Shadows Entwined (Shadows Descent #3)

20. Violet

20

VIOLET

There’s something poetic about the snow, how it falls so softly while covering evidence of such violence inside. The bodies of our former classmates and professors lie scattered through MistHallow’s halls and won’t be getting up again. Caine’s and Flint’s magick is still creating snow and ice above us, and I shiver, but it’s not from the cold. My hands shake slightly, but I clench them into fists. There is no time for guilt. No time for second thoughts. They made their choice when they betrayed us.

“Violet?” Thorne’s voice is gentle.

“I’m fine,” I lie, opening my eyes, straightening my shoulders and letting Morgan’s essence drift over me. I need it right now to get me through the next second, the next minute, the next hour. “We need to deal with the Order outside.”

Caine’s cane taps against the stone floor, leaving delicate frost patterns in its wake. Each tap echoes through the entrance hall like a heartbeat. “We can take a breather. They can’t get in, thanks to Dragon Boy here.” He shoots Flint an admiring look that carries more weight than his casual tone suggests. “But they’re not exactly queuing up to leave either.”

Flint is still slumped against the wall, his skin almost grey with exhaustion. “Give me a minute,” he pants, scales flickering across his skin as he struggles to maintain control. “Just need to catch my breath.”

“What did you do?” I ask, crouching down beside him. His skin burns hot, which is strange when he is usually as cold as I am.

He waves his hand to Caine, who takes over the explanation about an ancient Dragon crystal, something about founding members and recharges. I nod, only half listening as I focus on Flint to make sure he doesn’t pass out on me.

“So our boy did good,” Caine finishes.

I smile and cup Flint’s face as he returns it weakly. “Take all the time you need. We’re not going anywhere without you.”

His hand finds mine, squeezing gently. The gesture steadies me more than I’d like to admit. Despite everything, we’re still together. Still a team. Still whole.

Not knowing if I even can help him, I try to infuse my hand with some of my magick to boost him. He grunts and closes his eyes, breathing through it as my purple magick seeps into his bones.

“Thanks,” he murmurs, “but save some for yourself.”

“Too much?” I giggle. “I’m not sure how to do this properly.”

“Just enough,” he says, but pulls his hand out of mine. His eyes are bright, and the colour is back in his face.

“You good?” Thorne asks, holding a hand out to help him up.

Flint slaps his hand into Thorne’s and rises fluidly with a swift nod.

“Let’s do this then,” I say, straightening up and throwing my shoulders back. “They want Morgan’s power? Let’s see how well they can handle it.”

The massive doors swing open at my command, winter air rushing in to meet us. Snow swirls around our feet as we step outside, and I smile at what’s coming. My power sizzles beneath my skin, eager to be unleashed. Through the ancient wards, their forms look slightly distorted, like looking through frosted glass, but I can count at least forty of them. Their dark robes billow in the icy wind, and their magick hisses against the barriers like lightning against the glass. They look less like the sophisticated organisation they claim to be and more like what they really are - fanatics desperate to destroy what they don’t understand.

“Well,” I call out, letting purple lightning dance between my fingers. “Isn’t this cosy?”

A figure steps forward. Tall and robed in black like the others, he is trimmed with silver, which I guess marks him as their leader. His face is hidden in shadow, but when he speaks, his voice drips with condescension and absolute certainty.

“Children playing at power,” he says, spreading his arms wide as if to embrace us. “Step aside. This can end peacefully if you surrender the academy. We have no wish to harm students.”

Caine snorts beside me, frost spreading from where his cane touches the ground. “Peaceful? Like how you peacefully infiltrated our school? Peacefully turned our own people against us? Peacefully tried to wipe us out?”

“Those who joined us saw the truth,” the man replies. “The supernatural world needs order and control. Structure. You’re too young to understand the necessity of what we do.”

“No,” I say, as purple light surrounds me like an aura. “What you need is a lesson in pain.”

But something about this is concerning. They want us to surrender MistHallow. Why? This isn’t just about me but about the academy. Not that it really matters. They’re not going to last long enough to get either.

“On three,” I murmur, knowing what we have to do.

We strike as one, each of us unleashing our full power without restraint. I hope it will sail through the wards and not ricochet back onto us. Luckily, it works.

Caine moves his cane, scribing elegant arcs through the air as ice erupts from the ground. The first three Order members barely have time to scream before they’re impaled on crystalline spikes. Their blood freezes the instant it hits the ground, turning the ice a beautiful, terrible crimson. An Order member tries to raise a shield, but Caine’s ice simply flows around it, reforming behind the barrier before piercing the man’s throat. Thorne’s shadows launch forward like a tide of darkness, writhing and hungry. They wrap around throats and limbs, crushing and constricting. The screams are muffled but satisfying, a symphony of terror that makes his eyes gleam. The shadows move like living things, seeking out their prey with terrifying intelligence. He’s beautiful in his fury, darkness incarnate.

Flint’s fire and snow combine in a catastrophic display that turns Order members to steam where they stand. His Dragon nature fully manifests, scales gleaming in the moonlight as he roars. The sound shakes the foundations of MistHallow. The vortex of elemental power that surrounds him is mesmerising. Fire and ice shouldn’t work together, shouldn’t coexist, but Flint makes them dance to his will. Order members scream as they’re caught between extremes, their bodies unable to handle the rapid temperature changes.

And I let go completely.

Purple lightning explodes from my hands, amplified by Morgan’s essence, by my rage, by everything they’ve done to us. It rips through the wards and tears into their ranks, leaving nothing but ash in its wake. Their shields might as well be paper for all the good they do against power born of sacrifice and love and absolute fury.

“Still think we’re just children?” I ask, watching their leader’s eyes widen in fear as his followers fall. “Still think we need your control, your structure? Still want our home?”

He tries to rally his remaining forces, barking orders that are lost in the chaos of battle.

The snow falls harder now, turned purple by the lightning that arcs continuously from sky to ground. Each bolt carries enough power to vaporise stone, yet it flows through me like water, natural as breathing. Morgan’s essence turns my fury into focused destruction.

“This ends now,” I declare, my voice carrying over the sounds of battle. “No more threats. No more manipulation. No more Order of the Shadows Descent.”

The leader raises his hands, attempting some final, desperate spell to break the wards, but they are impenetrable from his side. This is some seriously arcane shit.

Dark energy gathers around him, and for a moment, I feel the weight of centuries of forbidden knowledge. But I’m done playing games. Power blasts through me, raw and unstoppable. The lightning strikes him directly, and for a moment, his skeleton is visible through his flesh before he crumbles to ash.

The remaining Order members try to flee, but there’s nowhere to go. Ice and shadow, fire and lightning. We show no mercy.

When it’s over, the snow is stained with ash and blood. The bodies of those who dared threaten MistHallow lie scattered, a warning to any who might follow.

“That was violent,” Caine comments.

“But necessary,” Thorne adds, his shadows gradually settling around him like a cloak. There’s no regret in his voice, only grim satisfaction.

Flint grins. “Think they got the message?”

I look at the devastation we’ve wrought, feeling no regret. The snow is already beginning to cover our handiwork, nature reclaiming what we’ve destroyed. “If they didn’t, there’s no one left to carry a warning anyway.”

“And yet this is not the end,” Blackthorn warns us.

We turn to face him and his grim declaration. “Couldn’t even let us have a minute to celebrate?” I ask archly.

In front of us, MistHallow stands strong. It looks different, somehow. Whatever those ancient wards do, MistHallow is happy to have them recharged.

“We’ve protected our home, dealt with traitors both inside and out, and shown anyone who might follow exactly what happens to those who threaten what’s ours,” Thorne says.

“And while that is a wondrous thing, Mr Thorne. The Order will rise again. Do you think no one has ever destroyed them before?”

“Well, way to shit on our show, Professor,” I say with a sarcastic smile.

He chuckles. “You did well. All of you. But don’t be arrogant about your victory. It comes with a cost, and it is not the end. It never is.” He heaves a sigh and turns around to walk back inside, leaving us silent and thoughtful of his words.

The price of this victory was high. Innocence lost, blood spilt, lives were taken. But I know it was worth it. Now, all that’s left is to get through the Convergence, and then hopefully, if we survive that, we can sleep for a week.

My legs suddenly feel like lead, the adrenaline wearing off and leaving bone-deep exhaustion in its wake.

“Come on,” Flint says, wrapping his arm around me. “Let’s get inside before we all freeze.”

“My room,” I decide as we step back inside. None of us want to be alone tonight, and my room has become our unofficial gathering place anyway. “I think we all need...”

“Sleep for about a year?” Flint suggests, managing a weak smile.

“That,” I agree, “and each other.”

No one argues. We stumble into my room, barely managing to kick off boots and shed outer layers before collapsing on the bed in a heap. I’m asleep before my head hits the pillow.