"Steady."

  Magister Tulis's voice came through the sigil embedded in my earring—clear, exactly as we'd anticipated. The signal was strong enough to have him guide us, subtle enough to hide among the manor's countless domestic enchantments.

  Sweat dampened my back beneath the dark cloak as I crossed the manor's main gates alongside the other three hooded figures. Stone crunched softly beneath our boots.

  The estate lay quiet before us, lanterns casting long shadows across trimmed hedges and pale stone.

  The sky was dark, moonless, the stars hidden by thick curtains of clouds.

  We reached the shadowed left side of the manor, stepping beneath the second window.

  Someone on the inside had done their part—the latch loosened, the pane lifted just enough to slip through without sound.

  No alarms, no lights.

  From here on, the four of us would have to play our part perfectly if we wanted to succeed.

  I entered first, followed closely by Allistair Merwood.

  The air inside was warmer, heavy with polished wood and old incense. The wood shifted beneath our weight, it felt as if the manor breathed around us. Aware. I took a deep breath with it.

  We split immediately. No time to waste.

  Merwood and I slipped into the west wing while the others fanned out.

  "East corridor: clear," Theodoor Holdston murmured though the sigil on his ring.

  "South hall: clear," added Marcus Alvane.

  "West wing: clear," Merwood confirmed from the end of the corridor.

  Good.

  Our target stood at the end of the corridor: a tall oak door, unremarkable at a glance, save for the faintly glowing runes carved into the frame. Old work. Layered carefully. I recognized the runes immediately.

  My stomach tightened.

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  I knelt, uncorked a narrow vial and tipped a drop of veil resin into my palm. The substance clung to my skin, warm and faintly luminous, reacting only once it mixed with the powdered crystals from another vial.

  I took the crystal quill from its hiding place in my hair and used it to carefully trace the counter-runes directly onto the ones in the doorframe.

  The world narrowed to curves and intersections, to pressure I couldn't see but feel. The runes resisted me, their energy pressing back as if aware of the intrusion.

  We were supposed to have at least two hours before candidate Isaia returned. Enough time for me to dismantle the protective runes and for Merwood to plant the documents. Just enough time to erase every trace.

  I had to stop a couple of times to wipe with a trembling hand the sweat gathered at my hairline, the fabric of my stealth suit rough on my skin making everything feel more real.

  I had risen to my feet, working on the other side of the door frame—starting to feel more confident as the runes started to react—when a sound froze me in place.

  A piercing shriek cut through the manor.

  The scream drove the air from my lungs. Pressure built behind my eyes as the corridor seemed to shrink around me.

  The sound echoed through the corridor—raw, terrified, unmistakably human.

  My head snapped to the south hall where I could hear commotion.

  I slipped the quill back into my bun and pressed my fingers to my earring.

  "There's a woman screaming in the south hall," I whispered. "Magister, what do we do?"

  I was painfully unprepared for this scenario.

  Silence.

  Two seconds stretched into something unbearable.

  Then his voice returned, colder than I'd ever heard before.

  "Alya, you continue," Magister Tulis instructed. "Marcus, proceed to deal with it."

  Deal.

  The word lodged itself in my chest like a shard of ice.

  That hadn't been part of the plan.

  Our informant had been clear—no civilians in the west wing. No staff. The studio and manor were supposed to be empty.

  Another scream followed, closer this time, asking for help. A crash. A shout cut abruptly short. My vision blurred behind tears. My heart slammed against my ribs.

  "Alya?" Merwood's voice reached me from the earring, snapping me back into focus.

  I pressed my wrists to my eyes hard enough to hurt.

  I had to continue. Whatever was happening on the south hall was for Alvane to deal with, not me.

  Deal...

  I took the quill back and swallowed. I could not afford to fail. The consequences with my family would be...

  Finish it. Just finish it. My part was almost over. Merwood would be taking over in no time and then we could escape.

  My hands trembled as I traced the next line. I poured more magic into it, the doorframe creaked beneath my work, the opposing forces beginning to destabilize. I knew that I was pouring more magic than required, but I had no time.

  I could feel it—the pressure folding, weakening.

  "Almost," I whispered to myself.

  Boot-steps thundered nearby.

  "Someone's alerted the authorities", Theodoor hissed through the sigil. "The enforcers are coming!"

  The runes flared violently.

  I rushed the final marks, crystal dust spilling from my fingers as I hurried the last curves.

  "Wait, I've done it, just one second!"

  Surely the enforcers wouldn't appear so fast. Just one minute.

  The spell was collapsing. I could feel the runes loosening their grip on the door. Their protection fading.

  "Alya, we need to go!" Allistair whispered in a frantic plea as he ran toward a window.

  "Wait! The documents! The runes are almost done..."

  "Run! It's too late!" He insisted with wide eyes before he slipped one leg over the window. I stared at him as he disappeared from my sight. Despite not expecting loyalty from him, a small pang of disappointment and something sharper settled in my chest.

  I felt like screaming in frustration. Where was Magister Tulis? I pressed my finger to my earring. Static. Either he'd cut the connection or something had jammed the signal.

  I heard a door slamming nearby, my stomach twisted painfully as footsteps and voices crashed over me in a blur I couldn't process fast enough.

  I ran towards the window. Everyone was gone.

  The exit was too far. I tried to open a door in a desperate attempt to hide.

  And then the time moved slowly as an iron grip wrenched me away from the door.

  I tried to break free, instinctively reaching for my magic, but the enforcer's binding rune flared ice-cold against my wrist and everything inside me went silent.

  Empty.

  I was dragged backward by multiple hands, boots scraping uselessly against stone.

  The runes on the study's doorframe stared at me as I was dragged away.

  My hair had come undone in my struggle to get free. But still, I could see it.

  I had been so devastatingly close.

  One line short.