Page 164 of Smoke, Mirrors, & Misdemeanours

“Then we don’t give him the chance,” she said. “The building is still ours for another week, but I moved the children out three days ago.”

Ark stared at her. “Three days? Where are they?”

“Mrs. Thimble’s sister has a farmhouse north of Angelene. It’s cramped, and Devlin’s sleeping on the kitchen floor, but it’s clean and warm and keeps them far away from Alderrath.” Her voice carried a quiet ferocity. “I won’t have those children living in a building that man has his claws around. Not for one more night.”

Ark nodded slowly. “Which means Starlight is empty right now.”

“Empty and unwatched.”

“Then we go,” Ark said. “Now.”

By the time they reached Starlight, the sky had darkened. The orphanage rose before them, its windows dark for the first time in decades—a silent, watching shell. No warm glow spilled from the kitchen. No sound of children’s laughter drifted through the courtyard. Just stillness, and the soft hum of the car’s engine as it idled at the curb.

Beside him, Cassia stayed seated. He could feel her magic, low and resolute, as she gathered herself.

“Ready?” he said quietly.

She exhaled. “No, but let’s go anyway.”

They stepped out into the night.

Cassia unlocked the front door. Emptiness answered them. He didn’t detect malevolence, but something that felt like vigilance. He crossed the threshold behind her, letting her lead. She was the one the house trusted. The one it had protected all these years.

His own presence would always be more . . . complicated.

Ark reached into his pocket, murmured a word under his breath, and summoned a single orb of light. It flared to life—blue-white and pulsing faintly—hovering just above his palm before drifting to hover between them. It didn’t pierce the shadows so much as invite them to settle around its edges.

His own power recoiled slightly. The building wasn’t hostile. But it wasn’t neutral, either.

He stayed close behind Cassia, boots silent on the wooden floor. As they passed the empty rooms, the edges of the magic tightened. Not around them, exactly—around him. Whatever lay in the dark was stirring. The corridor leading to the basement stretched before them, darker than the rest. The air was different here. Thicker. As if the walls were readying to pounce.

Cassia descended the stairs and stopped in front of the door. Her hand was raised, but she didn’t reach for it immediately. He could feel her magic gathering at her fingertips.

He didn’t speak as he prepared himself.

She placed her hand around the doorknob and twisted. The door opened with a faint creak—no resistance. His blue light hovered at the threshold, but the darkness ahead swallowed it whole. For a heartbeat, there was only the yawning blackness of the gap.

Then, from within, something surged.

The pressure hit him first—immediate, overwhelming. His chest caved. Magic surged too fast to channel, instincts too slow to catch up. The floor vanished beneath his feet.

He heard Cassia shout his name, her magic flaring bright—but he was already gone, pulled forward into the dark.

He crashed hard against the concrete floor. Pain detonated down his ribs and stole the air from his lungs. He rolled, coughing, but the pressure didn’t lift. It pressed down harder, dense and crushing, pinning him to the floor. His muscles locked. He tried to draw on the shadows—anything to push back.

The darkness responded. For a split second, he felt it coiling around his arms, curling in his fingers⁠—

Light exploded.

His shadows vanished. His tether snapped, magic shattered. He gasped as the light drove into him—a forceful pulse that turned muscle to fire, nerves to live wires. His vision seared white. His back arched. His hands scraped raw across the floor. He felt something wrench in his shoulder as it caught against the step. Still, the light didn’t stop.

Then—warmth. Weight, sudden and familiar, draped over him.

Cassia.

She covered him without hesitation, limbs wrapped around his, her body shielding him from the raw blast. Her magic surged through the space. Where the light was a violent invasion, hers was a gentle embrace. He felt her hand on his chest, her cheek against his temple, her breath rapid but steady. Her body trembled from the force slamming into them both, but she didn’t pull away. Didn’t falter.

She pressed closer. Between him and it. Between him and everything.