Chapter 3: The Cage and the Key
1455 Words
The lights didn’t just blow out.
They imploded.
One second the safehouse room was lit by a bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. The next, the glass shattered inward with a sound like a gunshot, and the room dropped into darkness so complete Selene felt like she’d gone blind.
The pressure in her chest spiked again, sharp and hot, and something under her skin tried to claw its way out.
“Selene,” Draven said. His voice was close, low, a warning. “Breathe.”
“How?” she snapped. “You just told me I’m a walking gate to Hell!”
“I told you the truth,” Draven said. “Now breathe before you wake the whole house.”
She couldn’t. Her hands were shaking, her heart was slamming against her ribs, and the air felt too thick, too heavy, like the room was shrinking around her.
Then a hand found hers in the dark.
It was hot. Too hot. Human skin didn’t feel like that. But the heat wasn’t burning. It was steady, grounding, pulling the panic out of her chest one slow drag at a time.
“Match me,” Draven said. “In. Out. In. Out.”
Selene forced herself to follow. In. Out. In. Out.
The pressure eased. The light under her skin dimmed.
“What was that?” she asked when she could speak again.
“Your power testing the locks,” Draven said. He let go of her hand, and the cold rushed back in. “It knows you’re in danger. It wants out.”
“I don’t want it out,” Selene said. “I don’t want any of this.”
“I know,” Draven said.
She hated that he sounded like he meant it.
A soft click sounded, and the door opened. Light spilled in from the hallway—dim, red, emergency lighting. Kaia stood there, sword in hand, eyes scanning the room.
“Status?” Kaia asked.
“Contained,” Draven said.
Kaia’s gaze flicked to Selene, took in the broken bulb, the trembling hands, and nodded once. “Malachai’s still in the Quarter. He’s not moving yet.”
“Good,” Draven said. “Keep it that way.”
Kaia left without another word. The door clicked shut.
Selene sank back onto the bed. Her legs felt like water.
“So what now?” she asked. “I just sit here while you play guard dog?”
“You sit here while I figure out how to keep you alive,” Draven said. He moved to the chair in the corner and sat, like he intended to stay a while. “You don’t know what you are. You don’t know how to use it. And Malachai does.”
“I don’t want to use it,” Selene said.
“You don’t get a choice,” Draven said. “Not anymore. Malachai already knows your name. He knows your bloodline. If he finds you, he’ll take you, and he’ll use you, and the Gate opens. That’s it.”
Selene closed her eyes. “There has to be another way.”
“There isn’t,” Draven said. “Unless you learn to control it before he does.”
She opened her eyes. “You want to train me?”
“I want you alive,” Draven said. “Training is the only way.”
Selene laughed. It sounded hysterical even to her. “You? Teaching me? You hate me.”
“I don’t hate you,” Draven said.
“Could’ve fooled me,” Selene said. “You kidnapped me. You threatened me. You act like I’m a bomb that might go off.”
“Because you are,” Draven said bluntly. “And if you go off in the wrong place, the city dies.”
The bluntness of it knocked the air out of her.
Selene stared at him. In the red light, his face was all sharp angles and old scars she hadn’t noticed before. He looked tired. Not sleep-tired. Old-tired. The kind of tired that came from carrying the weight of the world for too long.
“Why do you care?” she asked quietly.
Draven didn’t answer right away.
“Because if Malachai opens the Gate, I lose,” he said finally. “And I hate losing.”
That wasn’t the whole truth. Selene could hear it in the way his voice dropped on the last word. But she didn’t push. Not yet.
“Fine,” she said. “Train me. But I’m not staying in this room like a prisoner.”
Draven’s jaw tightened. “It’s for your safety.”
“It’s for your convenience,” Selene said. “I’m not a dog, Draven. I don’t stay on command.”
“You will when Malachai comes for you,” Draven said.
“Then let him come,” Selene said. She stood, squaring her shoulders. “I’m tired of running. If I’m a weapon, let me be a weapon I control. Not yours. Mine.”
Draven stood too. He was taller, broader, and the air around him seemed to heat up with his temper.
“You don’t understand what you’re asking,” he said.
“Then explain it,” Selene said. “Don’t just order me around and expect me to obey. I’m not yours, Draven. I’m not anyone’s.”
For a long moment, they just stared at each other.
Then Draven sighed. It was a sound like stone grinding.
“Fine,” he said. “We start now.”
*********
The training room was in the basement.
It was bigger than it had any right to be, all concrete and steel, with wards etched into the walls in a language Selene didn’t recognize. The air smelled like ozone and old blood.
Kaia was there, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. She nodded at Selene but didn’t say anything.
Draven stopped in the middle of the room and turned to face her.
“First rule,” he said. “You don’t fight what you are. You control it.”
“I don’t even know what ‘it’ is,” Selene said.
“Solis magic,” Draven said. “Light magic. Old magic. It responds to intent. To truth. To what you want more than anything in that moment.”
Selene frowned. “That sounds vague.”
“It is,” Draven said. “Magic doesn’t care about logic. It cares about will. So. What do you want right now?”
Selene thought about it.
“I want to stop feeling scared,” she said.
“Good,” Draven said. “Focus on that. Let it fill you. Let it be the only thing that matters.”
Selene closed her eyes. She focused on the fear—the cold, clawing thing in her gut. She imagined grabbing it, holding it, squeezing it until it had nowhere left to go.
Nothing happened.
“Try again,” Draven said.
“I am trying!” Selene snapped.
“Not with your hands,” Draven said. “With your intent. Stop trying to control it. Let it control you, and then take the reins.”
Selene took a deep breath and tried again.
This time, she felt it. A flicker, deep inside, like a match striking in a dark room. Warmth spread through her chest, and the fear receded, just a little.
Her palms tingled.
When she opened her eyes, her hands were glowing faintly gold again.
Kaia straightened from the wall.
Draven’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes sharpened.
“Good,” he said. “Now hold it.”
“It’s hard,” Selene said, her voice strained.
“Hold it,” Draven repeated.
Selene gritted her teeth and focused. The light grew brighter, steadier. The fear was gone, replaced by something fierce and clear.
“Now,” Draven said, “push it out.”
“What?” Selene said.
“Push it out,” Draven said. “Like you’re throwing a punch. Aim at the wall.”
Selene looked at the concrete wall, then back at him. “You want me to throw magic at a wall?”
“I want you to learn control,” Draven said. “Do it.”
Selene hesitated, then thrust her hands forward.
The light left her in a burst, a wave of gold that hit the wall with a sound like a bell.
The wards flared to life, absorbing the impact. The room shook.
Selene staggered back, breathing hard. Her hands were shaking again, but this time it was from exertion, not fear.
Draven nodded once.
“Again,” he said.
Selene groaned. “You’re kidding.”
“No,” Draven said. “Again.”
- Writer
