254 Ava: In the Attic
Just as I’m about to suggest we try something else–anything else, like banging until we find at hidden door–movement catches my eye. A shimmer ripples across the far wall, like heat waves rising from sun–baked asphalt. It swirls and coalesces, taking on the familiar appearance of the portals we used to travel to Dakota Sanctuary,
Relief floods through me, tempered by caution.
Magister Orion asked for a portal, but his directions were vague. There’s a hell of a lot of world out there.
Marcus steps forward, his jaw set with determination. “I’ll go first,” he says, his tone brooking no argument. Before I can protest, he’s through the portal, vanishing in a blink.
Vanessa and I exchange a quick glance, an entire conversation passing between us in that split second. Together, we step into the swirling vortex.
The world twists and blurs around us, and for a heart–stopping moment, I feel like I’m falling through an endless void. Then, abruptly, solid ground materializes beneath my feet. I stumble forward, colliding with warm bodies in the darkness.
“Oof!” Vanessa grunts as we all tangle together, a mess of limbs in a space that feels far too
small.
“Sorry,” I mutter, trying to extricate myself without elbowing anyone in the face. “Where are we?”
A rustling sound, then a click. Soft light floods the space.
Marcus stands a few feet away, his hand on a dangling pull cord attached to a bare bulb.
As my vision clears, I take in our surroundings with growing amazement. We’re in what appears to be an attic, but unlike any attic I’ve ever seen. The space is absolutely crammed with… stuff. Artifacts of every description crowd the room, lining shelves, stacked in corners, hanging from
the rafters.
There are ornate mirrors with tarnished frames, their surfaces cloudy with age. Delicate porcelain figurines pose next to weathered leather–bound books. Intricate clockwork devices. tick softly, their gears exposed like mechanical organs. Crystals of various sizes and colors catch the light, throwing rainbow reflections across the walls.
Despite the sheer volume of objects, the attic is surprisingly clean. No cobwebs drape the corners, no dust coats the surfaces. It’s as if time has been suspended here, preserving everything in a perfect state of organized chaos.
“What is this place?” Vanessa breathes, her eyes wide as she takes in the spectacle.
I shake my head, at a loss for words. The air itself seems charged with potential, tingling against my skin. My newly awakened magical senses hum, picking up on some sort of energy present in the space.
Marcus moves cautiously, his trained eye scanning for potential threats. “It seems safe enough,”
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254 Ava: In the Attic
he says after a moment. “But I wouldn’t touch anything if I were you. No telling what some of these things might do.”
I nod in agreement, though my fingers itch to explore. We might not know where we are, but I can tell there’s magic somewhere.
Each object seems to whisper secrets, promising knowledge and power if only I’d reach out and grasp them. I clench my fists at my sides, resisting the temptation.
“We need to figure out where we are,” I say, forcing myself to focus on our immediate situation. “And more importantly, how to contact Lucas and the others. They need to know what’s happening. Sister Miriam and Selene will have no idea how to get back to us, either.”
I didn’t ask Magister Orion how to use that damn communication orb, but at least Vanessa brought it along.
Marcus nods. “First, stay with Vanessa. I’ll investigate the area. We need to make sure it’s safe.”
“Just because it looks peaceful doesn’t mean it is, the healer agrees.
As if in response to her words, a faint sound reaches their ears. I don’t hear anything, but Marcus holds a finger to his lips, tugging at the light again and letting the attic
I can hear it now.
go dark.
Footsteps, coming from somewhere below us. My breath catches in my throat as I exchange alarmed glances with Marcus and Vanessa.
We’re not alone.
My heart pounds against my ribs as Marcus and Vanessa move in tandem, shoving me behind them. Their bodies form a living shield, and I struggle to quell the surge of guilt that rises in my throat. They shouldn’t have to risk themselves for me. I’m not worth their lives.
I press my lips together, fighting the urge to protest. Now isn’t the time for heroics or misplaced pride. I force myself to stay still, to become as small and quiet as possible in this cramped, magical attic.
The silence stretches, broken only by our shallow breathing. Sweat beads on my forehead, trickling down my temple. The air feels thick, oppressive. Every creak of the floorboards beneath us sends a jolt through my system.
I can feel the tension radiating from Marcus and Vanessa. Their muscles are coiled tight, ready to spring into action. My body thrums with nervous energy, my heart booming in my ears.
The soft tread of footsteps on stairs. They’re getting closer.
Marcus reaches for something. Once I hear the soft schnick, I understand. It’s his knife.
He’s going to take them down if he has to.
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