I turn to look at the golden door properly, taking in details that were harder to appreciate while pretending to sleep.
The flowers aren't just beautiful—they're familiar.
Fae flowers, the kind that grow in the Summer Court that Nikki would have known as a child. The vines form patterns that might be decorative or might be Fae script too ancient for me to read. The golden light pulses with rhythm that matches heartbeats, but two different tempos, slightly off-sync.
Two hearts. Two souls.
Two people sharing space in ways that mirror Gabriel and me but also differ fundamentally.
"Their trial is about unity," Zeke observes, confirming my suspicion. "Not separation but learning to exist together despite being pulled in different directions."
"Like us," I murmur, thinking of Gabriel's willingness to stay hidden to protect me. "But also not like us."
Because Gabriel and I were forced together by Elena's cruel magic. But Nikki and Nikolai—they chose their duality, even if the choice was made under duress. They shift between forms as needed, adapting to survive in world that demands they be something other than what they are.
"Let's save them," I say, squaring my shoulders with determination that feels entirely my own. "Nikki and Nikolai both."
Cassius shadows already reaching toward the door to test its response to the magic.
The shadows don't recoil or get absorbed—they simply rest against the surface, accepted but not pulled in. The door wants us to enter but won't force us. Choice, always choice, even in trials designed to test us.
"Before we go in," I say, pulling out the folded magazine page from my jacket, "there's something you all need to know."
I smooth out the page, showing them the advertisement for the Anima Divide necklace. Their reactions are immediate—Mortimer's scholarly interest, Atticus's vampire curiosity, Cassius's shadows coiling with anticipation.
"A soul-splitting artifact?" Zeke reads, those extraordinary eyes scanning the text with speed that suggests he's memorizing every word. "Eternal Collection…that would be…in Year Four?"
“Are you sure?” I ask, impressed he knows that. He nods in positivity, as if he can see the artifact in his mind.
“Postitive.”
"If it's real," Mortimer adds, though his tone suggests he thinks it might be, "this could be the answer to separating you and Gabriel safely."
"Giving you both independent existence," Atticus continues, understanding the implications immediately.
"Freedom," Cassius finishes simply, but the word carries weight of someone who understands what it means to be trapped by your own nature.
"We need to find it," I state with certainty that surprises me. "After we save Nikki and Nikolai, after we escape this labyrinth, we need to find that artifact."
Not just for me, though the thought of existing independently is intoxicating. But for Gabriel too. He deserves the chance to pursue whatever connection he's developing with Nikki without having to do it through borrowed body and borrowed time.
"Year Four, though," Atticus points out pragmatically. "We have to survive Year Three first."
"Then we survive it fast," I respond, determination hardening into something diamond-bright. "We get through these trials, we uncover the Academy's secrets, we find that artifact, and we give everyone the chance to exist as they choose to exist."
The plan is ambitious to the point of impossibility.
But looking at my companions—my bonds, my loves, my chosen family—I see matching determination in every face.
"The door awaits," Mortimer observes, pulling us back to immediate concern. "Whatever trial Nikki and Nikolai face, it's been going on for some time."
He's right.
We've spent too long discussing when action is needed. But as I approach the golden door, hand reaching for the handle that's shaped like intertwined roses, I feel the weight of what we're about to do.
This is the last trial now.
After this, we either find our way out of the labyrinth or remain trapped in infinite loops of our own making.
