Chapter 5 · Failure Behind the Door

The ring wasn't on Cass's finger anymore, and his father's voice was coming through the door Mara just opened.

Cass lunged forward. "Wait—"

Mara's hand shot up, palm out, and he felt the air thicken between them like someone dropped a wall. Not magic. Just her. The same way she'd stopped fights in the yard with one look. She turned her head just enough that he could see the edge of her jaw, tight, and the ring on her finger catching the amber glow from the runes.

"Stay," she said.

His father's voice kept going. Calm. Instructional. The kind of tone Cass remembered from lessons he'd slept through. "...the secondary anchor requires a living heir. Blood won't suffice. The seal responds to intent, but intent requires..." A pause. Then a cough. Wet. "...sacrifice of the observer. If you're hearing this, the first sequence failed."

Mara tilted her head. "Observer?"

Cass's throat went dry. "I don't know."

"You keep saying that." She still hadn't looked at him. The ring sat loose on her finger, too big, but it wasn't sliding off. The band pulsed faint red in rhythm with the runes on the walls. "But you knew enough to get us here. You knew enough to bring me."

"I didn't bring you. You followed me."

"Because you wanted me to." She finally turned. Her eyes were sharp and tired and done with him. "You've been feeding me breadcrumbs since the exam hall. You think I didn't notice?"

He didn't have an answer for that. Mostly because she was right.

She stepped closer. Close enough that he could smell the char on her coat from when they'd blown through the tower wards. Close enough to see the thin line of blood dried on her collar. She held up her hand, the one with the ring. "This thing's been humming since I put it on. It wants something."

"Then take it off."

"I tried." Her voice dropped. "It won't move."

Cass felt his stomach twist. "What?"

"You heard me." She grabbed his wrist and yanked his hand up between them. His finger, the one that had worn the ring since he was twelve, looked wrong. The skin was pale. Bloodless. And at the base, where the ring used to sit, a thin black line was spreading up toward his knuckle like ink in water.

"What the hell is that?" His voice came out higher than he wanted.

Mara's grip tightened. Her thumb pressed against his pulse point. Not gentle. "You tell me."

"I don't—" He tried to pull back. She didn't let go.

"Stop lying." Her other hand came up, the one with the ring, and she pressed it flat against his chest. He felt the heat of it through his shirt. Felt his heartbeat stutter. "You've died already. Haven't you?"

The air went out of the room.

Cass stared at her. At the way her mouth was set. At the way she wasn't blinking. She knew. Somehow she knew.

"How many times?" she asked.

He didn't answer.

She shoved him back a step. Not hard enough to hurt. Hard enough to make a point. "How many times, Veyr?"

"Four." The word came out before he could stop it. "No. Five. I lose count."

Something flickered across her face. Not surprise. Something colder. "And you didn't think that was worth mentioning?"

"Would you have believed me?"

"No." She let go of his wrist. Stepped back. The ring on her finger flared brighter. "But I would've slit your throat faster and saved us both some time."

He almost laughed. It came out as a cough. "You still might."

"Don't tempt me." She looked down at her hand. The ring was tighter now. The band had shrunk to fit her finger, and the red glow was crawling up under her skin like veins. She hissed and shook her hand, but it didn't stop. "What did your father do?"

"I don't know. He didn't—he never told me. He just said keep it on. He said when the bells rang I'd understand." Cass took a breath. His finger was going numb. The black line had reached his second knuckle. "He said I was the only one who could finish it."

"Finish what?"

"I. Don't. Know." He bit down on each word. His hand felt like it was freezing from the inside out. "All I know is every time I die I wake up in my dorm and it's exam morning again and the day runs the same and I can't stop it."

Mara stared at him. For three breaths. Four. Then she swore, low and sharp, and grabbed his hand again. "When did this start?"

"The black line? Just now. When you put the ring on."

"No. When did you start dying?"

"This morning. First period. Something came through the wall and ate half the class." He watched her face. Watched her try to decide if he was insane. "You were in the third row. You threw a chair at it. Didn't work."

Her jaw tightened. "I don't remember that."

"Because it didn't happen yet. Or it did and we're stuck before it." His hand was shaking now. He couldn't feel his finger past the first knuckle. "I don't know the rules. I just know I keep waking up and you keep not believing me and we both keep dying."

She was quiet. Then she looked down at the ring on her hand. At the black line crawling up his. "Your father's voice said the seal needs a living heir."

"Yeah."

"You're the heir."

"Yeah."

"So what happens if you're not living anymore?"

Cass felt the cold reach his wrist. "I don't want to find out."

Mara pulled him forward, past her, toward the door. The one still cracked open. The one his father's voice had come through. "Then we go in. Now."

"Wait—"

"No." She shoved the door wider with her shoulder. The red light from the ring flared bright enough that he had to squint. On the other side was a narrow room. Stone. No windows. A circle carved into the floor, and in the center, a chair. Empty. "Your father said the first sequence failed. That means there's a second."

"That doesn't mean we should—"

"You're dying right now, Veyr." She turned her head just enough to look at him. Her face was half-lit by the glow, and for a second he could see the exhaustion under the anger. The fear she wasn't saying. "So unless you've got a better plan, move."

He didn't.

They stepped through together. The door swung shut behind them with a sound like a bone breaking.

The runes on the walls lit up all at once. Not red. White. Blinding. Cass threw up his arm and felt Mara do the same next to him. The air smelled like copper and burnt hair. The ring on Mara's finger was screaming now, high-pitched and thin, and the black line on Cass's hand stopped crawling.

It started burning instead.

He gasped and dropped to one knee. Mara caught his shoulder. Her hand was hot through his shirt. "Cass—"

"I'm fine." He wasn't. His hand felt like he'd shoved it into a forge. But the numbness was gone. He could feel his fingers again. All of them. The black line was still there, but it wasn't moving.

Mara pulled him upright. "Look."

The circle in the floor was glowing now. The same white as the runes. And in the center, the empty chair wasn't empty anymore.

There was a figure sitting in it.

Tall. Dark coat. Hands folded in his lap.

Cass felt his heartbeat skip.

The figure turned its head.

It had his face.

Not exactly. Close enough. Same jaw. Same hair, a little longer. Same scar on his cheekbone from when he'd fallen off a balcony at nine. But the eyes were wrong. Too sharp. Too present. Like someone who'd never slept through a single lesson.

The other Cass smiled.

Then he spoke.

His voice was quiet. Conversational. The way you'd warn someone about ice on the steps.

"Don't trust the girl."