Chapter 61 The Vanishing Britha
Magnus
With a slow turn of my robes, I stepped out of the factory and into the narrow street.
My healing had done little for Elara’s wounds. The damage could only have been caused by a Celestial.
The air in Dust carried the stench of rot and damp stone. Horns sounded somewhere near the gates. Doors slammed open and shut as people rushed out of their homes. Lanterns swung above the streets, their light uneven across the cracked road.
Sera Bale was here. Elara had said so herself.
And I would find her.
I began walking toward the gates. My pace was steady, unhurried. Around me, people moved quickly in the same direction, clutching sacks, dragging children, carrying whatever possessions they could gather. None of them paid attention to me.
That suited me perfectly.
As I made my way through the winding streets, my thoughts returned to the Academy earlier that day.
Andres Thorne could not be found. That issue remained unresolved. I decided not to waste time on him. Instead, I turned to another search—something simpler, something that would yield results quickly.
Attendance. Students missed classes every day. Some required time to recover after training. Some were careless. Others believed their absence would go unnoticed.
Most of the names on the list belonged to boys. I dismissed them quickly. Then I saw two names. Both girls.
I summoned Philippa. She appeared within moments, already carrying several files. “You asked for the attendance records and their files, my lord,” she said, placing them neatly on my desk.
“Yes,” I replied. “Female students absent more than two days.”
She opened the first folder and slid a parchment toward me. “The first student is Lady Mereth Valcor.”
I glanced at the page and immediately closed the file. Royal blood. Unsuitable unless I wanted a war.
“Related to the Dark Prince of Arcanis,” Philippa added.
“I can read,” I said. She inclined her head slightly and moved to the second file. “Britha Borin.”
The name held my attention. I read the record carefully. No noble connections. No political influence. Her magical ability was average. Her conduct reports were unremarkable. A quiet student who rarely drew attention. The kind of student who could disappear without anyone asking questions.
“Where is she now?” I asked. Philippa placed another parchment before me.
“She requested a leave of absence three days ago,” she said. “Citing health concerns. Magical exhaustion.”
I read the line again. Health concerns. How convenient. I looked up. “Is she at the dormitories?”
Philippa shook her head.
“Then where is she?”
She turned the parchment over. “She left an address near the harbor.”
I leaned back in my chair. The secret lover. She would serve my purposes well. Especially one who vanished.
Reginald Moore’s death was already drawing attention. Questions would follow soon, and I could not risk the Examiners telling their version of that night.
Once the rumors begin to circulate, the Magistrate would have something else to focus on. A scandal would redirect her attention.
“Yes,” I said quietly. “This will work.”
Philippa did not ask what I meant. She never did.
“Leave the rest of the student reports,” I told her. “I will return to them later. If anyone comes asking for me, tell them I am not to be disturbed.”
“Yes, my lord.” She left the remaining files on my desk and exited the room.
When the door closed behind her, I reached for the orb at my throat. I pressed it once. The world shifted. A moment later, I stood on a quiet street near the harbor.
The sound of water reached me before anything else. Sunlight glinted faintly across the dark surface of the cove, catching the narrow townhouses pressed close together along the road. One building had a small sign swinging above the door: a café. I stepped inside, the bell chiming softly above me.
The owner looked up from behind the counter, a small man with a thick mustache that twitched whenever he spoke.
“Good evening, sir,” he said, gesturing toward an empty table. “Tea?”
“Yes,” I replied, taking a seat.
He moved quickly, pouring the liquid and setting the cup before me. “Quiet afternoon,” he continued as he worked, “though the fishermen say the wind will change by morning.”
I said nothing, nodding occasionally to let him think I was listening, allowing him to feel at ease. His words flowed freely, a steady stream of chatter that revealed more than he realized. Finally, when his voice tapered off and he grew quiet, I leaned slightly forward. “Do you know where I might find a Britha Borin?”
His face lit up immediately. “Ah, yes. The young lady staying down the road,” he said, pointing toward the shoreline. “There— the little white house near the cove.” He leaned closer. “She and her betrothed rented it for a few days. Wanted privacy, they said.”
“Did they?” I asked, voice even.
“Oh yes. Very quiet couple,” he said. “The young man goes to the market every late afternoon.”
I finished the tea in silence. When the cup was empty, I placed a gold coin on the table. “Thank you,” I said, then stood and left.
The house stood exactly where the man had described: small, white-stoned, partially hidden at the edge of the cove. I stayed across the street, eyes fixed, keeping to the shadows of a nearby alley. The water lapped quietly at the shore, and the occasional creak of the dock was the only sound. I waited. Minutes passed, and then the door opened.
A young man stepped outside carrying a small basket. He closed the door behind him and walked toward the market road without looking back.
Perfect.
I crossed the street and knocked.
After several seconds, the door opened. Britha Borin stared at me. Shock spread across her face the moment she recognized me. She had dark hair and brown eyes, small and petite, with smooth bronze skin. She was pretty. That made what I had to do next all the more efficient.
“Lord Magnus?” she said, her voice tight with confusion and fear.
“May I come in?” I asked calmly.
She stepped aside immediately. “Yes, of course.”
The door closed behind me. “It seems you have missed quite a number of days in school,” I said quietly.
She began speaking almost at once. “I—I’m sorry, my lord,” she said quickly. “I filed the proper leave request. I only needed a few days. The healers said rest would help.”
I raised my hand. Her voice stopped. Her body lifted from the floor as the air tightened around her throat.
Her hands shot upward, trying to pull away from the invisible force. Her feet kicked, trying to find footing. Her eyes widened in panic. Students always reacted the same way.
She struggled harder. Her mouth opened and closed, trying to breathe. Seconds passed. Her movements slowed, then stopped entirely.
I released the spell. Her body collapsed onto the floor. The room was silent.
I looked down at her. A perfectly ordinary girl, pretty, and useful for a single purpose.
“Nullform,” I said quietly.
Her body disintegrated instantly. Skin vanished first. Then bone. Then clothing. Within moments, the floor was empty. No blood. No evidence.
Done.
I touched the orb at my throat. The world shifted, and I was back at the Academy. The sun was low on the horizon, the long shadows of the towers stretching across the courtyard. Students and staff moved about, oblivious to what had just happened.
I summoned Liraine. She appeared moments later, bowing her head. “Lord Magnus,” she said carefully.
“Do you have news about the girl?” I asked.
“Sera Bale?” she squeaked.
I scoffed. "Who else am I referring to?"
“No, my lord. We have no record of her location,” she admitted. Then she added softly, “Please, show mercy to me and my family.”
I studied her face. “Perhaps,” I said. Hope flickered in her eyes. “But first,” I continued, “you will do something for me.”
She nodded immediately. “Anything, my lord.”
“Spread a rumor,” I said, “about Reginald Moore.”
Her expression shifted slightly. “A rumor?”
“Yes. That he had a student lover. A girl who recently left the Academy to join him in Lunara.”
She hesitated only briefly. “It will be done.”
“Good.” I rose from my chair. “Your debt to me is settled.”
Relief passed over her face. “Thank you, Lord Magnus.”
“But I want it done now,” I added. “I will know if there has been a delay.”
“I assure you it will be done,” she said, bowing before leaving the room.
By the time the rumor began circulating, the sun had already set and dusk had fallen.
After a satisfying supper in my office, I considered returning to Aetheria, but I knew the Emperor would still be awake, restless as ever. I did not want to deal with him tonight. Instead, I turned my attention to Dust. I would visit the Warden, even at this late hour.
The orb pulsed again. My office vanished around me, replaced instantly by the streets of Dust.
The horns were already sounding. People poured into the streets, moving toward the gates in a rising tide of confusion.
I summoned the Enforcers stationed in the district. Those outside appeared almost immediately. Those inside did not.
“What is happening?” I asked.
“Rebels, my lord,” one replied.
“Seal the gates,” I ordered. They moved without hesitation. “And the others?” I asked. “Where are they?”
“They were guarding the boys at the old factory,” another said.
“I will find them,” I said. “Hold the gates until my return.”
Now, as I neared the gates, the situation was already unraveling. The crowd thickened along the main road, their voices rising over the horns. Dim light from the street torches flickered across the throng of bodies pushing toward the exit.
And then I saw the gates. Open.
That alone was enough to annoy me. The order had been clear. No one was to leave Dust.
But something else caught my attention. A small figure near the edge of the street. A young girl. Her clothes were dirty, her hair unkempt, though her cloak was new. She did not move toward the gates like the others. Instead, she slipped into a narrow alley leading toward the boundary between Dust and Coal.
Unusual.
I touched the sleeve of my robe. The blue fabric darkened instantly, spreading across my body until it was black. I drew the hood over my head, shadows concealing my face, and moved toward the alley.
The girl walked quickly, unaware she was no longer alone. Her steps were light, hurried, purposeful. She never looked back.
The alley narrowed, shadows deepened, and lanterns became sparse. Coal was darker than Dust from the soot that coated its streets, yet it was more orderly, with fewer patrols and more places to hide.
She reached the end, turned another corner. I followed at a steady pace, keeping distance so she could not hear my steps. The noise from the streets faded behind us, leaving only the sound of our movement on the stone path.
Children did not move through districts like this without reason. Soon, she would lead me somewhere important.
And if that somewhere included Sera Bale, then the search would finally end. Tonight, I intended to finish it.