Chapter 19

"Ready?" Cassius’s voice was a smooth, firm anchor in the swirling sea of my nerves. My gaze found him standing with an easy confidence near the hearth.

I straightened my spine, forcing a confidence I didn't entirely feel. "Ready."

A ghost of a smirk haunted his lips before vanishing. "Listen, Thalia. Follow my instructions to the letter. Teleportation isn't just difficult; it's dangerously easy to get wrong."

"What kind of wrong?" I asked, my confidence wavering.

"The kind where your focus splinters and you end up scattered across the province—or nowhere at all," he said, his tone devoid of melodrama. It was a simple statement of fact, which made it all the more terrifying. "You must be precise."

I gave a slow, deliberate nod, my mouth suddenly dry. "Okay."

"We'll start small," he explained, his voice softening. "Go stand by the door."

I crossed the room, the cool marble a solid reality beneath my boots. I turned, my back to the heavy oak door, and faced him.

"Good. Now, close your eyes," he commanded gently. "I want you to visualize your desk. Don't just see it; be there. Inhabit the space."

I let my eyelids fall. The image bloomed behind them, sharp and immediate. The grand window at my back, spilling cool morning light onto the floor. The familiar grain of the mahogany beneath my phantom fingertips. The worn velvet of the blanket I kept draped over my chair. I pictured the hidden drawer where I kept my diary, imagined the chill of the marble floor on the soles of my feet.

"Now," Cassius's voice cut through my concentration, sharp and clear. "Draw your mana. Feel it answer you."

A familiar thrum answered my call, a current drawn from a deep well within me. It pooled in my palm, tingling like a captured star.

"Imagine a doorway opening right in front of you," he instructed. "A portal connecting this spot to that one. Will it into existence."

I focused on the intent, on the impossible act of folding space. The air before me shimmered, then tore. The sharp, clean scent of ozone and something wilder, like a storm just before it breaks, filled my nostrils.

"Open your eyes. Step through."

My eyes snapped open to a swirling vortex of lavender and pink, crackling with raw potential. It hummed, a low thrum that vibrated in my bones, beckoning me. My heart hammered against my ribs. I lifted my right foot and pushed it through the shimmering curtain. A pleasant, tingling warmth enveloped my leg. I plunged the rest of my body through.

The world dissolved. Reality shredded into a kaleidoscope of bending light and shrieking color. Just as a primal scream of disorientation threatened to rip from my throat, my feet hit solid ground with a jarring thud.

I was standing in front of my desk.

A triumphant grin spread across my face, but it was brutally short-lived. A wave of intense nausea crashed over me. The room didn't just tilt; it pitched and yawed like a ship caught in a hurricane. My stomach tried to claw its way up my throat.

"You're alright," Cassius's voice cut through the fog, steady and reassuring from across the room. "You did it. The first time is always a shock to the system. Breathe through it."

I leaned heavily against the chair, my fingers digging into the velvet blanket as the world slowly, reluctantly, stopped spinning.

"How do you feel?" Cassius’s voice was low, his piercing blue eyes watching me with unnerving intensity.

"Better," I managed, releasing my death grip on the chair. I took a slow, centering breath, relieved when my legs held firm.

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"Ready to try again?" he asked, his expression unreadable.

I hesitated, the memory of the world-tilting sickness still fresh. No room for hesitation, I commanded myself, clenching my fists. I need this. I met his gaze, forcing conviction into my voice. "Yes."

Cassius turned and walked to the grand window, gazing down at the gardens. His eyes settled on a white pavilion, where an empty table and chairs waited in the shade. After a moment, he shook his head. "Too close. The secret library. No one will disturb you there."

A knot of ice formed in my stomach. The library was on the far side of the palace. The thought of that distance, that plunge into the chaotic in-between, sent a fresh tremor of adrenaline through me.

He must have seen the flicker of panic in my eyes. "Thalia," he said, his voice softening just enough to be encouraging. "You created a stable portal on your first attempt. That's more than impressive; it's rare. You can do this." He took a step closer, his focus absolute. "The principle is the same. It will demand more of your mana, but you have reserves you haven't even begun to tap."

I moved to the center of the room, closed my eyes, and let the image of the secret library fill my mind. The towering, curved bookshelves that smelled of aged paper and binding glue—a perfume of forgotten stories. The antique desk where my mother had once shown me the constellations in a heavy, leather-bound atlas. I pictured the tiny scratch marring its polished surface, a flaw I knew by heart. Holding that image, I drew my mana, weaving it into the shape of a doorway.

I opened my eyes to the familiar, swirling light. Stepping through felt like plunging into warm water. The landing, however, was just as jarring. Nausea rolled through me, and a wave of disorientation left me staggering in pitch darkness. To steady myself, I summoned a sphere of light to my palm; it danced between my fingers, illuminating my surroundings. Towering shelves rose into the gloom around me. I had done it.

The happiness was a flickering candle flame, immediately snuffed out by a cold draft of realization. I was utterly alone. A spike of fear, sharp and sudden, shot through me. I shouldn't linger here.

Desperately, I pictured my room, focusing on the image of Cassius standing there, waiting. I poured my remaining energy into the vision. A new portal tore open in the darkness. I stumbled through it, emerging directly in front of him. As I looked up, the world tilted violently.

Before I could fall, his hands were on my shoulders, his grip an iron brand, steady and grounding. A completely unbidden thought flashed through my mind—He is handsome—and I immediately dropped my gaze to the floor, heat flooding my neck and cheeks.

"How are you feeling?" Cassius asked. Even with my eyes fixed on the floor, I could feel his intense gaze.

"Better than the first time," I admitted, my voice shaky. "But not amazing."

His hands released my shoulders, and he stepped back. "We can take a break."

I lifted my chin, a spark of pride cutting through the nausea. "I made it. To the library."

"I never doubted you," he said, the corner of his mouth ticking upward into a faint, approving smile. "You have an instinct for this. It's natural for you."

The word 'natural' made me fidget. I thought of my clumsy first attempts to summon a mere spark, a stark contrast to the power that now answered my call. "I don't know about that."

His smile widened, as if he'd read my thoughts. "Perhaps not at first. But you've mastered the fundamentals."

As the last traces of dizziness faded, resolve hardened in my bones. I straightened my spine, meeting his eyes. "What's next?"

"This time," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument, "you take me with you. Teleport us both to the library."

I gave a single, determined nod. "Okay." I closed my eyes, ready.

"Thalia." His voice stopped me. My eyes snapped open. "You need to take my hand," he explained, stepping closer. "Physical contact is essential when transporting others, at least at first. It anchors the spell. And you must picture us arriving together. See us both—if you don't, I won't make it through."

Picture both of us. I repeated the rule in my head. He moved to stand beside me, his height casting a shadow over me as he extended his hand. I placed my smaller one in his. His fingers closed around it, firm and sending a distracting warmth up my arm.

I closed my eyes. I focused. I pictured the two of us standing among the towering shelves. But as the image formed, another bled through—my mother, her face bright with a smile, showing me this very room years ago. The memory, sharp and bittersweet, made my focus splinter. My brows knitted together as I fought to push it away.

"Breathe, Thalia," Cassius's voice was a low murmur beside me, a steady anchor in my turbulent thoughts.

I took a shaky breath, and the image of the library slammed back into the forefront of my mind. I clung to it, pulling my mana and weaving the portal. The air crackled. The lavender light swirled to life. He squeezed my hand once, a silent command. Go.

Together, we stepped through.

The transition was a violent, tearing sensation, a nauseating chaos of light and motion that bent and twisted around us. Then, just as suddenly, it solidified with a sickening lurch.

But this wasn't the library. The air was thick and cloying with the smell of damp earth. The ground beneath our feet was soft and yielding. And from ahead of us came a low, guttural growl. This wasn't the library at all.