The Academy halls hadn't quieted since Rose's demonstration. Everywhere she went, eyes followed her—not just students, but staff, assistants, even the enchanted suits of armor that lined the corridors. The attention clung to her like static.
Nimbus fluttered beside her head, practically glowing with pride. "You know they're going to name a hallway after you. Or at least a cautionary tale."
"Great," Rose muttered, pushing open the heavy doors to the library. "I've always dreamed of being in the footnotes of magical history under 'Possible Threat.'"
The library's cool hush wrapped around her like a blanket. Rows of towering shelves stood like ancient guardians, and the air smelled of dust, parchment, and quiet judgement. She made her way toward the Brimstone section—restricted, of course—but she had new clearance now. Perks of not combusting during a trial by fire.
She was halfway through scanning the spine of Volatile Hexes and Where Not to Use Them when a figure stepped from behind the shelves.
"Rose Thorne."
She tensed immediately. The man before her wore elegant robes, the kind stitched by tailors who whispered to stars. Midnight blue, with silver embroidery that shimmered subtly with movement. A Council ring on his finger.
"Who's asking?" she said, not bothering to hide her suspicion.
"I'm Ciaran Vex. Shadow Committee."
Nimbus let out a dramatic squawk. "Oh no. That sounds so normal and not ominous at all."
Rose stepped back, lightning crawling under her skin. "Shadow Committee? Let me guess—you spy on the other spies?"
Ciaran's smile was thin. "We handle matters too delicate for public attention. Which is why I'm here. You made quite the impression."
"If you're here to recruit me, save your pitch."
"I'm here to give you a choice," he said, producing a small crystal vial from within his sleeve. It shimmered with contained stormlight—deep violet with flickers of silver. "This is a shard of Controlled Brimstone Essence. Not tainted. Not filtered through the Council's hands."
Rose didn't take it. "And what am I supposed to do with it?"
"Hold onto it," he said smoothly. "Should the Council turn on you—as they turned on your mother—you may find it… useful."
Her jaw clenched. "You knew her?"
"Enough to know they feared her. And now, they fear you."
He placed the vial on a nearby table and vanished between the shelves without another word.
Nimbus buzzed with anxiety. "We should bury that thing in a salt circle under the moon."
"We should," Rose agreed. But her hand hovered over it a second longer than it should have.
Later that night, drawn by a strange impulse, she wandered to the north tower. The stars were sharp in the sky, and she wasn't alone.
Basil Thornridge stood by the railing, silhouetted in silver moonlight.
"Enjoying your victory?" he asked without turning.
She joined him. "Enjoying your brooding?"
They stood in silence for a long moment. Then he said, quietly, "You're dangerous."
She looked over, surprised to find no malice in his voice.
"So are you," she replied.
And for the first time, she wasn't entirely sure if they were still enemies.