The ground rushed toward Makaela like an old friend. Her surroundings faded back into view as she emerged from the shadows beneath her feet. She stumbled forward, falling onto her hands and knees.

She waited for her breath to return. Staring down at her hands, she couldn't help but smile.

I did it. I actually did it.

Castle Braexus and the harsh forests of Romania had been swapped for a quaint, tiny village in Monaco. Sat atop white cliffs overlooking a black ocean were sandy-colored buildings with red-tiled rooftops. A belltower rose above the hills, stretching toward the night sky. Moonlight glinted off the bell as it hung motionlessly. Forests leading down to beaches surrounded the base of the sleeping town.

Dusting pebbles from her stinging palms, Makaela climbed back to her feet.

She wasn't sure how she managed to shadowjump successfully on her first go, but she wasn't complaining. The Shades were a distant memory now. She and her friends were safe.

"That was amazing." She turned, expecting to see Remy and Olivier behind her.

A desolate brick road met her eyes. Streetlamps doused the nearby buildings with amber light.

She was alone.

This can't be happening.

They should've been right behind her. She did everything Sebastian told her to. She envisioned the place, she called upon the shadows. Remy and Olivier were supposed to be right with her. She could still feel their hands in her grasp.

Something pressed against her chest. Fighting to breathe, she staggered forward. Her panicked eyes scoured the alleyways branching off on either side of her. They were only met with shadows and hisses from stray cats.

Where were they?

Her eyes widened.

Sebastian and the others were nowhere to be found either. Had he managed to follow her to Monaco? What if he couldn't? What if he was still stuck in Castle Braexus? Hundreds of anxiety-inducing theories swirled around her head. Taking a few deep breaths, she attempted to calm her nerves.

Everything was going to be fine. They likely got separated. After all, it was her first time shadowjumping. Something was bound to go wrong. She just had to find them.

She faced the street ahead of her. It was barren. With a rueful shake of her head, she began her journey through the sleeping town.

❁

Roanoît hadn't changed at all since the last time she was there. The bakery that sold fresh bread in the mornings was still there. It even boasted the same colorful posters on its windows. The bookstore across from it still had its help wanted sign up. Not a thing had changed.

That was ten years ago.

After the attack on House Lumai's palace in southern France, Olivier brought them there to hide. While being an ordinaire settlement, the town was known to house Solairs. According to Olivier, it wasn't on the council's radar at all. That meant Thorian didn't know it existed.

It was the perfect haven, albeit, temporary.

Sometimes Makaela wished they stayed. But she knew they couldn't. The Order would've eventually found them there, the same way they discovered their hideout in Montreal. There was nowhere on Earth they could hide from them.

She winced as her feet walked along the hard cobblestone. Every step drained her. Both her energy and vitalae levels were critically low. She wouldn't be performing any magic anytime soon. If she got ambushed, that would be the end for her. Gritting her teeth, she soldiered on in search of her group. She just had to find them.

Her aching feet seemed to move on their own as they carried her through Roanoît. They took her down a path that winded down a hill. Buildings gave way to trees, which soon gave way to an intimidating metal fence. Her steps faltered as she approached it.

French words were inscribed on a plaque above the gate. She knew exactly what they said. Her hands trembled as she stood before the entrance of that dreaded place.

The wind whistled through the leaves above her. An eerie song. One of despair, sadness, and death.

The voice in the back of her head coaxed her forward. It told her to find them.

So she did.

With a shaky breath, she passed through the opened gates of the graveyard. Headstones met her gaze, their various shapes and sizes rising from the moonlit grass. Trees swayed above her, their invisible eyes watching her as she passed beneath them.

Ten years.

That's how long it had been since she last heard her father's comforting laugh or felt her mother's warm embrace. That's how long it had been since they were ripped away from her.

She stopped in front of two twin graves. The polished marble was blank. Empty. No names, dates, or words of remembrance decorated the stone. They were the graves of ghosts.

Silence enveloped her like the darkness she stood in. Sniffling, she wiped her nose with the sleeve of her shirt. The chill seeping into her dark skin barely bothered her. A single question burned in the base of her throat.

"Why couldn't you just give him the ring?"

They didn't answer, for the dead replied to no one. The only response given was the whistling of air and leaves scraping the ground.

Digging her shoe into the grass, she glared down at her shoes. "I know I'm supposed to hate him for what he did to us. And I do. But I see him. He's misguided and insane, but he truly wants what is best for our people." She wiped her eyes. "All you had to do was listen to him. Why did you have to fight?"

No answer.

She didn't know what she was expecting.

The tears in her eyes never fell. She didn't let them. She still had a job to do.

As she turned to leave, another chill snaked its way through her. This time, she felt the energy in the air shift. Her gaze snapped to the trees. She couldn't see anyone, but she knew they were there.

The Order was here.

Time to go.

But where? She could barely walk. Running was out of the question. She wouldn't be able to fight them all off either. All her energy was being used to keep from passing out. There was no way out this time. She was trapped.

Her shoulders fell.

Glancing over her shoulder, she found the entrance of the graveyard again. Her only means of escape was from the way she came. It was a long shot, but her options were next to none. She had to move. Fast.

Biting down on her lip, she hobbled over to the black gate. Behind her, she heard heavy footsteps and gruff voices approaching.

"Up ahead!" one of them barked. "Don't let her get away!"

A slew of curses left her lips just as she passed through the gate. The hill leading back into the village looked down at her unforgivingly. Panting, she peeked over her shoulder. The Shades were hot on her tail. There were three of them, each of their palms burning with purple light. Tenebrian magicians. Shadoweavers.

Eventually, they cornered her at the base of the hill. She whirled around, facing them with her hands out. The Illumio hummed on her hand. If she was to survive, she would need its help.

"Surrender," said a Shade.

The trio advanced, masks shining in the night.

"We won't hurt you," another told her.

"Thorian wants you alive," said the third.

Alive?

Surely he would want her dead, especially after the stunt she pulled in Castle Braexus. Why did he still want her alive?

"He said alive," one of the Shades said. "But he didn't say untouched." Nodding at their accomplices, they lifted their hand. "Can't say we didn't give you a chance."

The three of them prepared to attack. Makaela closed her eyes and prepared to let their attacks hit her.

They never did.

A thudding sound pierced her ears. A body hit the floor in front of her. Eyes snapping open, she watched as a shard of light stuck out the chest of the Shade at her feet. A stunning spell zipped past her shoulder before colliding into another. They fell with a grunt, their body seizing up. The final Shade surged forward, magic spouting from their hands.

A glowing whip of gold wrapped around their throat. They grabbed at the lasso crushing their neck, but they were powerless to stop it. Their body hit the floor seconds later.

Makaela stared at the fallen Shades with eyes larger than saucers. She turned around slowly.

Her savior stood at the top of the hill, hooded and illuminated by the full moon behind them.

"Who are you?" she asked.

The stranger descended the hill. Shadows obscured their face. Makaela tensed as they approached her. The golden mark of House Lumai burned in their palm. With a sly grin, they dropped their hood.

❁

Her savior's name was Minerva.

Minerva Moreau.

She was a few inches taller than she was and built like a skeleton. Curly, cinnamon-colored hair stopped just below her chin. Eyes the shade of a lion's hide-gold and glorious-stared back at Makaela. Only members of House Lumai had irises like those. But she wasn't just a housemate-they shared the same last name. Not only was she one of the last living lightweavers, but she was family.

For the past few days, Makaela assumed she, Remy, and Olivier were the last ones left.

But now another Lumaian magician was standing right in front of her. What if more of her housemates were out there? Hiding. Surviving. Hope gathered in her chest and spread across her face.

"You must be exhausted," said Minerva as she poured tea from a kettle into two wooden cups.

The two of them were stood in a cozy shop lit with floating candles on brass dishes. Sage burned somewhere, filling the room with hazy smoke and a potent aroma. Makaela could feel the stress fleeing her body as she breathed it in. Unfortunately, it did nothing for the fatigue.

"I can't imagine what you must've gone through these past few days." The woman handed her a cup of tea.

She brought it to her lips. Chamomile tea. Her mother's favorite.

Had Minerva known her mother? Perhaps her father too?

"How did you know I was here?"

"Lumi shows me things from time to time. I have a special connection with the goddess."

Lumi.

Makaela scowled.

"Where has she been? Why didn't she help our house during the purge?"

Minerva cracked a smile. "The gods can't interfere directly with our lives. They act through conduits like you and I." Her smile deteriorated into a frown. "And Thorian."

Conduits?

"What do you mean? Are you saying Lumi is inside of me?"

"She's inside all of us, dear."

Makaela slammed her teacup onto the tiny table in front of her. "Listen, I appreciate you saving my life, but I need to find my friends. They're in danger-"

"Unfortunately, they will have to wait," Minerva told her. She took a sip from her cup. "We have something else to take care of first."

"Take care of what?"

The woman rose from her seat and flitted over to a cabinet in the cramped room. She returned to the table with a crystal ball in her hands. Specks of gold dotted the opaque crystal. Magic swirled inside.

Makaela watched her through narrowed eyes. What was this lady playing at?

"Who are you?"

"Pierre was my cousin," she explained. "You and I met just days after you were born. While he served our house as its leader, I took a different route. I studied the future and threw myself into my studies. I became a disciple of divination and oracles." She tapped the crystal ball with a long nail. "Of prophecies."

Makaela's hand tightened around her cup.

That's what this was about. That wretched prophecy. Frankly, she was tired of hearing about it. Everything horrible in her life stemmed from it.

"I want nothing to do with that prophecy."

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice in the matter, dear."

Of course I don't.

"You are the Light, Makaela. The Light is destined to defeat the Black Lotus," Minerva continued. "Your destiny is intertwined with his. Your lives will forever be connected."

"But what if I don't want to?"

The woman frowned. "Pardon?"

"What if I don't want to defeat him?" She stared into her cup of tea. A distorted reflection of herself looked back. "He asked me to join him. And I nearly did. He said we would rule this world together after he collected all the Eldenarian Artifacts."

"Don't let that man in your head."

That's the same thing Olivier told her.

"The ordinaires are destroying this world while we sit back and watch," she said. "The Arkangels hunt our people down, using our own weapons and powers against us. How much longer are we supposed to hide in the shadows? Thorian has done terrible things to us and our house, but there's no denying that he's justified in wanting to take the power back from the ordinaires."

Minerva said nothing.

"They hate us, Minerva."

"They don't hate us. They don't understand. There's a difference." The woman sighed. "Thorian craves power. He could care less about the rest of the magician community. He wants the ordinaires to cower before him while he takes this world for himself and his followers. Anyone who opposes him will be cut down like a weed. He's a liar and a tyrant, Makaela."

"A liar? He's the only one who's told me the truth!"

"And what truth is that?"

"That I'm a Nightling."

That I'm a monster.

That was the truth. Growing up, she never understood why everyone treated her like she was some pariah. She always thought it was because of her skin. Now she knew it wasn't-at least, not entirely. She wasn't like her housemates; she was a halfling, in more ways than one. Dark blood coursed through her veins. It tainted her magic, her soul.

She was an abomination.

Minerva gave the girl a once-over. "You're a Nightling? You sure don't look like one."

"My parents knew. My uncle knew. They hid it from me for years."

"I'm sure they meant no harm. We often make bad decisions when it comes to the ones we love."

Shaking her head, Makaela rose from her seat. "I'm sorry, but I can't stay here. I have to find my friends before it's too late."

"I told you," Minerva countered, "we have something to take care of." She gestured at the girl's seat. "Please, sit down."

Makaela's lip twitched. Her friends were probably looking for her right now. Stranded and lost. That's if the Shades hadn't found them. She was wasting precious time with this woman. They needed her, and she needed them.

"Makaela. Sit down."

A growl rumbled in the base of her throat. Crossing her arms, she dropped back into her chair0.

Minerva gestured at her crystal ball. "Place your hands there."

She did as she was told.

The ring around her finger began to glow like a miniature sun. Everything around her began to wane and fade. The crystal ball turned into a sphere of glowing gold. Soon, the entire room was drowned in its blinding light.

Makaela kept one hand on the ball and used the other to shield her eyes.

"What is this?"

"Lumi would like to speak with you."

"Huh?"

A shock rippled through her, lighting every synapse within her brain on fire. Visions of fluffy, white clouds in an endless blue sky filled her head. Her entire body went slack as her hands slipped off the crystal ball. She collapsed onto the table, her consciousness quickly fleeting. The Illumio continued to pulse on her hand.

As she felt herself slipping away, she heard Minerva say, "Don't be too long!"

She closed her eyes.

It was time for another dream.