The portal spat them out onto cold stone, and Finnian's knees buckled as reality reasserted itself around him. His stomach churned from the dimensional travel, and for a moment all he could do was focus on not throwing up while his vision swam with afterimages of the swirling void they'd just passed through.
"Easy," his mother murmured, her hand steady on his shoulder. "Portal sickness passes quickly if you don't fight it."
Portal sickness. As if that was a normal thing people experienced. Finnian looked up, blinking away tears from the nausea, and found himself in what appeared to be an ancient stone chamber. Torches flickered in iron sconces along the walls, casting dancing shadows across intricate carvings that seemed to shift and move when he wasn't looking directly at them.
"Where are we?" he managed, his voice echoing slightly in the vaulted space.
"Somewhere safe," Mrs. Ravenswood said, though her tone suggested she wasn't entirely certain of that fact. "An old... contact of mine lives here. She owes me a favor."
Before Finnian could ask what kind of favor, footsteps echoed from somewhere deeper in the chamber. They were measured, deliberate, and accompanied by the soft whisper of silk against stone. A woman emerged from the shadows at the far end of the room, and Finnian's breath caught in his throat.
She was stunning in a way that seemed almost unnatural—tall and graceful, with midnight-black hair that cascaded past her shoulders like liquid shadow. Her skin was pale as moonlight, and her eyes were the deep violet of a twilight sky. She wore robes that seemed to be cut from the night itself, dark fabric that shimmered with threads of silver that might have been embroidered stars.
But it wasn't just her beauty that made Finnian stare. There was power radiating from her like heat from a forge—raw, ancient magic that made the air around her thrum with potential energy. He could feel it pressing against his skin, and something deep inside him responded to it.
"Elena," the woman said, and her voice was like honey poured over steel—sweet but with an underlying hardness that suggested crossing her would be unwise. "It's been a long time."
"Seraphina." His mother's voice was carefully neutral, but Finnian caught the tension in her shoulders. "I need sanctuary. For both of us."
Seraphina's violet gaze shifted to Finnian, and he felt as if she were looking right through him, cataloging every secret, every hidden potential. Her lips curved in a smile that was equal parts beautiful and predatory.
"Ah," she said softly. "So this is the boy. The one you've been hiding all these years." She moved closer, her steps silent despite the stone floor, and Finnian caught a scent like night-blooming jasmine and ozone. "He's grown into quite the young man, hasn't he? And I can feel it on him—the awakening power. You can't hide what he is much longer, Elena."
"That's why we're here," his mother said tersely. "They found us tonight."
"Of course they did." Seraphina circled them slowly, like a cat studying interesting prey. "You always were too sentimental. You should have brought him to me years ago, let me train him properly instead of trying to suppress what he is."
"I was protecting him—"
"You were being selfish." The sorceress's voice cut like a blade, and Finnian saw his mother flinch. "But that's water under the bridge now, isn't it? The question is: what are you willing to pay for my protection?"
"What do you want?" Mrs. Ravenswood asked, her voice resigned.
"There's something I need retrieved. An artifact that was stolen from me some years ago by a rather enterprising thief. Normally I would handle such matters myself, but the current... political climate makes it inadvisable for me to act directly."
"What kind of artifact?" Mrs. Ravenswood asked warily.
"A focusing crystal. Quite powerful, quite dangerous in the wrong hands. The thief has holed up in a place I cannot easily reach, surrounded by wards specifically designed to keep my kind out. But you..." She smiled . "You can slip through where I cannot."
"This mission sounds way too dangerous for my current state." Mrs Ravenswood said flatly.
"Then I'll train the boy," Seraphina said with a dismissive wave. "I have excellent facilities here for training. Consider it part of the payment for sanctuary—I'll teach him to use his abilities properly, and in return, you'll help me recover what was stolen."
Finnian's mind reeled. Training? Stolen artifacts? It was like he'd stepped into some kind of fantasy novel, except the terror he'd felt facing that creature in his bedroom had been all too real.
They were talking about him like he wasn't even there, discussing his future as if it were a business transaction. Part of him wanted to protest, to demand answers, but a larger part was still trying to process the impossibility of it all. Magic was real. His mother wasn't who he thought she was. And now this impossibly beautiful woman wanted to train him to use abilities he didn't even understand.
"How long would this training take?" Mrs. Ravenswood asked, her voice tight with concern.
"That depends entirely on him," Seraphina replied, her violet eyes still fixed on Finnian in a way that made his skin crawl with awareness. "Some take months to master basic control. Others… well, bloodlines like his tend to be more… responsive."
Bloodlines. There was that word again. What did his bloodline have to do with anything? And why did everyone seem to know more about what he was than he did?
"And the retrieval?" his mother pressed. "What exactly are we walking into?"
"The thief calls himself Marcus Thorne. Former apprentice of mine, actually, before he decided my methods were too… restrictive." Seraphina's smile turned cold. "He's holed up in what used to be an old monastery, about fifty miles north of here. The place is warded against direct magical assault, and he's surrounded himself with enough hired muscle to make a frontal approach inadvisable."
Hired muscle. Wards. Former apprentices turned thieves. Finnian felt like Alice tumbling down the rabbit hole, except instead of tea parties with mad hatters, he was apparently headed for some kind of magical heist.
"What makes you think i can get in when you can't?" Mrs. Ravenswood asked.
"The wards are specifically attuned to block my particular magical signature," Seraphina explained. "They're old magic, crude but effective. However, they were designed with a very specific type of power in mind. Your abilities… they're different enough that you should be able to slip through undetected."
"I don't like it," his mother said finally.
"I didn't ask you to like it," Seraphina replied smoothly. "I'm offering you sanctuary from the things hunting you, and training for your boy so he doesn't accidentally burn down half the city when his power fully manifests. In return, I want one simple favor. It's quite generous, actually."
Generous. Finnian almost laughed, but he was afraid it might come out as hysteria. Nothing about this situation felt generous. It felt like being caught between a rock and a hard place, with monsters on one side and dangerous bargains on the other.
"What happens if we refuse?" Mrs. Ravenswood asked quietly.
"Then you leave," Seraphina said with a shrug. "The portal chamber works both ways. The supernatural community is surprisingly small, and news travels fast."
The threat was delivered so casually it took a moment to sink in. They really didn't have a choice. They had nowhere else to go, no one else to turn to. This strange, beautiful sorceress held all the cards, and she knew it.
Finnian watched his mother's shoulders slump slightly in defeat, and something twisted in his chest. This was his fault. If he hadn't been whatever he was, if he hadn't attracted those creatures, they wouldn't be in this position.
"How long do we have to decide?" Mrs. Ravenswood asked.
"Oh, my dear Elena," Seraphina said, her voice dripping with false sympathy. "You've already decided. We both know you have no other options."