Chapter 17

Getting Lucia to the infirmary was the easy part.

Thaddeus handled it. His family name opened doors that would have stayed locked for the rest of us. He walked in like he belonged there, which he did, and explained that we'd found this girl wandering the grounds. Confused. Disoriented. Probably a portal accident of some kind.

The staff was suspicious. You could see it in their faces. Five first-years showing up after midnight with an unconscious student wasn't exactly normal. But Thaddeus had that old-family confidence, the kind that makes people second-guess their own instincts. They took Lucia in. Started running tests. Asked questions we deflected with vague answers and concerned expressions.

Lucia couldn't contradict us. She could barely open her eyes.

We left her there and walked back to the dorms in silence. The late February air bit through my jacket and I barely noticed. The adrenaline had worn off somewhere between sublevel three and the main building, and now we were just tired. Bone tired. The kind of exhaustion that goes deeper than muscles.

"What now?" Sasha asked.

Nobody answered. We didn't know.

I couldn't sleep.

Every time I closed my eyes, I felt the facility pressing against me again. The portal chamber. The walls. The accumulated weight of decades of suffering soaked into stone.

That shouldn't have happened. I read people. That was the whole point. Emotions, intentions, the things humans carry around inside them. Not places. Not buildings. Not the hungry pulse of a portal that felt like all the Signs converging into something I couldn't name.

I lay in the dark and tried to make sense of it.

The hidden door was the worst part. I'd felt it behind the wall like it was calling to me. Hinges. Lock. The corridor beyond. The man in gray had asked me to reach for it and I'd found it instantly, like some part of me already knew how to look.

A reader who can sense hidden architecture.

His words kept circling back. The recognition in his eyes. Like he'd been waiting for me to figure out something I didn't understand yet.

I finally gave up on sleep around four in the morning. Sat at my desk and watched the sky lighten through the window. The grounds were covered in that thin late-winter frost that would melt by noon. Spring break was two weeks away. Two weeks of pretending everything was normal before we scattered and lost momentum.

By the time the sun was fully up, I'd convinced myself I was overthinking it. Stress. Adrenaline. The terror of being caught in that place had probably just scrambled my perceptions. Made me feel things that weren't really there.

Except I knew that was a lie. The facility had shown me something about myself that I wasn't ready to accept.

The argument happened later that morning.

We gathered in the empty classroom that had become our unofficial headquarters. The one with the broken heating vent that rattled every few minutes. Marcus was late, which wasn't unusual anymore. He'd been drifting since we got back, present but not really there.

"We have to tell someone," Thaddeus said. "We have evidence. Photos. A rescued student. This is exactly the kind of thing the administration needs to know about."

"And you trust the administration?" Dao was pacing. He'd been pacing since we started. "The same administration that's been letting students disappear for who knows how long?"

"We don't know they've been letting it happen. Maybe they didn't know."

"Then they're incompetent. Either way, not exactly reassuring."

Sasha had her phone out, scrolling through the photos she'd taken in the facility. "We should analyze these more before we show anyone. Identify the symbols. Cross-reference with historical records. Build a case that can't be dismissed."

"That could take weeks. And spring break is coming. We won't even be able to meet."

"Better than rushing in and getting shut down."

I listened to them argue. Each position made sense from a certain angle. Thaddeus wanted to believe the system worked. Dao was sure it didn't. Sasha wanted more data before committing to either view.

"Something happened to me in the facility," I said.

The arguing stopped. Everyone looked at me.

"When I tried to read the man in gray, I couldn't get through his walls. So I pushed past him. Tried to find something else to latch onto." I paused, trying to find the right words. "I felt the room instead. The portal chamber. Not the people who'd been there, but the place itself."

"That's not how your ability works," Sasha said slowly.

"I know."

"You read people. Emotions. Intentions. That's what you've always described."

"I know." I ran a hand through my hair. "But I felt that room. The portal. The walls. Decades of suffering soaked into the stone. And there was a hidden door behind one of the walls. I felt it before he even mentioned it. Hinges. Lock. Everything."

They were all staring at me now.

"Maybe you were reading the people who built it," Thaddeus offered. "Their intentions embedded in the architecture?"

"Maybe."

But I knew it was more than that. The portal hadn't felt like human intention. It had felt like hunger. Like something alive and waiting.

"We can figure out what's happening to you later," Dao said. "Right now we need to decide what to do about the facility."

He was right. My weird new perception could wait. The students still in those chairs couldn't.

"I'll go to Cross," I said. "She recruited me. She's invested in what happens to me. If anyone at this school is going to listen, it's her."

"And if she's part of it?" Dao stopped pacing. "If she already knows?"

"Then I'll find out."

"How? You couldn't read the guy at the facility. What makes you think you can read her?"

He had a point. The man in gray had been a wall. Smooth and blank. But Cross was different. I'd felt warmth from her before. Genuine concern. If something was wrong underneath, maybe I'd catch it.

Or maybe I was just telling myself that because I wanted to believe she was trustworthy.

"I'll go alone," I said. "If it goes badly, the rest of you can still act. But someone has to try."

Thaddeus nodded. He'd been hoping someone would suggest this. Dao looked skeptical but didn't argue. Sasha started making copies of the photos, just in case.

Marcus still hadn't shown up. I decided not to wait for him.

Cross's office was warm. It always was. She had a lamp in the corner that cast everything in soft gold light. Books lined the walls. A plant sat on her windowsill, something green and sturdy that seemed to thrive despite the lingering winter. The whole space felt like a sanctuary.

I knocked. She looked up from her desk and smiled.

"Eli. Come in. You look exhausted."

"Rough couple of days."

"I can imagine." She gestured to the chair across from her. "Tea?"

"No. Thank you." I sat down, trying to figure out how to start. "I need to tell you something. Something important."

Her expression shifted from welcoming to concerned. The transition was smooth and natural. "Of course. What's wrong?"

I told her. Not everything. Not the exact route we'd taken or how Marcus had gotten us past the wards. But enough. The facility. The students in chairs. The extraction process. Lucia.

Cross listened without interrupting. Her face went through all the right emotions. Horror when I described the extraction rooms. Concern when I mentioned how many students we'd seen. Determination when I explained that we had photos, evidence, proof.

And the whole time, I was reading her.

I felt warmth. Genuine warmth. The same thing I'd felt from her since the first day she found me in that Ohio auditorium. She cared about me. Wanted to help me. Was genuinely disturbed by what I was describing.

That was all I could get. Whatever was happening deeper, behind the concern and the care, I couldn't reach it. Her walls were too good. Or maybe there was nothing to reach. Maybe she really was exactly what she seemed.

"This is serious," she said when I finished. "Very serious. I need to report this to the headmaster immediately."

"We have photos."

"Can you show me?"

I hesitated. Something in my gut told me to hold back. But I couldn't name the feeling, couldn't point at anything specific that made me doubt her. Just instinct. And instinct wasn't enough.

I pulled out my phone. Showed her the photos Sasha had sent me.

Cross studied each one carefully. Her expression was grim.

"These symbols," she said, pointing at one of the images. "I recognize them. This is Miriam's work. Or her followers."

"Her followers?"

"The Bound." Cross set the phone down and looked at me. "It's a cult, essentially. Practitioners who believe Miriam's philosophy. That the old families have hoarded power for too long. That extraction is justified if it serves their cause."

The man in gray had said similar things. About Miriam targeting vulnerable students. About decades of this happening.

"You're lucky to be alive," Cross continued. "If they'd known you were there, if they'd caught you instead of letting you go..." She shook her head. "Miriam doesn't leave witnesses."

"The man at the facility let us go. He wanted us to see what was happening."

"That's how she recruits. Shows people the ugly truth about extraction, makes them angry, channels that anger toward her cause. She's been doing it for years." Cross leaned forward. "Eli, I need you to be careful. What you stumbled into is bigger than a school investigation. Miriam has connections everywhere. People who seem trustworthy but aren't."

"Like who?"

"That's what we need to find out." She stood up, moved to her window, looked out at the grounds. "I'll take this to the headmaster tonight. We'll launch a formal investigation. But in the meantime, I need you to keep quiet about this. Don't discuss it with other students. Don't confront anyone. Let the adults handle it from here."

"And if the adults don't handle it?"

She turned back to me. Her eyes were kind. Concerned. Exactly what a mentor's eyes should look like.

"I will personally make sure this gets the attention it deserves. You've done enough, Eli. More than enough. Now let us do our jobs."

I left her office feeling uncertain. Not reassured, not suspicious. Like I'd handed something precious to someone and wasn't sure if they were going to protect it or drop it.

Back in the classroom, I delivered the report. Cross was handling it. Investigation incoming.

Dao was skeptical but had nothing specific to point at. Thaddeus was relieved. Sasha wanted to keep copies of everything just in case.

Marcus finally arrived while I was mid-sentence. He'd been spiraling since the facility. His great-aunt's name on that wall. Sixty years of family history rewritten in an instant.

"I called her," he said. His voice was flat. "My grandmother."

We waited.

"Eleanor was her older sister. Brilliant. Brave. A Holloway through and through. In 1962, she found something at Mudwick. Evidence of students being taken. She tried to expose it." He sat down heavily. "She disappeared. The family was told she'd had a breakdown. They never saw her again."

"Miriam?" Dao asked.

"Gran spent years looking for answers. Found traces of something. Names. Connections. But every time she got close, things went wrong. Sources stopped talking. Records vanished. She gave up because she wanted to live."

"Did she say who was behind it?"

"She mentioned Miriam. Said Miriam destroyed the Holloways. Hunted them for generations because they got too close." He looked at me. "Everything the man at the facility said. Everything Cross told you. It matches."

"But?" I could feel there was something else.

"But she also mentioned a name. The Accord. Something older. Something built into the foundations." He shook his head. "She couldn't learn more. Everyone she asked either didn't know or wouldn't say."

Sasha wrote it down. The Accord. Another mystery for the pile.

Two days passed. Nothing happened.

Classes continued. Meals happened. Students walked the grounds and complained about assignments. The machinery of school kept grinding forward like nothing had changed.

I kept waiting for something. An announcement. Faculty pulling us aside for questions. Any sign that Cross had done what she promised.

Silence.

I saw her once, in the hallway between classes. She gave me a small nod. Reassuring. Patient. The kind of look that said trust me, I'm working on it.

I wanted to believe her. I really did.

That afternoon, I went to visit Lucia.

The infirmary was quiet. Just a few students in beds, recovering from minor accidents or illness. Lucia was in a private room at the back.

She was awake. Propped up on pillows, staring at the ceiling.

"Hey," I said from the doorway.

Her eyes moved to me. Recognition came slowly.

"You're one of the ones who found me."

"Yeah." I stepped inside, closed the door. "How are you feeling?"

"Like something's missing." Her voice was flat. Matter-of-fact. "The healers keep saying I'll recover. That it just takes time. But I can feel the empty space. Where something used to be."

I didn't know what to say. What do you say to someone who's been hollowed out?

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You got me out." She almost smiled. "That's more than anyone else did."

I sat down in the chair by her bed. The silence stretched.

"Can I ask you something? Do you remember how you got there? To the facility?"

Lucia's eyes went distant. "They told me my scholarship was ending. That my family wanted me back. That there was a portal ready to take me home." Her hands tightened on the blanket. "I believed them. I was so happy. I missed my family so much."

"Who told you?"

"A professor. One of the ones who teaches about portals." She frowned, trying to remember. "He was so nice. Seemed really concerned about me. Said he wanted to make sure I got home safely."

My heart started beating faster.

"Do you remember his name?"

"I... no. But I remember his voice. And something he said." Her eyes focused on me. "When I stepped through the portal, he said 'safe travels.' Like I was going on vacation. 'Safe travels, Miss Vasquez. Your family is waiting.'"

The words hit me like a punch.

Safe travels.

I'd heard that phrase before. In class. A quirky sign-off that had seemed harmless.

"Professor Blackwood," I said.

Lucia's face changed. Fear flickered across it.

"That's him. That's exactly how he said it. That's his voice."

I found the others in the dining hall.

"Blackwood," I said, sitting down across from them. "Lucia identified him. He's the one who sent her through."

Dao's fork stopped halfway to his mouth. "The portal teacher?"

"The one who warned us away from sublevel three," Sasha said slowly. "The one who always asks first-gen students to stay after class."

"He reads the transfer announcements," Thaddeus added. "Made that little speech when the student in October supposedly transferred. Said the school wasn't for everyone."

We looked at each other. The pieces clicking together.

"We need to tell Cross," Thaddeus said.

"Cross hasn't done anything." Dao pushed his tray away. "Two days since Eli told her. No investigation. No questions. Just silence."

"These things take time."

"How much time? How many more students disappear while we wait?"

"We should watch him," I said. "Before we tell anyone else. Make sure we're right."

The surveillance started that afternoon. We took shifts. Casual observation. Noting when Blackwood came and went, where he walked, who he talked to.

For two days, nothing unusual. He taught his classes with the same absent-minded enthusiasm he always had. Explained portal theory with wild hand gestures and tangential stories. Ate lunch in the faculty dining room. Went to his quarters at night.

If I hadn't known what Lucia told me, I would have thought he was exactly what he appeared to be.

On the evening of the second day, Sasha found me in the library.

"He's moving."

We gathered quickly. Followed at a distance as Blackwood walked through the main building, into the east wing. Toward the restricted section. Toward sublevel three.

He checked the corridor three times before descending. Looking over his shoulder. Jumping at shadows. Nothing like the confident professor I'd seen in class. This was a man who knew he was doing something wrong.

We watched him disappear into the stairwell.

"We need to tell someone," Thaddeus whispered.

"Tell who?" Dao kept his voice low, but the anger was audible. "Cross? She's had days to do something. And here he is, walking right back to the scene."

"We catch him ourselves," I said. "When he comes back up. We confront him. Get a confession."

Sasha was already positioning herself near the stairwell entrance. "He'll have to come back up eventually."

We waited. The minutes stretched out. I counted my heartbeats. Watched the shadows.

Finally, movement. The sound of someone climbing stairs.

Blackwood emerged. Still nervous. Still checking his surroundings.

He saw us. All four of us, blocking the corridor.

His face went through several expressions. Surprise. Fear. And then something that looked almost like relief.

"You're the ones who went through," he said. Not a question. "The wards recorded your passage. I'd hoped it was someone else."

"You sent Lucia through that portal." I kept my voice steady. "You told her she was going home."

Blackwood sighed. The fear drained out of him, replaced by tired resignation.

"I told her what she needed to hear. They all need to hear something. A scholarship ending. A family emergency. An opportunity somewhere else." He shook his head. "The story doesn't matter. Just that they believe it long enough to step through."

"Why?"

He looked at me. Really looked. And what I felt from him wasn't malice. Just exhaustion. The weariness of someone who'd been doing something difficult for a very long time.

"Because Miriam needs them. Because this is what service to her cause looks like. Because some of us believe the old order needs to fall, no matter the cost."

No dramatic speech. No villainous justification. Just a man explaining his job.

"The Bound," Sasha said. "You're one of them."

"I was one of them. Before you children stumbled into things you don't understand." He rubbed his eyes. "It's over now. I knew it was over the moment those wards registered your return. You were supposed to be caught in the facility. Supposed to disappear like the others. But you made it back, and now..."

He spread his hands. A gesture of surrender.

"Now I'm the sacrifice. The story that lets everyone else keep pretending."

"What does that mean?"

"It means they'll blame me. Only me. A rogue professor working alone. Corrupted by Miriam's influence. Nothing systemic. Nothing institutional." His smile was bitter. "Just one bad apple. That's all they need. One person to point at, one villain to condemn, and then everyone can go back to pretending the system works."

"You're lying," Dao said. "Trying to confuse us."

"I'm telling you the truth. For the first time in years, probably." Blackwood looked at each of us. "You think you've won something tonight. You haven't. You've just given them a cleaner ending."

Footsteps echoed down the corridor. Multiple sets.

Blackwood didn't seem surprised.

"Right on schedule," he said.

Faculty appeared from both directions. Security staff with them. They moved with purpose, surrounding Blackwood with practiced efficiency.

Professor Cross was there. Her face was grave. Appropriate.

"Professor Blackwood," she said. "You'll need to come with us."

He didn't resist. Just nodded and let them take his arms.

As they led him away, Cross turned to me.

"You should have let me handle this," she said. "But I understand why you didn't."

No accusation. No anger. Just disappointment and concern.

I read her. Pushed hard. Looked for anything behind the surface.

Warmth. Genuine concern. The desire to help.

That was all. Her walls were perfect.

"I launched the investigation yesterday," she said. "We were going to bring Blackwood in tomorrow. You just accelerated the timeline."

"How did you know we were here?"

"The wards alerted us when he entered the restricted area. We were already on our way." She put a hand on my shoulder. Brief, appropriate, comforting. "You did good work. But it's over now. Let us handle the rest."

She walked away. Followed the others escorting Blackwood toward wherever they took professors who confessed to feeding students to extraction facilities.

I stood in the empty corridor with the others.

They'd caught him. We'd caught him. The man responsible for Lucia's hollowing was going to face consequences.

So why did it feel like losing?

You've just given them a cleaner ending.

I thought about Cross arriving right on schedule. About the investigation she claimed to have launched. About how convenient it was that everything wrapped up so neatly.

I had no proof anything was wrong. No read that contradicted what she told me. Just a feeling. A nagging sense that the pieces fit together too perfectly.

The assembly happened the next morning.

The whole school gathered in the main hall. Students filling the benches, faculty lining the walls, everyone buzzing with rumors they'd half-heard about an arrest. About a professor being taken away in the night.

Headmaster Vane stood at the podium.

I'd seen him before. Brief glimpses around campus, mostly. He was younger than I'd expected when I first arrived. Maybe late forties. The kind of face that suggested competence rather than intimidation. He had a reputation for remembering names, for checking in with students who seemed to be struggling, for actually caring about the job beyond just the title.

Now he looked tired. The weight of whatever had happened settling on his shoulders in real time.

"I won't insult your intelligence with vague reassurances," he began. His voice carried easily, no amplification needed. "You've heard rumors. Some of them are true. Professor Blackwood was taken into custody last night. He has been removed from his position and will face formal proceedings."

A murmur rippled through the hall.

"I know you want details. I know you want to understand what happened and why." Vane paused, scanning the crowd. "I can't give you everything yet. The investigation is ongoing. But I can tell you that we have reason to believe Professor Blackwood was involved in the disappearances that have troubled this school over the past months."

I reached out and read him from across the room. Not pushing hard. Just feeling what was on the surface.

Concern. Genuine concern for the students in front of him. Relief that someone had been caught, that the situation felt handled. A deep weariness underneath, the kind that comes from sleepless nights and impossible decisions.

Nothing hidden. Nothing suspicious. Just a man doing a difficult job as well as he could.

"I want to be clear about something," Vane continued. "This was one individual. Acting alone. We have no evidence of any wider conspiracy within the faculty or administration. Professor Blackwood appears to have been corrupted by outside influence, by a radical movement that preys on those who feel marginalized by our traditional structures."

The Bound. Miriam. The same story Cross had told me.

"For those of you who are frightened, that's understandable. For those who are angry, that's understandable too. But I need you to trust that we are handling this. That the systems in place are working. That Mudwick remains the safest place for people like us."

I watched his face as he said it. He believed what he was saying. Completely. No flicker of deception, no hidden knowledge leaking through.

Either he was telling the truth, or he was as fooled as everyone else.

"Classes will continue as normal. Counseling services are available for anyone who needs them. If you have any information you think might be relevant, please speak with your house advisor or any member of faculty." He straightened slightly. "We will get through this together. That's what Mudwick has always done. That's what we'll continue to do."

The assembly ended. Students filed out, talking in hushed voices. Theories and speculations spreading like fire through dry grass.

I sat in my seat and watched Vane step down from the podium. Cross approached him, said something I couldn't hear. He nodded, rubbed his eyes, looked every bit like a man carrying more weight than he knew what to do with.

A good headmaster. Competent. Caring. Genuinely trying to protect his students.

And maybe that was true. Maybe Vane was exactly what he appeared to be.

But Blackwood's words kept echoing in my head. Just one bad apple. That's all they need.

Someone had to be the face of this. Someone had to take the blame so everyone else could go back to pretending the system worked.

What if Vane was part of that pretending? Not a villain. Just someone who needed to believe the comfortable story as much as anyone else.

Marcus didn't come to lunch. Or dinner.

I found him in his room that evening, sitting on his bed with a bag half-packed.

"Going somewhere?"

"Home. For a while." He didn't look at me. "I need to go through Gran's things. The research she did decades ago. The names and connections she found before she got scared."

"You're leaving."

"I'm following the only lead that matters to me." He finally met my eyes. "My family used to be investigators. Real ones. People who didn't stop until they found the truth. Gran gave that up to survive. I'm not going to."

"What about the group? What about us?"

"You caught Blackwood. The investigation is happening. What else is there to do here?"

"You know it's not that simple. You heard what he said."

"I heard a lot of things." Marcus stood up, started shoving clothes into his bag. "Some of them contradict each other. Gran says the Holloways were destroyed by Miriam. Blackwood says he worked for Miriam. Cross says The Bound serves Miriam. Everything points to Miriam."

"But?"

"But Gran also mentioned the Accord. Something older. Something built into the foundations." He zipped the bag shut. "Maybe Miriam is the enemy. Maybe she took over whatever the Accord was. Or maybe she's fighting it and we can't see the real enemy at all. I don't know. But I'm not going to figure it out sitting in class pretending everything's normal."

"The school won't just let you leave."

"They'll let me take a leave of absence. Family emergency. Gran's been getting worse since Christmas." His voice caught. "That part's even true. She doesn't have long. And I need to talk to her again before I can't."

I didn't know what to say. Marcus had been part of this from the beginning. His grandmother's warnings had set everything in motion.

"Will you come back?"

"I'll be back before spring term ends. Maybe. After I find what my grandmother was hiding." He picked up the bag. "If I learn something useful, I'll send word. But I can't stay here. Not knowing what I know. Not wondering if every professor I pass is part of whatever this is."

He walked past me to the door. Stopped.

"Be careful, Eli. Blackwood was right about one thing. We gave them a cleaner ending. But endings have a way of becoming beginnings."

He left.

I sat on his empty bed for a long time, staring at the wall. Trying to make sense of what I'd felt in that facility. The room pressing against me. The hidden door calling to me. The portal's hunger.

That's never happened before. I've never read a building.

Thaddeus had suggested I was reading the intentions of the people who built it. And maybe that was part of it. But the facility hadn't felt like human intention. It had felt alive. Aware. Like the place itself was watching us move through it.

I thought about Vane at the podium, radiating genuine concern. Cross in the corridor, her walls so perfect I couldn't find a crack. Blackwood's bitter certainty that he was just a convenient sacrifice.

Someone was lying. Maybe everyone was lying. Or maybe nobody was, and the truth was something bigger than any of them understood.

The only thing I knew for certain was that my abilities were changing. Becoming something I didn't recognize. And until I figured out what that meant, I couldn't trust my own perceptions.

Blackwood was caught. The case was closed. The system had worked.

So why did it feel like the beginning of something worse?