All Chapters of Veil of Secrets: Chapter 41 - Chapter 49

I soon discovered silence was never the reward of victory. Only the chaos changed form. Obscura Arcanum’s tunnels became my favorite place to think in the waning weeks of the semester. Sewers that serviced pre-ward expansions. The Catacombs older still. Passages forgotten by time and design; meant originally for storage, or escape, or misdeeds that our illustrious leaders liked to pretend never occurred. Evelina knew the layout better than most. Inhaled and exhaled it with barely a thought, always leading by placing one hand at my wrist and looking at me with eyes that firmly said ‘do not question’. I obliged. Hiding tore at every instinct in my body. I had been engineered to occupy space. To thrive in the light. To weaponize fear. To command attention. To be seen. But this wasn’t cowardice for her. Quite the opposite, really. Self-control. And restraint was one lesson I’d learned early. The Circle’s statement had arrived. Maelin was no more. Her traps were littered and broken.

It was still dark when I woke up. Two weeks since we’d arrived in Ember Hills. Two weeks of quiet not laced with threat. Two weeks without waking to chains rattling or whispers of orders branded into muscle memory. Two weeks since I’d dreamt of cages made of lying faces. The whispers had stopped. Not all at once. Not cleanly. Some had stumbled blindly from shadows, teeth bared and snarling promises of return. But now… they were silent. Not dead. Just… Quiet. I lay in bed for a moment longer, listening. Not hollow. Safe. The quiet you don’t hear when you’re waiting to hear your next orders. When there are no eyes pressed against the other side of a mirrored wall, studying your improvements or your breaking points. The kind of quiet I never realized I’d missed. Like clockwork, I rose before the sun did. Muscle memory. Cold stone murmured beneath my boots as I walked across the room, tepid only by Emberbound wards woven into the foundation. Evelina had reinforced them wh

Snow still dusted the eaves like it didn’t want to melt, and I didn’t blame it. Ember Hills had its claws in everything here. Frost felt welcome. It had been a week since we’d come back from Obscura, since Maelin Lockspire hit the ground and her magic fizzled out underfoot. We should’ve been proud of the stillness. Of walking through pines without second-guessing every shadow. Ember Hills was quiet. We’d earned it. And yet I still found my fingers curling into fists like they’d forgotten how to let go of swords. Part of me hadn’t left that field. Ronan didn’t bring it up much. He had to. He didn’t have war on his arm like I did. But we both had it. He leaned across the path towards me, sleeves rolled up, and stacking wood for the night’s fire. His breath came out in clouds in front of him, hair bound back into the sloppiest knot imaginable. I still couldn’t look at him for too long without forgetting how to talk. Some days, I thought Ember Hills wasn’t big enough for how much I

The air smelled like pine and woodsmoke as I knelt to hammer another lantern into the ground. My fingers were numb, but thankfully, my heart wasn’t frozen. Ember Hills was lit up now, glowing gently along the paths. A half-circle of lanterns flickered near the edge of the main square. Charms twined around each pole, protecting anything underneath with Elias and Kellan’s favorite runes. Magic and mischief braided together here, holding us together, and it felt… Home. Feels like Home. Like we’d finally made it. Started actually to rebuild, not just survive. Lyra zoomed past me, her red mittens flying and tiny bits of enchanted snow floating behind her. “Did you see that one, Cael?” she laughed. “That one looked like a deer!” “I’ll bet it looked more like a goat,” I called after her, grinning. She poked her tongue out at me and tossed another scoop of frost-charmed snow into the air. I watched her race over to Mother, who was supervising wreath placement as if she were winning a

The knock came after dawn. I was halfway through pulverizing dried fennel when the castle’s ward pulse flickered, like someone sucking in air against a sealed door. It wasn’t much, but I felt it in my fingers, through the stones of the keep. Old wards did that. Dragged on your bones like a chain. And I’d personally rewritten these after the war. I scrubbed my hands on my robes and ran down the stairs, barrel-chested through the great hall to the outer courtyard. Barefoot. She was waiting by herself out front, snow dusting her cloak and curling up around her boots. Gloved fingers curled tight on the strap of an old leather satchel tossed over her shoulder. Long auburn hair, bleached white at the ends. Her lips quivered just so, enough to break me. “Hey, Elias.” My throat clenched. I hadn’t heard her say my name like that since before I’d cut my first spell. “Mom.” She took a step forward, and I didn’t hesitate. I braced myself, hands on her shoulders. When her arms came down