Iris absorbs my words in silence, her eyes flicking between mine and the body. Then, as if I had just handed her the most exciting puzzle of her life, she grins. “I ammostintrigued.” She pivots on her heels, her boots clattering from all the buckles strapped across them. “I’ll get to slicing and dicing right away.”
She strides toward a workbench, retrieving an array of tools. The room is lined with metal tables, each holding something different—glass beakers, swirling vials, distillation equipment, and stacks of surgical instruments. Others, like the bone saw, are far more…intense. There are other devices I don’t recognize, ones covered in barbs and coils that Idon’twantto recognize.
“How hard is your mind to break into?” Iris calls over her shoulder, lifting a spiraling drill with a wooden handle. Kalix moves to her side, extending his hands as she starts stacking tools into them. He watches her with an amused smirk.
“Pretty damn hard,” I reply, crossing my arms. “I’ve been trained to shield since I was young, and I am two hundred years old.” I don’t often dwell on my age, but right now, I feel it. The reminder gnaws at me; today, something managed to breach mymind. A space I had guarded viciously. A feat no one had ever accomplished, but one.
Kalix snorts, “Shit, you are old.”
I hear him yelp before I even look up. Iris has pinched him, hard, mumbling under her breath, “I’m one hundred and twenty.What does that make me, little mortal?”
Kalix grins, flexing his arms as he clutches her tools tighter to his chest like a prize. “A cradle snatcher. A cougar mama, if you will. Little mama.” He leans obnoxiously close trying to nip at her cheek.
Iris swats at him but with a smile tugging at her lips. “Down!” She corrects, smacking him lightly on the nose as if he is an unruly pup. Kalix’s laughter fills the room, a deep, rich sound, warm as aged wine, reverberating through the bright space.
Cage watches them with a bemused smile of his own. “I am two hundred and six. I suppose that makes me the ancient one here.”
Kalix, still following Iris like an obedient pup, nods without looking back. She carries nothing but a simple rag, while he is loaded down with her supplies. The contrast is almost comical—his burly frame towering over her as he hauls her tools like a dutiful pack mule.
“It’s true,” Kalix muses, placing the instruments down with exaggerated care. “Which is why I kick your ass when we spar. Your old blood just isn’t up to par.” His grin is full of smug confidence.
Cage rolls his eyes. “Right. That’s definitely why you occasionally win. Has nothing to do with other reasons.”
A silent exchange passes between them, one of those wordless conversations built from years of familiarity. Cage’s silver gaze narrows ever so slightly, assessing. Kalix’s smirk deepens, his posture relaxed but knowing.
Iris, either uninterested in their silent game or deliberately ignoring it, turns her attention to me. “It’s not that I doubt you’re skilled,” she says lightly, but there’s a thread of calculation in her tone. “For measurement and documentation purposes, I just need to understand the extent of your defenses …” She trails off as her gaze flicks between us, hopeful, her bright grin an attempt at reassurance.
“Would you be open to letting Cage attempt to break into your mind? It would help me gauge where the strength lies. Ultimately, the hope is that it will help us understand how this girl let the Crep in. Certain magics and curses have their own weaknesses. If I can identify what it is, I might be able to counteract it.”
I revolt at the very thought. Letting him in—even attempting it—is unthinkable. There is too much in my mind he isnotallowed to see. It would leave me vulnerable, leave an exposed nerve ready for him to exploit. I would be a fool to allow that so willingly.
“No.” My voice is curt, final. My muscles tense at the suggestion, the finality of my answer resonating down to my bones. I place my hands on the steel table, forcing my attention to the corpse. A distraction. I study the body as if it holds answers, as if I haven’t already looked it over a dozen times.
I feel Cage’s stare before I even glance up. He’s dissecting me without even reaching into my mind, his focus pressing against my skin like a blade. I lift my eyes, locking onto his.
“If your ability to keep others out is so strong,” he muses, his voice carrying a dangerous undercurrent, “why are you worried? Maybe you’re not as powerful as you claim, little witch.”
A challenge. A taunt, a dare. My fingers drum against the table, slow, measured. I won’t bend under the pressure of a mere mage—especially not him. I scoff, tilting my chin up in defiance. “Give it your best shot then, little mage.”
His satisfaction is instant. He leans back against the table behind him, utterly relaxed. His smug expressions sets a spark against my temper. His silver eyes darken, churning with flecks of white as his power begins to unfurl.
The air shifts.
A cold pressure seeps into my mind, like water suddenly flooding into a sealed space. My awareness sharpens as the sensation ripples against my defenses—like waves lapping at the edges, testing me. Like a shark, his magic circles around me, hunting for a weakness.
He hasn’t attacked yet, but I feel the strength of him. The water churns, swirling more chaotically as he ventures closer. I push back, fortifying my defenses. The walls in my mind rise—tall, reinforced, and unbreakable. Jagged spikes grow from them, forcing him to keep his distance. Still, his magic lingers just beyond.
Then, the water shifts again. Something moves.
Tentacles, massive and slick, unfurl from the depths. They slide along my walls, tightening their hold, to anchor them in place. More rise, coiling through the water like serpents, ignoring the spikes that dig into their flesh.
The first strike comes—not a brute-force attack but something more patient and calculated. The fine tips of the tentacles begin to twirl, drilling into the wall at multiple points. I feel the pressure building against me and push back.Hard.
Iris’s voice rings through the space like a distant warning. “Remember, he is simply trying to break your wall. Do not attack him. Cage, do not attack her. If you do break the wall, come out immediately.”
Restraint, the hardest lesson of all. I seal up the cracks as quickly as they form, reinforcing my defenses, refusing to give an inch.
The water ripples again, and this time, something floats toward me. Alone, in the dark abyss of my mind, it drifts.
