The final pulse of crimson magic dissolved into the library walls with a hiss, leaving a heavy silence in its wake. The three of them—Heiko, River, and Alia—collapsed into the nearest chairs, lungs burning, skin damp with sweat.
For a long while, none of them spoke. The only sound was the faint crackle of candles, as if even the flames were nervous to intrude upon the darkness that had just filled the room.
Alia’s face was drawn tight, her usually composed features sharpened with fury. She slammed her palm onto the oak table, making the scrolls tremble.
“Damn Peter!” she spat, venom lacing every syllable. “I could never have imagined he’d be so blinded by greed—so foolish as to unravel the seals for his own power.”
River, still catching her breath, lifted her gaze from where her finge
