Page 36 of Roaring Spell

We descend.

The cellar is smaller than expected. Stone walls, low ceiling, air thick with the residue of accumulated magic.

And in the center⁠—

A crystalline device the size of a human head. Faceted surfaces catch what little light filters down, refracting sick rainbows across the walls. Inside, visible through the translucent structure, a web of pulsing energy that draws ambient magic toward it like a whirlpool.

“Gods.” The whisper escapes. “It’s beautiful.”

“It’s a weapon.” Torin moves between me and the device. “Don’t get closer.”

“I wasn’t⁠—”

“Your magic is.” He glances back. “I can see it reaching. Whatever that thing does, it wants what you have.”

He’s right. My power is straining toward the crystal like a magnet to iron.

“It’s draining magic into... somewhere.” I force focus. “The crystal’s a collector. But the power goes somewhere eventually.”

“The Warding Line.” Torin’s voice flattens with realization. “If someone placed these throughout town, systematically draining ambient magic...”

“They could collapse the protections entirely.”

“We need to report this.” He pulls out his phone. “Caius needs to know.”

“Obviously.” I step toward the device despite his warning. “But⁠—”

I reach out. Not consciously—my hand moves before my brain can stop it.

Torin catches my wrist. Pulls it back. Holds it.

“Don’t.” Quiet but intense. “We don’t know what contact would do.”

“I just wanted to⁠—”

“I know.” He doesn’t release my hand. “Some curiosities aren’t worth the risk.”

We stand there, hands clasped, the siphon humming behind him.

“Thank you.” The words come out raw. “For believing me.”

He tilts his head. “Why wouldn’t I believe you?”

The siphon hums. The cellar presses close. And Torin holds my hand in the darkness like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“We should go.” I finally break contact. “Report this. Let the experts handle it.”

“You are an expert.” He leads the way toward the stairs. “You found this. Identified what it was.”

Caius Sternwolf sits at the head of the Stone Circle.

Anouk stands beside Caius, having arrived minutes after our call. She’s already examined the evidence, already forming theories, already three steps ahead of the conversation we’re about to have.

“A siphon.” Caius’s voice is flat. “Hidden in the merchant district. Active for how long?”

“Impossible to determine without analysis.” Anouk keeps her voice level. “But based on power accumulation, at least several weeks. Possibly months.”

“Months.” Caius turns to me. “And you found it by mapping your episodes?”