Katie.

I woke up to the sound of Adrien moving around the dorm like a caffeinated ghost—quiet, quick, but definitely up to something dramatic.

I groaned into my pillow. "Tell me we're not actually doing this."

"We are," she said. Calm. Too calm for five in the morning and a pending possibly fatal portkey trip.

I dragged myself upright and blinked around the room. The window was still dark. The fire had burned down to glowing embers. Adrien had already laced her boots and was zipping up her bag with the kind of purpose that screamed pre-battle montage.

"How are you this awake?" I croaked, rubbing sleep from my eyes. "Did you sleep at all?"

She didn't answer right away. Just muttered something about extra rune chalk and containment charms while stuffing what looked like the cursed book into a cloth wrap. I rolled out of bed, feet hitting the cold floor with a curse.

"I swear if we die before breakfast, I'm haunting someone," I mumbled, grabbing my wand.

"Not it," came Maddie's voice from the opposite bed, her face still buried in her pillow.

"I didn't even know it was morning," Sage groaned from her tangled mess of blankets. "My soul isn't ready for this."

"I'm not sure my organs are awake," I added, yawning.

As I started throwing on my clothes, I noticed Adrien frowning at her desk.

"My letter," she said suddenly. "Where is it? The one to Fred."

I froze mid-sock.

"The one on your desk?" I asked casually.

Her eyes narrowed. "Yes?"

"Oh. Right. We, uh—sent it."

Adrien blinked. "You what?"

"You were gonna forget it!" I defended, throwing up a hand. "Maddie, Sage and I figured it was better if he got it before we skipped town via cursed object."

"I was going to send it."

"You weren't. You stared at it for three days like it was about to hex you."

"Because it was emotional!"

"And now it's emotionally en route to your fiancé. You're welcome."

She sighed. Hard. But didn't argue.

Maddie sat up and pointed at Adrien. "We saved you from your own romantic procrastination."

"Barely," Sage added, still upside-down with a pillow over her face. "You're lucky we didn't read it out loud first."

Adrien rolled her eyes but didn't say anything. Just zipped up her bag with extra force and muttered something that definitely sounded like, "traitors."

We all started getting dressed in silence—braiding hair, checking packs, tugging on combat boots. It wasn't quiet because we didn't have things to say.

It was quiet because we all knew.

This wasn't a Hogsmeade prank. It wasn't sneaking into the library after hours or swapping robes for a ball. This was something bigger. Something deeper.

We were going somewhere that might not let us come back.

And we were going anyway.

Because if we didn't— No one else would.

The grass was still damp with frost as we reached the center of the Quidditch Pitch, the world cloaked in lavender-blue twilight. Our breaths came in clouds, boots crunching against the frozen ground like the castle was trying to hold us in place one last time.

Adrien had the portkey in her arms. She pulled it out of the wrap with care—the gauntlet. As we scanned over the humming artifact, we noticed that Cassian had carved runic stabilizers into the rim himself.

They looked like teeth.

She set it down in the middle of our little circle.

Cassian, standing just behind her, folded his arms. "It's calibrated to drop you just outside the western ruins of Beauxbatons. Activation in thirty seconds."

"Translation," Sage said, cracking her knuckles. "Don't trip and die."

"Or land in a haunted wine cellar," Maddie added. "Again."

"Not my fault French ghosts are dramatic," Adrien muttered, adjusting her shirt.

Rowan turned toward me, and suddenly the rest of the world faded. He looked at me like he was memorizing. Like this wasn't just a goodbye—it was a just in case.

"You'll be careful," he said, with an edge.

I took a breath. "I'll be smarter than careful. I'll come back."

"You better." His voice cracked slightly.

I reached up, brushing his cheek. "I love you."

His jaw tightened. "I love you too."

Sage sighed loudly. "Oh, fantastic. Now I'm crying."

Adrien rolled her eyes. "You're not crying."

"I could be crying," Sage huffed. "Don't assume things."

Maddie nudged Cassian. "At least we're not that dramatic."

Cassian raised an eyebrow. "Says the girl who cried over me slicing my hand open on a cursed book spine."

"That was one time," Maddie said, glaring, cheeks pink.

Cassian smirked. "And you told me if I died, you'd hex me back to life just to kill me again for being stupid."

"I meant that romantically."

"You two are gross," Sage muttered. "Adrien, flirt with me."

Adrien snorted. "You've seen me nearly incinerate two boys this year. You sure you wanna risk it?"

"I have trauma, a wand, and a questionable thing for angry women," Sage said proudly. "You're checking all the boxes."

"Please stop," I said, barely holding in a laugh. "The twins will cry if they find out."

"George would riot," Maddie said, smirking. "Fred would write a breakup ballad and accidentally publish it."

"You're all insane," I muttered.

Cassian stepped back, eyes scanning each of us. "It's ready. You've got five seconds."

Adrien picked it up off the grass and held it out. We reached for it together—me, Maddie, Sage, and Adrien—four hands on the cold rim.

One breath. One look.

And then— The world snapped.

We were gone.

___

They always wander back, eventually.

The Portkey landed like a punch to the ribs.

One second I was gripping Adrien's wrist with Maddie's elbow in my side and Sage shrieking about losing her spleen—

—and the next, we were slammed into wet grass and silence.

"Oh my God," Maddie groaned. "Did we just get yeeted through trauma?"

"What is that word?" Adrien asked, glaring over at her and rubbing her head. "Yeeted..."

"I think I left my liver somewhere over the Pyrenees," Sage wheezed beside her.

I opened one eye.

The air was thick with fog. The sky was barely awake, tinted lavender and silver behind swirling clouds. But I'd know those gates anywhere.

Beauxbatons.

We'd landed just past the old stone wall that bordered the western edge of the school—The Forbidden Wing. Even when we were students here, it had been sealed off. Unused. Creepy as hell—translation, Adrien's favorite part of the castle.

Now?

It looked like a gothic horror film ate itself and vomited up a postcard.

The courtyard was shattered. The cobblestones cracked and overgrown with gnarled vines that looked more like veins.

And the roses, the famous, enchanted Beauxbatons roses—once pristine and pastel pink—were blackened and rotted, their petals curling like burnt paper.

I rose to my feet, knees stiff, boots soaked through, and muttered, "Okay. So... not the warmest welcome."

Adrien brushed mud off her sleeve, jaw tight, eyes scanning the archway like it might open its mouth and swallow us. "It feels different."

"It feels cursed," Sage said, squinting into the distance. "And like I need a tetanus shot."

"Oh," Maddie drawled, spinning in a slow circle. "Look at us. Just four scandalously dressed girls breaking into the rotted shell of the forbidden part of our old school. It's practically a musical."

"Can't wait for the tap number," I muttered.

My hand found Adrien's arm—steady, grounding. But the second I touched her, I felt it.

The hum.

Low. Cold. Wrong.

Her runes were glowing again—just faintly, like the light was trying to hide.

"You okay?" I asked.

"Peachy," she said, but her voice was too flat.

I didn't push. Not yet.

Cassian's warning echoed in the back of my skull: "She's carrying old magic. If she keeps pushing like this, it's going to tear straight through her."

And something deeper than that. Words no one had dared repeat out loud.

"Would you burn your sister for the truth?"

I swallowed hard.

"Alright, well," Sage said, hands on her hips, "we were transferred, Adrien and Katie were forcibly removed after a near-death experience, and I may have left a hexed bath bomb in the Prefects' quarters."

"You definitely did," Maddie said. "It made them all speak in riddles for a week."

"Still worth it," Sage shrugged. "But I'm just saying—maybe we avoid the front door this time."

I snorted. "Yeah, well, I don't think they're throwing a welcome back brunch."

Adrien finally spoke. Quiet. Focused.

"We're not going through the front door...there's a perfectly gaping hole down there..." She gestured down the gated wall where part of the structure was crumbled. "Besides, I believe the entrance to the Labyrinth is underground, if the structure's intact, it'll be through the greenhouse ruins."

"You think Zoe will be there?" Maddie asked.

"She said she'd meet us if we made it this far," Adrien said.

"She did?" I arched my eyebrow.

"I oweled her when we put this plan together, in an..." She hesitated, and tensed. "...old code we made up forever ago."

"If we made it," Sage muttered, mimicking the tone. "So comforting. Really glad we're trusting the girl who once got us caught sneaking firewhiskey in via a bewitched baguette."

"She brought snacks," I said.

"She brought detention," Sage countered.

"We're alive, aren't we?"

"For now."

"She was also a real bitch for a while there," Maddie added, glaring over the spooky landscape. "So maybe we keep our wits about?"

The mist shifted, curling tighter around our ankles like smoke.

And somewhere beneath our feet, I felt it too.

Magic.

Old and waiting.

The kind that wasn't supposed to survive.

We all turned to the ruins. To the Labyrinth of Bones, beneath us—somewhere.

And walked forward—toward the place we swore we'd never return.

"Don't look for me. I'll be closer than that."

We weren't supposed to be this deep.

The second we slipped into the west wing—what was left of it—every instinct I had screamed bad idea, bad idea, bad idea on a loop in my head like some cursed Hogwarts poltergeist whispering from my shoulder.

"Are we lost yet?" Sage whispered, toeing a cracked tile.

"We're not lost," Adrien hissed back.

"Then why does this hallway look like the lovechild of Azkaban and a serial killer's wine cellar?"

"Because this is where dreams come to die," Maddie said, unhelpful and chipper.

The corridor groaned above us as a wind gust pushed through the broken stained glass. Shadows warped on the walls—elongated, jittery. The mist from outside hadn't stayed outside. It was seeping in around the corners, pooling in our footsteps.

We passed what used to be Madame Léger's portrait—and where her eyes used to be, only scorched canvas and claw marks remained.

Nope. Not creepy at all.

"Okay," I muttered, ducking low under a collapsed archway. "Remind me again why we didn't go with a cover story that involved wine, romance, and a magical retreat in Corsica?"

"Because you voted for 'covert cursed labyrinth raid,' remember?" Maddie said, brushing ash off her shoulder like it was lint.

"God, I'm an idiot," I muttered.

"You're our idiot," Adrien said distractedly, pausing at a bend in the corridor.

Then she froze.

I heard it too—soft footsteps. Not ours. Not echoing right.

"Shit," Sage whispered.

"Back," Adrien said sharply, pulling me behind the remains of a collapsed bookcase.

We ducked, flattened, Maddie stifled a sneeze against her cloak (barely), and two shadowy figures passed just meters ahead—sentries. Still patrolling. Still keeping watch.

They didn't see us.

But one paused. Turned.

I held my breath so long I saw stars.

Then—just as he stepped forward, hand twitching toward his wand—

A whisper cut through the silence. "This way."

We spun to find Zoe leaning against the wall behind us, one brow raised, cloak soaked through, wand already drawn.

"Move. Now."

None of us questioned it.

We followed—sprinting down what had once been the Conservatory wing, now reduced to rubble and brambles and shards of enchanted glass. Zoe didn't speak again until we reached a rusted door buried beneath ivy and stone.

She flicked her wand. The wall cracked. Shifted. Revealed a stairwell so dark it looked like it might unmake you if you blinked too long.

"You're lucky I owe you one," she said finally, not looking at me.

I bristled. "Nice to see you too."

"You were supposed to stay gone." She glanced at Adrien. "But clearly that wasn't the case..."

Adrien's runes were glowing again—soft but visible. Like they were being pulled forward by something we couldn't see.

Zoe stared at her. Something shifted in her face. Something like... fear.

"You're walking toward something you won't walk back from," she muttered.

And then—before any of us could speak—she grabbed Adrien by the hand, spun her sharply around and kissed her.

Hard.

I blinked.

Maddie blinked.

Sage actually let out a soft "holy shit."

When Zoe pulled away, her voice was low and bitter: "Just in case you don't come back."

Adrien stood there, stunned.

Zoe didn't wait.

She turned, descended the stairs without another word.

The shadows swallowed her up.

I exhaled slowly. "So... that happened."

"She—she kissed me," Adrien said, still blinking.

"She did," Sage nodded. "And if the Weasley twins ever find out, there will be an interrogation...or blood."

"I'm telling George," Maddie said.

"Tell him after we survive the death maze," I said. "I am not dying with gossip still on the table."

We stepped into the stairwell. The cold bit instantly.

And that feeling returned.

The pressure. Like eyes we couldn't see were watching.

"It feels like he's inside the walls," Maddie whispered, hugging her arms.

"He?" Sage whispered, allowing her fingers to trace over the rough textured walls.

"He is," Adrien said, her voice low. "That's what the letter meant."

We didn't ask which one.

We already knew.

Don't look for me. I'll be closer than that.

We descended in silence. The door closed behind us.

And Beauxbatons began to breathe.

"Ask yourself if you're willing to open the door. And what will crawl out when you do."

You'd think a place called The Labyrinth of Bones would come with, I don't know... a warning sign.

Maybe a flaming skull.

Maybe a plaque that says abandon all hope ye who enter this nightmare.

Instead?

It looked like a garden cellar. A crumbling stone arch choked in dead ivy.

No bones.

No monsters.

Just a door. Covered in old runes.

"Wow," Sage muttered behind me. "Really selling the vacation package here."

"Ten out of ten," Maddie added. "Truly stunning. Smells like rotting mulch and trauma."

Adrien didn't say anything. She was already walking forward.

The runes on the door shimmered faintly, crawling under the surface like they were... waking up.

"Please don't touch that yet," I muttered.

Adrien raised a brow over her shoulder. "Why? Think it's cursed?"

"Of course I think it's cursed," I hissed. "Everything's cursed. We're cursed. You're glowing like a damned Horcrux."

"You say that like it's new," Sage pointed out. "She's been doing that since September."

Adrien didn't flinch. Just exhaled slowly—and reached out.

The second her palm brushed the center of the stone, the runes exploded with light.

Not bright. Not blinding.

Hungry.

It crawled up her wrist in a perfect mirror of the marks already etched into her skin. Runes ignited, pulsing, shifting—like the door didn't just recognize her.

It was welcoming her.

The stone peeled open with a sound like bones grinding underwater.

We all stood still.

"Yeah," Maddie whispered. "Not terrifying at all. Love that. Very welcoming. Ten out of ten. Would definitely die here."

Adrien stepped through first.

Because of course she did.

The rest of us followed—and the second my boot crossed the threshold, the air dropped twenty degrees. The magic here wasn't dormant.

It was breathing.

The Labyrinth wasn't a maze. Not yet.

It was a tunnel—smooth, dark, spiraling down into the earth.

Quiet.

Not the normal kind. Not empty silence.

This was listening silence.

Even our footsteps sounded muffled. Like the stones were swallowing the sound whole.

Sage sniffled. "So... not to alarm anyone," Her voice echoed quietly, "but I think the floor just whispered at me."

"It's your guilty conscience," Maddie replied. "Shouldn't have stolen those chocolates from McGonagall's drawer."

Adrien didn't react.

She was too far ahead now—moving like something was pulling her.

The glow on her arms got brighter with every step. Her fingers twitched. Her breathing changed.

"Adrien," I said, picking up pace and falling into step beside her.

She didn't look at me.

Just kept walking.

"You good?" I asked, more gently now.

She shook her head. "I don't know."

Her voice sounded like it wasn't all hers.

"But something in me... it knows this place. Like it remembers. Or like..." she trailed off, eyes flicking toward the far wall. "Like it's been waiting for me."

I swallowed. "That's a great thing to say in a haunted death maze. Super comforting."

She gave a small, humorless laugh—and it still didn't reach her eyes.

We stopped in front of another door. Runes again. No knob. Just script carved deep into the stone.

This time, Adrien didn't hesitate.

Her palm found the center. Her runes burned in response. The door peeled open like it was stretching its jaw.

And as the air shifted again—deep, low, ancient—I heard Adrien murmur:

"I opened the door."

My stomach dropped. And before I could stop myself, I whispered:

"You didn't ask what crawls out."

We didn't speak much after the last turn.

The walls narrowed—arched with root-veined stone, the magic in the air thick enough to chew through. It tasted old. Bitter. Like copper and stormwater. Every time Adrien touched the wall to steady herself, her runes lit up like flares under her skin—gold this time, not red.

Even the glow was wrong.

"You good?" I asked, voice low.

"Define good," she muttered, not looking at me.

Maddie snorted. "On a scale of one to 'I think my runes are trying to kill me,' where we at?"

Adrien gave her a weak glare. "Somewhere between dry heaving and divine intervention."

Sage looked back at us. "You guys suck at encouragement."

"You're welcome," I said.

But the truth? I was scared.

And the worst part was... I could feel the walls watching us. Listening. The further we went, the more it felt like the Labyrinth knew we were here. Like it had been waiting.

And it didn't want us to leave.

The corridor twisted into a steep descent—a final spiral that narrowed until the space barely fit all four of us shoulder to shoulder.

Then we found it.

The Central Chamber.

The air changed first—grew still, reverent. Dust floated like snow through amber light filtering down from a broken skylight above. At the center of the stone chamber was a fractured altar, carved directly into the floor. The resurrection circle etched around it had cracked through the middle like something had shattered it from inside.

My stomach turned.

The runes on Adrien's arms began to glow, gold bleeding into something brighter—blinding.

"Adrien—" I reached for her.

Too late.

She dropped to her knees with a gasp, clutching her hands to her chest.

"Shit—" Maddie darted forward.

"Don't touch her," I snapped. "Not yet."

The runes weren't burning her—they were responding to something. The altar. The air. The magic itself.

They knew her.

Claimed her.

On the far wall, scratched into the stone in what looked like old blood, were the words:

Would you choose fire again, Little Vexley?

I stepped back. My throat went tight. Because below that—barely visible, carved into the base of the altar itself—was one word.

Alice.

Not a grave. No bones. No body. Just her name.

Adrien's breathing slowed, shaky. "It's not hurting me," she whispered. "It's... recognizing me."

Sage knelt beside her, hands trembling. "It's calling to you."

I stared at the altar, then back at the resurrection circle.

"This wasn't her prison," I whispered.

Maddie's voice cracked. "It was her creation."

Sage looked around the room, voice barely audible.

"She built this."

I felt my knees buckle, hands curling into fists.

My mother hadn't been buried here. She'd started something here.

"We theorized the runes were keys," I muttered. "What the hell did she open?"

No one answered.

The silence was deafening.

Adrien was still on her knees, staring at her hands like they didn't belong to her.

And me? I couldn't stop looking at that name.

Alice.

My mother.

Not gone. Not forgotten.

She left this for us to find. And maybe that was the point.

Maybe the real curse wasn't the runes. It was the truth.

Because now? There was no going back.

Everything stilled for a minute, like even the labyrinth was allowing our conclusion to seep in.

The runes on Adrien's arms hadn't faded.

If anything... they were glowing brighter now. Like the altar wasn't done.

None of us moved.

The silence stretched—so sharp it felt like it could cut.

Then—slowly—something shifted.

Not in the walls.

Not in the air.

Under the floor.

I froze. "Did anyone else—?"

"Yes," Maddie whispered.

The circle beneath the altar flickered. Just once. Like something old had blinked awake. The dust in the room trembled. Then the altar cracked again—just slightly. A line we hadn't seen before splitting down its left side.

Sage backed up. "That wasn't there before, right? That line? That's new. I'm not hallucinating, am I?"

"Define hallucinating," Adrien muttered, still on her knees. But her voice was shaking now.

The runes on her hands began to bleed light again—too fast, too bright.

And then... A sound.

Not a roar. Not a voice.

Something wet. Dragging.

"Oh no," Maddie said, backing into my side. "No no no, I saw this movie. We die next."

The floor inside the circle buckled.

Sank.

Like something was slithering beneath it.

And from the crack in the altar—seeped a slow, black mist.

Not smoke. Not shadow.

Mist that glimmered with faint runes of its own.

Adrien's head snapped up. "He's here."

"Who?" Sage hissed.

Adrien didn't blink. "Whoever was inside the ritual. Whoever it was meant to raise."

I grabbed her arm. "You said the ritual was fractured—destroyed."

"It was," she whispered. "But the Labyrinth remembers. The magic remembers."

The mist spread.

And from it—Fingers.

Long. Bone-thin. Blackened at the tips. Clawing from the altar like a corpse reaching for breath.

Sage screamed. Maddie swore so loud I think her ancestors heard it.

I stepped in front of Adrien without thinking.

But the thing didn't climb out.

It didn't need to.

It watched.

I couldn't see eyes. Couldn't see a face.

But I felt it watching.

It looked at Adrien.

And something behind my ribs snapped.

The pressure hit hard—like drowning in fire.

Adrien buckled and fell forward. Her hands hit the ground, glowing so bright they seared the stone.

"I—I can't hold it—!"

"Back!" I yelled. "Everyone back!"

Sage hauled Maddie toward the stairs.

I dropped beside Adrien. "You need to let go—shut it out—"

"I'm not opening it!" she choked. "It's already open! The Labyrinth—it let him in!"

The creature lunged.

But not at us. At the altar.

Straight through it. And vanished.

The room snapped back into stillness—runic light gone, altar cracked and smoldering.

Adrien collapsed against me, breathing hard.

And I realized...

Whatever we'd just released?

It wasn't meant for us.

Not yet. It was going up.

Back to the surface. To Beauxbatons.

The thing wasn't retreating.

It twisted through the chamber—limbs snapping the wrong way, half-screaming, half-wailing as it clawed at the walls, dragging the rot with it.

I swallowed hard. "Okay. Ideas. Now."

"Destroy the altar?" Maddie offered.

"Love the instinct," Sage said. "But unless you've got a war hammer enchanted with 'Smash All Dark Rituals,' I don't think that's gonna work—plus," Sage gestured widely. "Already done."

"We're in the middle of the west wing," I said, my voice rising. "The school is still above us. With students. We can't let it get out."

Adrien didn't say a word.

She just shifted, letting her bag fall off her shoulder, started pulling the cursed book from her bag, and slammed it onto the cracked stone floor. She adjusted herself again, weakly and slowly on her knees with her palms flat on her thighs.

The creature hissed, in the distance, at the sound—like it remembered the book.

Adrien's hands hovered above the cover.

The book flapped open on its own—pages ripping, snarling as the wind picked up in a circle around us—and slammed to a page inked in symbols I didn't recognize.

Adrien looked up at me.

"You can either read with me," she said, voice shaking, "or get them out of here."

I froze.

Sage and Maddie didn't.

"The hell she is," Sage snapped, grabbing Adrien's shoulder.

"We're not leaving you down here with that thing," Maddie added, already shoving her sleeves up. "If you think I'm missing out on the grand finale, you've got resurrection magic in your ears."

Adrien gave a low, broken laugh—but her eyes didn't leave mine.

"Katie," she said, softer now. "You're the key."

I blinked. "What?"

"We thought these were keys," She gestured to her runes with a shift in her face that said she was in alot of pain. "No, you are...I'm the lock," she whispered. "The runes were never about casting something from me. They're containing it. You're the one that opens the circle. That can unmake it."

"That thing is a piece of your mum," Maddie said quietly. "Isn't it."

"No," I said slowly. "It has to be a piece of what she left behind."

The ritual had called something back. But it hadn't been Alice—not fully. Not the way she was.

It was rage. Pain. Guilt.

It was the part she couldn't bring with her when she left. And it had been waiting.

We dropped into a loose circle—no ritual, no drawn lines. Just hands clasped over the cursed book, runes flaring beneath us as the stones began to groan.

Adrien's voice was steady as she read.

And the Labyrinth responded.

The wind whipped through the chamber.

The creature screamed.

The altar split straight down the middle.

Magic surged around us—runic backlash lashing like vines, slashing the air with molten gold. The creature had reappeared at some point—wouldn't know, had my eyes closed—and lunged—but it couldn't reach us. Not with Adrien's runes flaring like a cage.

My vision blurred.

I felt Sage grip my hand tighter. Maddie was muttering something under her breath—maybe a prayer. Maybe a death threat.

The scream rose higher.

Adrien shouted the final word.

And then the world snapped.

The Labyrinth didn't collapse.

It erased itself.

Like the magic had reached the end of a rope and cut it clean.

We weren't flying.

We were falling.

Weightless, windless, spinning in gold-soaked air that burned the edges of my lungs. The runes crackled like lightning around us—too bright, too close, too much.

Then—

The ground hit like a curse.

I slammed into the frostbitten grass outside the west courtyard, knees first, ribs catching next. The sun was low—almost gone. The sky above was painted in blood and smoke and that thing was still screaming—only now the sound was warped, wrong.

Suffocating.

Crumbling.

Beside me, Sage landed with a grunt and an immediate string of curses that would've gotten us hexed by McGonagall on principle.

"Did we die?" she croaked, clutching her ribs.

"Not yet," Maddie gasped, her nose bleeding. "But I saw the light. It was Adrien's hands. Ten out of ten. Would not recommend."

My eyes whipped to Adrien.

She wasn't moving.

Flat on her back. Pale. Trembling. Runes still glowing across her arms like branding irons.

"Adrien?" My voice cracked.

She blinked once.

Didn't answer.

I crawled across the frost, knees numb, and barely caught her wrist. Her skin burned.

"She's out," Sage said, breathless. "Completely tapped."

"We have to go," I snapped. "The wards'll be crawling soon, and the school—someone had to have felt that."

Maddie was already fumbling with her cloak. "Where's the portkey?"

"Backpack," I muttered, reaching for Adrien's bag. "Left side. Wrapped in socks."

Maddie yanked it out—the old gauntlet, still warm, faintly pulsing with the signature Cassian had etched into the rim.

I shoved the portkey into the grass and grabbed Adrien's arm.

She didn't move.

"C'mon," I begged, voice gone ragged. "Just—just one more thing."

Her eyes fluttered. Barely.

Her hand twitched. She couldn't lift it.

So I did. I guided her hand over the portkey with mine, pressed our palms together.

"Now," Maddie said. "NOW."

Sage's fingers closed over mine. Maddie's over hers. All four of us tangled in frost and blood and rune-burned exhaustion.

I felt Adrien's pulse under my fingers.

Faint. Flickering. But there.

"Come on, come on, come on," I whispered like a prayer.

And then the portkey lit gold.

And we were gone.