Chapter 8: The Web Tightens
The summons came not on crystal slate, but on crisp, official parchment. It was delivered by a blank-faced courier before dawn. Silas was to report to the Office of Celestial Compliance for a "routine bonding verification" at the ninth bell. There was no signature, only an embossed seal of a balanced scale superimposed over a starburst.
The hunter was using the system.
"He seeks to place us in a controlled environment," Lurk observed, the entity's presence a cold knot in Silas's stomach. "His own territory. The probability of a hostile outcome exceeds ninety percent."
"Can we refuse?" Silas asked, his voice tight.
"Refusal would be logged as non-compliance, providing legal justification for immediate detainment. We are constrained by the very rules he enforces."
So Silas went. The Office of Celestial Compliance was in a stark, white tower separate from the main academy spires. The air inside was filtered and silent, devoid of the familiar hum of magic. It smelled of ozone and lemon. A secretary with glazed eyes directed him to a windowless room containing a single metal chair and a large, crystalline orb on a pedestal.
Agent Corvus was waiting, holding a file. He smiled. It was a perfectly calibrated expression, devoid of warmth. "Mr. Vale. Thank you for your punctuality. Standard procedure, I assure you. Please, have a seat."
Silas sat. The metal was cold through his robes.
"Now," Corvus began, opening the file. "Let's review the anomalies. First, the bonding ceremony. An unregistered 'shadow-type' manifestation. Highly unusual." He made a note. "Second, Fundamental Mana Manipulation. You produced a light-absorbing, sub-zero reaction instead of a luminescent one. A statistical impossibility with any known familiar." Another note. "Third, Warding. You displayed a dampening field, negating the collective spell matrix. Fourth, Alchemical Principles. A first-attempt, flawless stabilization that veteran potioneers would envy."
He looked up, his wintery eyes meeting Silas's. "Four significant anomalies in as many days. The pattern is clear. The system, however, requires more than a pattern. It requires a confession." He gestured to the orb. "This is a Veracity Crystal. It will measure your physiological and spiritual responses. Now, let's start with a simple question. What is the true nature of your familiar, Silas Vale?"
The orb began to glow with a soft, compelling light. Silas felt a gentle pressure in his mind, an urge to speak the truth, to unburden himself. It would be so easy.
"Resist," Lurk's command was a spike of ice in his consciousness. "The crystal does not detect lies. It detects cognitive resistance. You must believe your own words. You must become the lie."
Silas took a shallow breath. He looked directly at Corvus. "My familiar is a shadow-weasel. It is unlisted. Its abilities are strange to me, too."
The Veracity Crystal glowed a steady, calm blue. No deception detected.
Corvus's smile didn't falter, but a flicker of annoyance crossed his features. He tried a different tack. "Have you ever knowingly consorted with entities from outside the Approved Registry? Entities of a... void-touched nature?"
"I don't even know what that means," Silas said, layering his voice with a convincing mix of confusion and fear. The crystal remained blue.
"Are you currently harboring a consciousness not your own within your mind or soul?"
The question was a direct hit. Silas felt Lurk's presence recoil, pulling in tight. He focused everything on the image of a simple, confused student. "No. Of course not." The crystal flickered, a faint tinge of yellow bleeding into the blue for a split second before stabilizing.
Corvus's eyes lit up. "A fluctuation. Interesting. The question caused stress. Why would that be, I wonder?"
"The question is frightening!" Silas snapped, putting real emotion into it. "You're accusing me of... of being possessed!"
The crystal glowed blue. Truth.
Corvus leaned back, steepling his fingers. "Very well. We will proceed to the physical verification. Please command your familiar to manifest fully. I need to take a spectral imprint."
Silas's blood ran cold. This was it. In this sterile room, under the full focus of Corvus and his devices, Lurk could not hide.
"I... I can't," Silas said. "It's shy. It only appears as a shadow."
"All familiars must manifest upon command by a Compliance Officer," Corvus said smoothly. "Article Seven, Section Four of the Celestial Accord. Failure to comply is grounds for immediate familiar sequestration."
This was the trap. Disobey and lose Lurk, or obey and reveal him.
"Query: The vessel's stability is paramount," Lurk's voice was urgent. "A partial, distorted manifestation may be possible. It will cause you significant distress."
*Do it,* Silas thought.
The pain was immediate and blinding. It felt like his soul was being torn in two. A scream caught in his throat. From the shadow at his feet, a form began to rise. It was the vague shape of a weasel, but it was made of shifting, oily darkness. Dozens of pinpricks of light, like distant, malevolent stars, opened across its form. The air temperature plummeted. The Veracity Crystal flared a violent, warning red.
Corvus watched, mesmerized, his device humming as it recorded the impossible data.
And then the door to the room hissed open.
Magus Brom stood there, his face like thunder. "Corvus! What is the meaning of this? I was notified by the Head Archivist that you were conducting a Level Five spiritual dissection on a student without academy oversight or parental consent!"
The distraction was all Lurk needed. The painful manifestation collapsed. Silas slumped in the chair, gasping, sweat beading on his forehead.
Corvus slowly turned, his expression perfectly calm. "The situation escalated, Magus. The subject was resisting."
"I saw the alert! You asked him to manifest a Class Three entity! Are you insane?" Brom stormed into the room, placing himself between Silas and Corvus. "This interview is over. Now."
"The data I've collected—"
"Will be reviewed by the academy council before it goes any further," Brom stated firmly. "You have overstepped, Agent. Significantly."
For a long moment, the two men stared each other down. Finally, Corvus gave a slight, stiff nod. "As you wish. The system will follow its due process." He looked at Silas, his gaze promising that this was merely a delay, not a reprieve. "We will continue this another time, Mr. Vale. When the... paperwork... is in order."
As Brom helped a shaking Silas to his feet and led him out, Lurk's voice was grim.
"The hunter has his data. The web is woven. He now knows what I am. Our time has grown short."
Silas leaned on Brom, his body and spirit aching. He had survived the inquisition, but Corvus had gotten what he wanted. Proof. The next time he came for them, it would be with the full, legal force of the Celestial Bureau behind him. The trap was no longer being set. It was already sprung.