Adrian's cloak clung to his skin, damp from the city's evening mist, as he crouched in the old cathedral's rafters. The unsigned note—Kael meets allies tomorrow, old cathedral. End him, or we end you—burned in his memory, its ashes long gone but its threat alive. The vault's parchment, now with Elara, was proof of House Draven's treachery, but Lord Kael's freedom mocked Adrian's progress. Tonight, he'd spy for Princess Eryn, but his own justice drove him harder.
Lira and Toren hid nearby, tucked behind crumbling pews. Lira's eyes glinted with focus, her scarf tight against the chill. Toren's limp was better, but his guilt lingered in his tense silence. They were under Academy guard watch, but Adrian had slipped them out, his copper disc—etched with a disruption rune—disabling their trackers. Eryn's deal was a leash, but he'd cut it if he had to.
The cathedral was a ruin, its stained glass shattered, moonlight pooling on the cracked floor. Adrian's heart thudded as voices echoed below. Kael entered, his oily voice unmistakable, flanked by two cloaked figures—Draven loyalists, their hands sparking with magic. "The boy's a problem," Kael said. "Valorian blood makes him bold. End him before the king acts."
Adrian's blood ran cold. They knew his lineage, his every move. His fingers tightened on the disc, its rune his only edge. Lira signaled from below, her gesture urgent: Wait.
A third figure emerged—Professor Elara. Adrian's breath caught. Was she a traitor? Her voice was sharp, not oily. "Kael, your plots are unraveling. The king's reviewing evidence. Stop this, or you're finished."
Kael laughed, a venomous sound. "You're out of your depth, Elara. The Dravens own the court. Corveth's proof will vanish, like his family."
Adrian's rage flared, but Elara's presence was a puzzle. Ally or foe? He couldn't wait to find out. He flicked the disc, its rune pulsing to dim Kael's allies' magic. "Now!" he hissed, dropping from the rafters.
Lira and Toren sprang up, Lira hurling a stolen crystal that flared, blinding the loyalists. Toren tackled one, his limp forgotten in adrenaline. Adrian lunged at Kael, who dodged, a dagger flashing in his hand. "Valorian brat," Kael snarled, slashing.
Adrian ducked, the blade grazing his shoulder. Pain seared, but he grabbed Kael's wrist, twisting until the dagger clattered free. Elara shouted, "Guards!"—and palace soldiers flooded in, not Draven thugs. She'd planned this.
Kael's allies were pinned, but he slipped free, vanishing into a side chapel. Adrian gave chase, ignoring Lira's cry to stop. The chapel was dark, Kael's footsteps fading. Adrian's disc glowed faintly, revealing a hidden trapdoor. Kael was gone, but a scrap of parchment lay on the floor—a Draven cipher, like the coded letter.
He pocketed it, chest heaving. Back in the nave, guards bound the loyalists. Elara's eyes met Adrian's, her voice low. "Reckless, but effective. Kael's exposed, but he's slippery. You've bought time."
"You set this up," Adrian said, shoulder throbbing. "Why not tell me?"
"You're not my pawn," Elara snapped. "You're Eryn's. Prove your worth, or the dungeon waits."
Lira and Toren joined him, Lira's face pale. "You're bleeding," she said, pressing her scarf to his wound. "That was stupid."
"Had to be," Adrian said, wincing. Toren handed him the crystal, its light spent. "Nice throw," Adrian added, a grudging nod.
Toren's eyes softened. "Trying to make it right."
Back at the Academy, under stricter guard, Adrian studied the new cipher in the workshop's dim light. It hinted at a Draven safehouse, a lead to Kael. Lira watched, her voice soft. "Eryn's using you. If Kael escapes, you're the scapegoat."
"I know," Adrian said, voice raw. "But the truth's bigger than me. This cipher—it's another piece. We're close."
Toren leaned in, his guilt less heavy. "We hit the safehouse. Together."
Adrian nodded, the alliance fragile but real. Eryn's leash, Elara's gamble, Kael's escape—they were threads in a tightening noose. The Dravens thought they'd won five years ago, but Adrian was their reckoning. He'd chase Kael, crack the cipher, and burn their lies to ash—or die trying.