Page 168 of Smoke, Mirrors, & Misdemeanours

Cassia had seen magic her whole life—her mother’s kitchen spells, her own small enchantments, the wards on her house. But this was different. Precise. Measured. The kind of magic that expected problems and planned for them. This was Aegis & Ash’s magic.

Caius was kneeling at the edge of the design, finishing a final line. It flared to life under his stylus. Rhodes leaned against the staircase, arms crossed, the air around him shimmering faintly—a ward, freshly constructed. He gave a curt nod as they entered. “The room is sealed. Nothing gets in or out that we don’t allow.”

Cassia’s breath came a little faster. The sigils glowed, the air hummed, and the weight of what they were about to do pressed down on her chest.

“Will it hold?” she asked.

Rhodes peeled away from the stair’s post. “Against a territorial house spirit? We hope so. If it lashes out, that’s what I’m here for.”

“I’ve designed a diagram meant to feel inviting—like a welcome mat,” Caius explained. He nodded toward the amulet at her chest. “The rest is up to her.”

Ark’s hand found hers, his thumb brushing across her knuckles. She looked up and found him smiling at her. “Don’t worry,” he said. “This is what we do.”

“Have you ever transferred a protective, violent-at-times guardian of Untethered children before?”

He tilted his head, as though considering. “No. But we’ve been told we excel at learning on the job.”

From across the room, Rhodes snorted. “Just remember to run fast.”

Ark shot him a chastising look. “Don’t tease. She’s new to this.”

Caius rose, brushing chalk from his hands. A small smile played on his lips. “Something tells me you’ll be seeing this a lot more from now on.” He winked at Cassia, then joined Rhodes by the staircase.

Cassia stepped up to the diagram. Moonlight and rain-streaked glass turned the scene ethereal. She could feel the weight of their work around her—the preparation, the precision, the trust they’d placed in her to finish it.

Don’t think about that, she told herself. Just do what you came to do.

She looked down at the amulet. It was glowing fiercely now, warm against her skin, pulsing in time with her own heartbeat, as if asking to be released.

She pressed the latch. The amulet opened with a soft, definitive click.

A sigh of golden light spilled out and unfolded into the space above the sigil. It didn’t rush; it bloomed. The lines on the floor responded, blazing with silver light that reached up to meet the gold. Then the light gathered itself. In the centre of the sigil, a form condensed—the same suggestion of a woman, tall and graceful. She was clearer than in the basement, her form holding for a few precious seconds. Her head turned, and though she had no discernible face, Cassia felt her gaze lingering. Not an inspection—an acknowledgement. Recognition stirred in her chest again, stronger this time. She still couldn’t name it, but something in her—deeper than memory—whispered that she knew this presence.

Then, with a sound like a distant chime, the figure dissolved. Strands of magic poured down into the sigils, seeped into the floorboards, and raced up the walls in a wave of gentle radiance. The luminous sheen settled over everything—a permanent, gentle glow in the grain of the wood, the texture of the plaster. A blessing etched into the very substance of their home.

Beneath their feet, the floor pulsed. Once. Twice. Then a third, stronger thrum that vibrated up through their bones. The building groaned—a deep, structural sound—as if a missing keystone had slid perfectly into place. The diagram flared with blinding light, then faded. The charged silence gave way to the simple, comfortable quiet of a house at peace.

Rhodes let out a low whistle. “Well. I’d say she likes the welcome mat.”

Caius scanned the room, eyes narrowed. “The magical resonance is stable, exceptionally so.”

Ark stepped up behind Cassia and settled his hands on her shoulders. His grip was warm, grounding. She felt him exhale—a long, slow release of tension.

“It’s done,” he said quietly.

Cassia looked down. The amulet was dull and cool in her palm. She closed it and let it fall against her chest. She smiled at the glowing, breathing, happy house.

“Welcome home,” she whispered.

42

CASSIA

Ark’s shower was steaming hot, but Cassia preferred it that way.

She stood under the spray, eyes closed, head bowed, letting the day rinse off inch by inch—salt, sweat, ash, and the invisible grit of uncertainty that clung tighter than anything physical. The anxiety had pressed so tightly around her ribs she hadn’t drawn a full breath in hours.

Now, she let it all go.