When I faced the Siren at the Calling, hope flickered—small and absurd under her gaze. Wanting more than my path was foolish. But that rebellion became the embarrassment that reshaped everything.
Chapter 18: Beyond the Veil
“Guys, I need to run back to the Dragontail atrium. I cannot believe I forgot my protection heirloom again.” I said to the red-haired twins, Tran and Rowan, and Shakari.
“If her head wasn’t attached to her body, she’d lose that too,” Tran muttered. “Brother, you sound like an old lady,” Rowan shot back.
Shakari sighed. “Ignore them. Just get your stuff.”
“Not that she even needs it,” Tran added. “She’s kind of incredible without it.”
I was already sprinting toward the atrium, cheeks burning hot with embarrassment. The sting of my own forgetfulness hit me hard. We’d just finished one of Professor Chen’s coercion classes, during which I’d unclasped my family heirloom from my wrist to practice raising my mental walls, and, naturally, forgotten it again. Shame and frustration prickled along my skin.
Tran wasn’t wrong. Three months in, and Dragontail and Emberkeep schedules still felt chaotic, running from wing to wing, class to class. Yet I kept misplacing my protection heirloom, just like on my first day.
The only difference now was that I finally understood: my walls were much stronger than I ever realized. The techniques that Professor Chen taught us were similar to those from the Glass Castle tutors, and I was mastering every single one.
As I came back into the atrium, I heard voices, dozens of them, echoing off the stone walls. When we’d left for class, the atrium was nearly empty.
Then I heard Professor Hog’s voice rise above the chaos.
“All second and third-year have been summoned to the West Ridge Veil posts, basically any student who has passed the Dragontail. That is why your marks are glowing.”
Instinctively, I looked down at my bare arm.
My green-and-gold tattoo was still.
Untouched.
Unmoving.
“Dragontail forces are spread too thin,” Professor Hog continued. “Most are stationed by the Glass Castle for the attack the queen foresaw yesterday. But this morning, she saw another forming on the opposite side of the island. We don’t have enough warriors to defend both fronts.”
The atrium erupted, shouts, panic, excitement, all crashing together in a tidal wave of emotion. The air thickened with fear and anticipation, voices layered so densely I could barely breathe, much less make out a single word.
Then a voice cut through all of it.
“I’ll get everyone to the posts. You know the drill.”
I knew that voice.
I could place it instantly.
Lorik Draventh.
“Align yourselves in four lines, we need to reinforce four of the towers beyond the Veil,” Professor Hog called out. The atrium erupted in movement, boots scuffing and echoing across the stone.
I stepped closer to the entry door and leaned into the narrow gap between the metal frame and the jamb, peering into the atrium. Through the shifting bodies of the crowd, I spotted Lorik by the dais, a tall, dark figure conjuring portals. Each portal shimmered like a mirror the size of the main entry doors, its surface rippling as if made of liquid glass, ringing with shifting silver lines that splayed in all directions. Light flickered across the portals, giving the impression of looking through thin water, yet the image on the other side remained slightly blurred, concealing where the gateways led.
I’d seen him portal himself across the Hall of Mirrors during training battles, but this was different. He was creating a gateway large enough to move entire groups, the kind only the royal guards at the Glass Castle conjured, or the generals’ assistants used in emergencies to reach last-minute battles.
The more I watched him, the more I understood why General Barret had spared him despite his mother’s offense.
Lorik Draventh wasn’t just skilled.
He was immensely powerful.
As I looked around the room, I saw hundreds of students clustered around him, most of them faces I didn’t recognize, likely the entire upper class of Dragontail. But the second-year group that always made a point of taunting me was unmistakable: Marla and Rory, glued to each other as usual and positioned right beside Lorik.