CHAPTER FIVE- THE TRACKING GEM

RAGNAR 

"We have arrived."

The door swung open, and I heard the chauffeur's sharp intake of breath following his horrified gaze. I looked down at my unbuckled belt, my trousers pooled around my ankles in a bunched mess.

Yeah. That probably looked bad.

Before I could say anything, not that I owed anyone an explanation for my interrupted revenge, Lucian bolted. He practically threw himself out of the limousine like the vehicle was on fire, and took off running.

"What the actual hell was that?"

The chauffeur cleared his throat awkwardly. His neck was flushed red with embarrassment. "Sir, I... should I...?"

I yanked my trousers up and buckled my belt. 

"What are you waiting for? A memoir? Close the damn door and stop gawking."

He practically scrambled to obey, shutting the door and scurrying back to the driver's seat like I might bite him. Which, honestly, wasn't entirely off the table at this point.

Caleb shut his book and stepped out of the limousine with his usual effortless grace. 

"Well," he said, adjusting the collar of his perfectly tailored shirt. "I'm glad I didn't have to suffer through the trauma of seeing your nudity. That was a bit too much, even for you.”

“And he ran? Did you see how he bolted? Like a scared rat?” I crossed my arms, “are you thinking what I'm thinking, Caleb?” 

“That whoever was in there with us had no scent?”

Exactly. 

When I leaned in close to Lucian, when I had gotten right in his face, close enough that our noses were practically touching I should have been hit with his scent. Every wolf had one, unique as a fingerprint, a fundamental to our identity as our names. You could mask it temporarily with suppressants or cologne, but you couldn't eliminate it permanently.

But when I had gotten close to whoever that boho was I smelt nothing. 

He came out and lifted his luggages from the trunk, I followed suit.

“Damn, these are heavy.” Caleb was fit, strong, but he had over packed. Wordlessly, I reached out and took two of his suitcases in one hand.

“Show off.” He snorted. 

“You're welcome,” I rolled my eyes. “Now, what about the arrangements?” 

"Yes, and I have good news and bad news." He turned to face me. "The good news is that I was able to change our rooming arrangement in the system. We will be roommates, which should make things significantly easier for... our purposes."

"What's the bad news?"

"The bad news is that Lucian Ashen is going to be our third roommate."

My fingers curled into a fist. 

“On the bright side, maybe that's not so much bad news.” Revenge was a dish best served close. 

"I thought you might feel that way. But Ragnar, in the midst of your revenge fantasies, I hope you don't lose sight of the reason why we are here."

I huffed. How could I?

"I know. I haven't forgotten. My revenge against Lucian Ashen is just going to be an interesting side dish to the main course. A little personal satisfaction alongside the serious work."

He hummed. 

"Just don't let it distract you. The trials here are brutal enough without adding unnecessary complications. Students die, Ragnar. Regularly. We need to keep our eyes on the priz—"

I shoved a suitcase to his chest. 

"Are you going to keep lecturing me or will you do something else, something better like I don't know, duh... actually go over the plan?" 

“Ouch—thanks Ragnar, just..thanks.” He murmured something along the lines of asshole and continued anyways. “The moment we pass through the gates, we make a beeline to the dorm-maasters, we get our dorm number and pass, then make a line toward the dormitory. Surveillance is by the corner wall, directly opposite the dorms on the left, that path leads to the library vault which we will be breaking into.” 

I snapped my fingers. 

“Right. Did you bring the tools?” 

“What do you take me for, a novice?”

I guess he did. 

••••

We didn't lurk around to sightsee. 

No. We were two men on a mission. 

I, being the paragon of brute force and speed, handled the breech. We had spent two months studying every section of this lock, practicing times without number. Combine that with the lock-picking skills I picked up in high school, I cracked it open under two minutes. 

Which left us eight minutes to get in and out of here without being busted. 

I waved my open palm at him. 

“Where is the poly?” 

“Right.”

He placed a skin-like material in my hand. The poly-fabric he had created held a perfect copy of Headmaster Valdren's handprint. He had gotten it during the Selection Ceremony, offering the Headmaster a drink with his typical gracious charm, when Valdren had set down the glass, Caleb had made sure to collect it with a cloth, preserving the fingerprints.

I pressed the fabric to the handprint panel and held it there, instantly, the carved designs on the door began to glow with a soft green light, and I heard the heavy noise of multiple locks disengaging.

Hell-Yeah!

We were in. 

The door swung open, surprisingly quiet for something so massive and old, revealing a small chamber beyond it. We slipped inside quickly, and Caleb pulled the door half-closed behind us, leaving just enough gap to hear if anyone approached this side of the corridor wing.

The walls were lined with shelves containing various artifacts and relics, gems, scrolls, and objects of power. Each one was carefully labeled, catalogued and protected by what I assumed were multiple layers of security magic. Caleb glanced at his watch. He had set a timer on it the moment we collected our dorm passes. 

“Have you seen it?” Caleb asked. 

We were studying each shelf the fastest we could for the tracking gem. 

“Not ye—wait,” I moved closer to the shelf at the corner and pointed to a black box roughly the size of an egg. “That's it, right? That's got to be it.”

His lips parted. 

“Norales, you have the eye of an eagle.” 

I crossed my arms, a small smile stretching my lips. 

“I mean, I have no objections when you put it like that.”

He meticulously reached out for the black box with a metal pincher, he then grabbed it with the thongs of the pincher and held it between us. 

“The moment of truth.” 

He produced an object from his pocket, a small vial containing what looked like liquid starlight. Another relic from his family's collection, one that would react to the tracking gem if everything worked correctly to reveal the location of the moon claw. 

He uncorked the vial and let a single drop fall onto the gem.

We held our breaths like foreign creatures under water.

According to our research, the gem should turn green when in proximity to the moon claw, pointing us toward its location like a compass. If it turned red that means that the Moon claw was miles away. 

Hopefully it would turn green.

The drop hit the gem's surface and spread across it like mercury.

But nothing else happened. The gem stayed black, completely and utterly black.

"What?" I stared at it. "How is this possible? We know that the Moon claw is here.” I shook my head. “Add another drop.” 

He held the vial above the gem and added another drop, then another, and another. 

Nothing happened. 

And I knew what it meant. 

The gem refusing to work means that the only person who could make it work is somebody who practices the Forbidden Arts.

The Forbidden Arts was an ancient technique that had been banned generations ago by the council, deemed too dangerous and unpredictable for modern use. 

"What are we going to do? There is only one family in our territory that is known to be capable of practicing the Forbidden arts. The Ashen family.”

And only a female first born was capable enough. 

Thalia Ashen. Lucian's invisible sister. 

The daughter the Ashen’s kept locked away and hidden from society.

“This is an impossible situation.” Caleb sighed, looking at his watch. 

It was announced at the Selection that Thalia Ashen had made the decision to relocate permanently to human civilization. Meanwhile we were in the heart of werewolf civilization. Thousands of miles away. 

I inhaled deeply. 

“It truly is.”

•[IN THE DORMITORY— DORM 5 WING A]•

It was nicer than I had anticipated. Three beds arranged along the walls, each with its own small desk and wardrobe, a central common area with a few chairs and a small fireplace, with windows that opened up to the view of the hibiscus flowers behind our block. 

"So what now? Our entire plan depended on being able to track the Moon claw without access to someone who practices the Forbidden arts….” 

Caleb sank on his bed. 

“Repeating our obvious misfortune won't make the problem go away. I don't know what is next, Norales. I don't know what we can do…I just…I don't know.” 

“Maybe we can contact—”

The doors to our dorm burst open. 

The person on the other side was panting, like they had run a distance. 

"Sorry, this is my assigned dorm. I—"

They stopped mid-sentence as their eyes lifted fully to meet ours. And I got my first really good look at the face of whoever had been pretending to be Lucian in the limousine. The person tried to turn, but my hand was quicker. 

I grabbed them by the shoulder and spun them back around to face us.

"Oh no you don't," I snarled. "We need to have a little conversation, 'Lucian.' Starting with who the hell you really are.”