Page 27

If my theory was right– and Great Goddess help us, I really did not want to be right– the explosion hadn't been a disaster Keevandrie simply exploited. Somebody had designed a path: the rig, the Wards, the Hellmark, and ultimately, his fall into Hell.

And Knox MacAllen had been standing at the end of it like the prize they intended to claim.

Knox finally looked up, and the emptiness in his eyes scared me more than fire ever could. “What did I miss?” His voice was low, clipped, and terrifyingly controlled. “How long were they watching me? How did Keevandrie know I was undercover? How did she know I was a Dragon Guardsman?”

Guy’s hand flashed across the table and clamped down on Knox’s shoulder. “Don’t.”

Knox’s eyes cut to him. “Don’t what?”

“Turn their plan into your failure.” Guy’s voice was quiet, which only made it hit harder. “You didn’t miss anything, Knox. You were targeted.”

For a second, Knox looked like he absolutely hated that his brother could still read him after a century. Then he looked like he might be relieved.

Bernie tapped one careful finger beside the sketch. “We need to test Maisie’s theory, but we are not ripping at that mark with Necromancy again. I enjoy keeping all my fingers attached.”

Her emerald eyes shifted to me. “You said you can expose it.”

“Yep.”

“Can you interfere with it?”

I stared at her. “That sounds suspiciously like one of those questions people ask right before something explodes.”

Bernie nodded. “Probably.”

“Excellent. I’m in.”

Knox’s answer cracked through the kitchen. “No.”

I didn’t even look at him. “Nobody asked you, Dead Guy.”

The temperature in the room dropped about twelve degrees. Knox leaned forward, all protective Dragon Guardsman and stubborn Texas Ranger. “You don’t know what that thing can do.”

“Neither do you,” I shot back. “That’s literally why we’re testing it.”

He opened his mouth. I pointed at him. “And before you start, I am not sticking my Alicorn horn into the electrical socket. We’re looking.”

Knox’s gaze flicked to my forehead. “You don’t currently have a horn. Are you going to?”

Inside my head, Neysa made a strangled sound somewhere between outrage and hysterical laughter. I ignored her because that was healthier for everyone involved. “Not the point, and I don’t know yet.”

Carefully, I opened my Alicorn Sight. I did not Shift. No horn. No wings. No dramatic reveal of pastel nonsense. Just Sight, thin and precise, sliding over the black and red lattice of the Hellmark until the ugly thing sharpened at the edge of my vision.

Then I fed the smallest thread of my own Magic through my fingertips. It shimmered in a narrow ribbon of warm earthen gold and cool sky-blue light, iridescent but controlled. Tactical. Highly respectable.

Knox watched the light curl around my fingers. “That’s sparkly.”

My head snapped up. “Tactical sparkle.”

His mouth twitched. “Right. My mistake.”

The second my Magic brushed the Hellmark's outer frequency, the mark did not crack. It did not weaken. It did not scream or burn or dissolve under the righteous power of Unicorn-adjacent justice.

It lost focus.

Knox sucked in a breath so sharp it sounded painful. His hand clenched around the table edge. For three impossible seconds, the tether went slack.

Nothing pulled. Nothing watched. Nothing waited on the other end of that black and red thread.