“Silver Unit is solely for new recruits. Those who have recently joined the order but have yet to perform the Reaper’s Kiss.” Wren didn’t miss the slight tic in Quinn’s jaw at the mention of the infamous shadow magic spell.
“You take the eastern tunnel to get to our unit,” Quinn added, pointing up ahead. “The other units are scattered throughout the encampment. You take the northern tunnel to get to Emerald. The southern for Sapphire. And the western tunnel is for Onyx.”
“Though it’s best to stay clear of the other units,” Arthur muttered.
Wren snapped her gaze toward him. “Why?”
“Well…” Arthur peered at Quinn, who lacerated him with a frustrated glare. “The other Units are just…different. They’ve succumbed to the shadows. They’re a bit…well…how do I put this delicately…”
“They won’t hesitate to rip your throat out if you look at them the wrong way,” Quinn interjected curtly. “They won’t give a damn that you’re the prophesized catalyst of destruction. Not while you’re still…you. Either way, they know you’ll eventually heal. So they can carve you open and tear your guts out without worrying about repercussions.”
Wren blanched. “But…we feel pain.”
Arthur patted Wren on the shoulder, guiding her forward. “That’s what makes it so fun.”
They stepped into the tunnel and Wren followed suit. Flickering torchlight dappled thin slivers of shadows upon the cave walls, illuminating the dimly lit tunnel. A few other Demiens hurried past, most keeping to themselves, though a few greeted Quinn and Arthur with a casual salute.
As the tunnel came to an end, they entered another sprawling cavern carved into the base of the mountain ridge. Dozens of tents stretched out before them, each adorned with a billowing flag marked with the Silver Unit insignia. Despite the absence of wind, the flags rippled as though caught within a breeze—enchanted, no doubt. Fire pits and various campsites dotted the cavern, lanterns suspended in the air, hovering just over their heads.
“Fucking hell,” a voice echoed. Wren turned to find the source—a boy sitting on top of a wooden barrel, legs spread, toothpick tucked between his lips. As his eyes landed on Wren, his jaw went slack and the toothpick tumbled out of his mouth and fell to the ground. “The catalyst…in the flesh.”
As the words left his lips, the other Demiens milling about the cavern came to a halt, eyes falling upon Wren, taking her in with unabashed curiosity. A flurry of whispers rose around her, crescendoing, until all Wren could hear was the grating sound of her own name.
Quinn cursed under her breath, shooting the boy with the toothpick a glare. “Thanks a lot, Jas.”
The boy, Jas, chuckled and raised his hands in feigned innocence.
Quinn tightened her grip on Wren, yanking her forward. Arthur scrambled to keep up. “Come on, catalyst. Let’s get you out of here.”
“Where are we going?” Wren whispered, glancing over her shoulder.
“I don’t know,” Quinn grumbled. “Your tent, I guess. Edith wants you staying with us for the next couple of days, until Equinox. Lord knows why she’d think it’s a good idea—”
“Wait—what?” Wren struggled to keep up with Quinn, nearly tripping over her own boots. “I’m staying here? In Silver Unit?”
Quinn bit the inside of her cheek. “Afraid so.”
Arthur shot Quinn a wary look. “We should hurry. I think we’re about to be—” But Arthur’s words were drowned out as a blaring alarm rang throughout the cavern. Wren winced, plugging her ears at the shrill sound.
Thankfully, it didn’t last long. A few seconds later, the alarm came to an abrupt stop.
“What the hell was that?” Wren asked, rubbing her ears. She noticed that the Demiens nearby had begun to pour out of their tents, brandishing their weapons as they migrated toward the other side of the cave.
“You have to be kidding me…” muttered Quinn, pinchingthe bridge of her nose. “Edith cannot truly expect us to bringheralong.” She motioned to Wren with an exasperated wave of her hand.
“What do you mean?” Wren asked, though nobody seemed to hear her. “Bring me where?”
Arthur chuckled. “You have to give Edith credit…she’s got impeccable timing.”
“You think this isfunny?” Quinn said, seething. “Shall I remind you who we’re up against this round? And whose fault it is?”
Wren sighed. “Can someone please—”
“I told you that you should have come to the bonfire with me,” Arthur interjected, pointing an accusatory finger at Quinn’s chest. “Youwere the one who stayed back! Honestly, you should know by now that I cannot be trusted around Onyx recruits after I’ve had three glasses of wine!”
Quinn groaned, digging her hands into her hair. “Oh my God. You are aliteralchild!”
And that was all it took for Wren to finally snap.
