoughts as clearly as it did in mine.

  I kept scanning the far cavern wall, looking for any sign of movement. Nothing. Just the slow drip of acid and the faint hum of fading wards.

  Had anyone else seen it?

  I wasn’t sure. The chaos of the attack had drawn everyone’s attention to the swarm itself. But I knew what Dusk had seen.

  It couldn’t have been coincidence.

  The thought sat heavy in my mind as the guards began to clear the field and the professors ushered the remaining students back inside. I lingered at the edge of the wall, unsure if I should say anything.

  Would the headmasters even believe me?

  They had to know about the attack’s origin. This was the Academy of Ascension. Nothing here was left to chance. Yet the more I thought about it, the more I wondered if telling them would change anything at all.

  Maybe they had already seen the figure. Maybe they had chosen to say nothing.

  I glanced again at the battlefield below. Roark had joined a group of orc warriors, already recounting the fight in boisterous tones. Aurelia was speaking quietly with Stovall, her hands gesturing toward the ruined cavern entrance. The barrier was reforming now, glowing faintly where it sealed the breach.

  Dusk pressed her head against my cheek, and I felt her question in the back of my mind.

  I exhaled slowly. “I don’t know,” I whispered.

  It felt like something I should go share. I got up the courage to walk over to them and tell them.

  Stovall and Aurelia stood near the battlement’s edge, still surveying the aftermath. The faint light from the shield shimmered across their faces, throwing streaks of blue and gold against the stone. They spoke quietly with Roark and several professors, their voices low.

  I waited until there was a pause in their conversation before stepping forward. “Headmasters,” I began. My voice came out quieter than I intended.

  Both turned toward me. Stovall’s eyes were calm and focused, the way a man looks at a problem he’s already begun to solve. Aurelia’s expression was softer, though there was still a chill to it, like the air she commanded.

  “I believe I saw something,” I said. “Before the attack started.”

  Aurelia tilted her head. “Something?”

  “A figure,” I explained. “It was standing at the edge of the cavern where the creatures came from. Cloaked, tall, slender, and shadowed. It vanished right before the largest of the creatures appeared. I’m sure of it.”

  They exchanged a brief glance. Stovall folded his hands behind his back, his gaze turning toward the cavern mouth. “You are certain of this?”

  “Yes, sir,” I said. “I saw it through my tremor sense. Dusk did too.”

  At that, Aurelia looked toward the small creature perched on my shoulder. Dusk let out a soft sound, something between a chirp and a low hum. For a moment, the headmistress’s eyes glowed faintly as if she was seeing more than the rest of us.

  Then she nodded. “I believe him,” she said to Stovall. “Her kind does not imagine things. If they both saw it, something was there.”

  Stovall’s face tightened. “You did the right thing telling us, Bryn.” He looked out again over the field. “This confirms our suspicions.”

  I frowned. “Confirms?”

  He didn’t answer right away. His eyes stayed on the cavern’s dark opening. Finally, he said, “There have been reports from the other academies and the guilds. Disturbances in rifts. Creatures acting in coordination. If what you saw is what I suspect, this was not a random attack.”

  Roark grunted from behind him. “Someone’s stirring the hives,” he said. “And they’re getting better at hiding their hands.”

  Aurelia’s voice lowered. “We will begin a full investigation. Thank you, Bryn. Go and rest for now. You’ve done well today.”

  I hesitated. “Should I tell anyone else?”

  “No,” Stovall said firmly. “Not yet. The fewer who know, the better. If this figure appears again, you come straight to me.”

  “Yes, sir,” I replied.

  I turned to go, my thoughts heavy but my heart strangely calm. The warning had been heard, and that was enough for now. As I walked back toward the inner halls, Dusk stayed quiet, her eyes fixed on the cavern’s far shadow.

  The last thing I saw as I headed inside was Emerilia landing in her nest at the top of the cavern. I was sure that Asher already knew what had just happened.

  The first semester at the Academy was shaping up to be so much more than I ever could have imagined, and now it seemed like outside forces were beginning to notice.