Elora's POV
Just like that we were back to falling again.
Of course. Why stop now when we could go insane?
I flailed midair like a particularly ungraceful paperweight. One that screamed profanities at gravity. Beside me, Kael twisted and spun with the elegance of a tossed spoon. Somewhere above us, the countdown reached zero and vanished, like it had never mattered in the first place.
"Any idea what's below us?" I shouted over the rushing wind.
Kael tilted his head like he was listening for floor echoes. "Judging by the acoustics? Certain doom."
"Cool. Same vibe I was getting."
The wind shifted, dragging us sideways. I collided with him, elbow-first.
"Sorry!"
"Your elbow is the least painful part of today."
Then we saw it: a giant golden net stretched across what looked like a canyon of shifting bookshelves. Below the net,was more nothing. Above it—our rapidly descending bodies.
I didn't even have time to scream before we hit it.
Kael's POV
We bounced.
I'll never forget the indignity of it. One moment, I was bracing for bone-crushing impact; the next, I was ricocheting like a sack of potatoes off a golden trampoline.
Elora slammed into me mid-bounce, her face mushed against my ribs. "We good?" she muffled.
"If by 'good' you mean alive but utterly confused, yes."
The net finally stilled beneath us. We lay tangled together in a heap of limbs and breathlessness, staring up at the cavern ceiling.
Then a soft mechanical click echoed from all directions.
From the walls, dozens—no, hundreds of floating books turned to face us. Glowing eyes blinked open on their covers.
One book yawned.
Another sneezed glitter.
"Elora," I said slowly. "The books are waking up."
She sat up. "Of course they are. Because why wouldn't they?"
Elora's POV
"So what now?" I asked, already dreading the answer.
A book wearing spectacles (yes, spectacles) flapped open and hovered toward us like an overworked librarian. "Welcome to the Library of Secrets," it intoned. "The Vault judges must now read your souls."
Kael made a face. "That sounds invasive."
The book ignored him. "Your choices shall be documented. Your thoughts filed. Your regrets catalogued."
"Oh hell no," I snapped, backing away. "No one's cataloguing my regrets, thank you very much. I've barely processed them myself!"
But the books began to hum, flapping around us in a lazy spiral. Their pages flipped on their own, revealing scribbled notes, diagrams, even moving pictures.
Kael and I stood back-to-back, surrounded.
"This is worse than the flamingoes," I muttered.
"Much worse. At least they had the decency to be ridiculous."
Then one book landed squarely in my lap.
It opened. Inside were my thoughts.
Written in my handwriting.
Page One: "I hate the way Kael smells. It's distracting. Also kind of nice. But mostly annoying."
I shrieked and slammed it shut.
Kael leaned over, grinning. "What was that?"
"Nothing! Personal! Go read your own damn trauma diary!"
Kael's POV
I shouldn't have laughed.
Because a second later, my own book smacked me in the face.
It opened to a page that read:
"Sometimes I wonder if I'm just pretending to be the hero. Maybe I'm the villain no one noticed forming."
I blinked. The words weren't just thoughts,I remembered writing them in my head. Quietly. Late one night. When the rest of the world had stopped pretending I was anything other than a weapon.
Elora saw the look on my face and stopped teasing.
The books closed with a sharp snap.
Then the floor below us gave way.
Again.
Elora's POV
We didn't scream this time.
Honestly, we were getting used to it.
This time, we landed in a narrow tunnel lit by floating lanterns. A carved message glowed on the wall:
"Only one may ascend."
Kael exhaled through his nose. "Still on that, huh?"
"Guess the Vault's really pushing this betrayal arc."
We started walking, side by side. No more jokes. No more glitter birds. Just the hum of ancient magic and the weight of inevitability.
"What if we just... didn't choose?" I said.
Kael glanced at me. "What do you mean?"
"What if we refused to let it divide us? What if we chose each other instead?"
He stopped walking.
I kept going a few steps before realizing.
"Elora," he said. "What if choosing each other is the trap?"
Kael's POV
I didn't want to say it. But someone had to.
The Vaults were designed to test everything: our morals, our limits, our loyalties.
What if this was the final test? To see if one of us would choose power over the other?
I hated the idea.
I also couldn't ignore it.
"Elora, if we both try to enter the final door—what if we both lose?"
She shook her head. "Then we fail together."
"You're too noble for this place."
"And you're too dramatic."
I smiled.
Then the walls lit up with moving images.
Kael—standing over a battlefield, flames in his eyes.
Elora—crowned in shadows, commanding a storm.
It was showing us... possible futures.
One if I entered alone.
One if she did.
Both of them terrifying.
"Maybe the Vault isn't asking us to choose who wins," she whispered. "Maybe it's asking who we trust not to destroy everything."
Elora's POV
It hit me then, like a punch in the gut.
The Vault didn't want a winner.
It wanted a decision.
Not about power.
About trust.
I turned to Kael, my throat tight. "Do you trust me?"
"With my life."
"Then let me go through."
He froze. "What?"
"I need to. For my sister,for my past. I need to face whatever's on the other side."
Kael's jaw clenched. "And what happens to me?"
"I don't know. But I know I wouldn't make it without you. And if you go in alone... I think you'll lose yourself."
"I'd rather lose myself than lose you."
Tears stung my eyes.
We were at the final door now.
A golden archway pulsed with power.
Only one may enter.
The door began to open.
I took a step forward—
Kael's POV
And I stepped in front of her.
"Elora," I said. "You trust me, right?"
Her eyes widened. "Yes. But—"
"Then trust this."
I grabbed her hand.
Whispered an ancient word I hadn't used in years.
And shoved her through the door.
She screamed my name.
I watched her disappear into the light.
Then the door slammed shut behind her.
Silence.
The tunnel dissolved.
And I fell.
Again.