The masquerade ended in chaos. Students scattered like bewitched moths while staff tried to restore order and sweep away the lingering chill that clung to the hall like a bad omen. Even the enchanted banners had curled inward, as if recoiling from what had passed through.
Rose sat on the edge of a fountain in the east courtyard, her mask dangling from one hand. Nimbus perched on her shoulder, unusually quiet.
"They weren't just looking at us," she said, staring at the sky. "They recognized us."
Basil leaned against the stone wall nearby, arms folded. "Elavara said we were a key. What if someone else wants to use that key to open something?"
Rose rubbed her temple. "I don't like the idea of being someone's magic crowbar."
From around the corner, Belladoma approached with a long black coat flapping like bat wings. She didn't waste time. "We know who the intruder was."
That got both of their attention.
"His name is Mortain. Former necromancer of the Court of Hollow Embers. Exiled. Masked. Fond of theatrics and undead symbolism. No one's seen him in a hundred years—until tonight."
Rose frowned. "And he just waltzes in during a school party?"
Belladoma nodded grimly. "Because he's not just watching. He's choosing. Testing. He wanted to see how close your bond really is."
Basil's eyes darkened. "What does he want?"
Belladoma paused. "To tear open the Veil and pull power from both sides. Life and death. The glyph bond you activated in the Mirrorwood is ancient—designed to balance opposing forces. You're standing in the exact middle of a magical tug-of-war."
Rose stood. "So we're... guardians of balance?"
"Or weapons," Belladoma said softly. "Depending on who holds the chain."
The courtyard grew cold again.
Rose looked to Basil. "What happens if Mortain tries to use us?"
Basil's answer was immediate. "We don't let him."
Belladoma nodded approvingly. "There's an old vault beneath the school. Forgotten by most. Locked with mirrored runes. It contains a relic that might help you understand the bond—and protect it."
Rose raised an eyebrow. "And let me guess. It's cursed, trapped, or both?"
"Don't be ridiculous," Belladoma said, turning away. "It's cursed, trapped, and guarded by something with too many eyes."
Before she disappeared into the mist, she added, "You'll leave at dawn. Together."
As she vanished, Nimbus whispered, "Can I fake my death? Just for a week?"
Rose chuckled tiredly. "You'd come back out of curiosity."
She turned to Basil. "You still in?"
He held her gaze. "Always."
For a moment, the world was quiet—just them, moonlight, and the faint shimmer of connected glyphs beneath their skin.
Then Nimbus sneezed sparks all over the courtyard. "If we die down there, I'm haunting the next masquerade shirtless."
Rose grinned. "Now that's a threat worth surviving for."