Chapter 26 End Of The First Round
Vincent looked between the two of us, slowly absorbing it. Then his eyes widened. “The chapel. Right now. Before anyone else gets there.”
I nodded and stood.
But Vincent didn’t move.
He stared at the parchment, at the glowing symbol, then at us. His bravado was gone for the first time, leaving something raw.
“I don’t want to fail,” he said quietly.
Melanie flinched, barely noticeable, but her expression cracked with it.
“We won’t,” I said firmly. “We found the map. We found the meaning. And we’re finishing this together.”
For a moment, no one moved.
Then Vincent inhaled sharply, slapped his hand on the plinth, and barked, “Alright then. Let’s go.”
We began running, past the courtyard, the hourglass was already halfway drained. White sand continued its merciless descent.
Melanie led us through the western passage, her steps strangely certain for someone who always shrank from attention. She kept glancing behind her shoulder, not at us, but at the empty corridor stretching behind.
“Someone’s following,” she whispered.
“Who?” I asked.
She didn’t answer, but Vincent did.
“Cordelia,” he muttered. “Jamie. And that… what’s-his-face. Marcus. The tiny raw nerve with glasses.”
I didn’t want to believe it, but when we reached the Chapel, I heard it, the soft hush of shoes against stone, too careful, too calculated to be coincidence.
“Keep moving,” I ordered.
We slipped through the crooked archway that led to the old chapel grounds. Most students avoided this place. Its roof had partially collapsed decades ago, leaving jagged beams and sections of stained glass shattered on the ground. The air always felt colder here.
“There.” Melanie pointed at the chapel door, iron-bound, dust-coated, half-sunken into shadow.
The map’s glowing symbol burned behind my eyes. This was right. It had to be.
Vincent was the first to grab the handle. “Well,” he drawled. We spun around, “isn’t this interesting.”
Jamie Morven stepped out from behind a column, wearing the grin of someone who had been waiting for this moment.
Cordelia slid beside him, smiling with all her teeth. Her eyes flicked from the parchment in my hand to my face, and she smirked like she already knew the ending.
And behind them stood Marcus, small, quiet, anxious Marcus, fidgeting with the hem of his sleeves, eyes fixed on the ground.
Vincent lifted his fists. “I swear to God, Jamie, if you—”
“Relax,” Jamie said, raising both palms like a lazy saint. “We just wanted to watch your little team-building activity. Really inspirational stuff.”
Cordelia chuckled. “Adorable, actually.”
Melanie stepped closer to me, trembling. Jamie’s eyes landed on her, lingering with a knowing glint.
“You,” he said. “Little Penrose. Always hiding. Always scared. I bet you told them everything. Pathetic.”
Melanie stiffened, her breath catching, but she said nothing.
“Move aside,” I snapped. “We found the clue. We’re getting the Quill.”
Jamie arched a brow, then leaned casually against the crumbled wall.
“No,” he said. “You’re not.”
His voice dropped.
“Because we’re getting it first.”
Vincent lunged, but Cordelia was faster. She darted forward, grabbed a handful of his shirt, and slammed him into the chapel wall with shocking strength. The sound echoed like a gunshot.
“Try that again,” she whispered, “and I’ll break your nose.”
I moved to pull her away, but Jamie blocked me, stepping directly into my path.
“Ah-ah,” he murmured. “Don’t make this worse, Lexie.”
Behind them, Marcus hovered, breathing fast, fingers shaking. His eyes kept flicking to the chapel door, then back to the ground.
Jamie reached behind him, grabbed the chapel door handle, and pulled.
The door opened.
They planned this.
Jamie smirked at my expression. “Better luck next round.”
He slipped inside.
Cordelia shoved Vincent aside and followed.
And then Marcus, quiet, eager Marcus, hesitated only a heartbeat before rushing in after them.
Melanie made a small, choked sound.
“Lexie,” she whispered. “We’re losing.”
“No,” I said.
I grabbed the parchment and ran through the door.
The chapel was dim, lit only by slanted beams of gold spilling through the fractured ceiling. Dust drifted like winter ash. Rows of abandoned pews stretched before us, twisted and broken. In the center of the room stood a raised stone lectern, and on it, under a shaft of cold sunlight…
A golden quill.
Its feathers shimmered, trembling like it sensed our presence.
Jamie was already sprinting toward it.
“Move!” Vincent shouted, barreling after him.
The chapel erupted into chaos. Cordelia grabbed Vincent again, slamming him into a pew so hard it splintered. Melanie froze, eyes locked on the quill. Jamie reached the lectern first, but he faltered at the last moment as sunlight intensified around the quill, blinding bright.
“It burns,” he hissed, stumbling back.
Melanie’s eyes widened. “Light. It reacts to the—”
“We don’t have time!” Vincent bellowed.
I sprinted forward.
Cordelia threw herself at me, but Melanie did something none of us expected.
She shoved Cordelia aside. Hard.
Cordelia hit the floor with a vicious snarl.
Melanie whispered, almost breathless, “Go, Lexie.”
I reached the lectern, sunlight blazing against my skin.
The quill wasn’t reacting to the truth.
It was reacting to hesitation.
Jamie hesitated.
Cordelia hesitated.
Vincent rushed.
I…
My hand touched the quill, but another hand slammed into mine.
Marcus.
He had sprung from nowhere, his fear replaced with a desperate determination I had never seen on him.
“Marcus!”
He pushed me aside, not violently, but with astonishing certainty, and snatched the quill from the beam of sunlight.
The light dimmed instantly.
He held it.
Jamie ‘s face dropped. Cordelia’s jaw dropped. Vincent cursed loudly enough to echo through the rafters.
Melanie froze.
Marcus clutched the quill to his chest, trembling, eyes shining with something fierce and new, something that had been trapped inside him for years.
“I… I got it,” he whispered.
Then louder.
“I GOT IT!”
Jamie lunged toward him, rage contorting his face, but the chapel bells rang, deep and thunderous.
The hourglass had emptied.
The Trial of Wit was over.
And Marcus Vane had won.