8. The house without windows. Kaiden.

Anna slipped out of the bedroom, leaving me with the bitter aftertaste of failure and resentment. 

Warmth. Scent. Her.

And that foreign trace lingering on her dress draped over the chair. Kiron's ghost. Anger vibrated through me like a plucked string. 

Did I want to punish her? Yes. I was furious. At her recklessness. At the way she keeps slipping away into champagne, into rage, into him. Furious that I couldn't control any of it. Her. The situation.

Did I have the right? Zero. Absolute fucking zero.

I'd acted like a cornered animal. Grabbed. Pinned. Locked us both in that room. Pure instinct. The raw, primal terror of losing her. Again. And that made me even angrier. At myself. At her. At this goddamn cursed ball.

She gets to choose. That's the fact. Her life. Her body. Her risks. But her recklessness... it doesn't just endanger her. It burns everything down. Her safety. My chance to complete the mission. Our chance at... what? Whatever we had before? 

Damn it.

Nausea rolls through me—at myself, at the brutality, at the realization that I just became a threat worse than Kiron. At least he's an open enemy. Me? I was supposed to be her shield. Instead, I gripped her like a jailer. 

I need to fix this. Now. Before the heat of her skin under my hands, where I held instead of held on to her, fades. I dress. Fast. In case she throws me out immediately. Words...what words? 

"Sorry" is empty. 

"I was scared" is an excuse. 

"I love you" would sound like mockery now. 

I stepped into the living room and found there chaos. The wreckage of her fury everywhere. But no Anna. 

Then noise from the study. 

I moved toward it, my heart a stone in my chest. Braced for her coldness, her anger, her tears. 

"Anna?" my voice scraped raw. 

She turned. 

Not cold. Not angry. 

Alight.

Her eyes were just like in the beginning, when she'd unravel things, when the world was a puzzle she couldn't resist solving. The cryptex in one hand. The bracelet in the other. 

"Shh! Not now!" her whisper burned. "I've got it."

She pressed the pendant into the cryptex's groove. A perfect fit. 

The click of the lock releasing was deafening in the silent study. 

A click.

My heart didn't shatter. It plunged into icy void. 

Time's up.

While the cryptex was locked, I had an excuse to stay. To guard. To search with her. Now... Now we're one step closer to the truth. To the documents. To the reason I came back. To fulfilling my duty. 

To the end of us. 

Unless— 

My thoughts raced. Unless I find a way— Unless she—

Then my gaze caught on her wrist. The invisible marks left by my fingers. 

Who am I now, to ask for "unless"?

I stepped forward before she could lose herself in the mechanism again. Covered her hands, that were still clutching the cryptex, with mine. My touch careful but unyielding. Voice low, strained, but steady. 

"Anna. We need to talk. Now."

"Kaiden, I did it!" her eyes blazed with triumph.

I exhaled, steeling myself to speak words that would likely extinguish the fire in her eyes. 

"Before you open it—" my fingers tightened gently around hers, "—let me explain."

She shook her head impatiently. Hair cascaded over her face until she huffed and tossed it back with a sharp jerk. 

"Don't. I get it." 

"No, Anna," I didn't let her pull away. Not now. "I have no right to decide for you, what you do or how you do it. And the thought that I could ever 'punish' you for anything—"

She stubbornly avoided my gaze as I spoke. 

"Apology accepted,"*she finally muttered, impatient. 

"Wait," my thumb brushed her cheek, hesitant. "I haven't even asked for forgiveness yet. You're... the most important person to me. Your safety—I don't want you taking reckless risks. I don't... I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you. Forgive me. For today. For my words. For what I—" A ragged breath. "—for what I did in bed."

A silent nod. I closed my eyes, pressing my forehead to hers. 

"Forgive me..."

After allowing me a few moments of quiet closeness, she finally stepped back, slipping out of my grasp and I didn't resist. 

"Do you know the combination yet?" I asked, shifting my gaze to the damned cryptex in her hands. 

Anna latched onto the new topic with visible relief. The awkwardness of my confession still hung heavy between us. 

"I have a guess."

She was in a hurry to escape me, settling at her father's desk and angling the cryptex under the dim glow of the desk lamp. I kept my distance. 

Her fingers flew over the rings, twisting them with practiced ease. 

"Look," she beckoned, and I sat beside her. "It's unexpectedly simple. Align the grooves..." her hands worked deftly until the patterns on the rings merged into a single image. A smile lit up her face as she held the cryptex out to me. "You open it!"

Could I take this as a peace offering? 

Accepting the cylinder, I carefully pulled one end. It gave way smoothly, revealing an intricately carved piece inside, shaped like an ornate key. 

"Is this a key?"

"Yep," she bit her lip, barely containing her excitement. "And I know what the 'house without windows' from Dad's letter is."

I never doubted her. Anna had clearly been dissecting the cryptic message with clues only she could decipher. 

"We're going on a trip!"

Surprise. I'd been expecting a hidden lab, a secret vault in the library, or maybe a chest buried in the garden. 

"A trip?"

"Better pack your hiking boots, Mr. Williams."

"You mean an actual trek? Backpacks and all?"

"Absolutely!" her eyes sparkled as she spoke. "We've got some wilderness to explore."

Dawn hadn't even broken yet, the sky still clinging to its pre-morning gloom, when we started packing the tent, supplies, and sleeping bags. 

"We're taking this much? Planning to camp for a week?"

Anna shot me a glare from under her brow, unimpressed. 

"There's no such thing as overprepared." She stuffed a cloth-wrapped loaf of bread and dried meat into her backpack with deliberate precision. 

"Says the queen of improvising her way into irreversible disasters." 

"One more word," she warned, voice dripping with enough venom to drop a ferret mid-leap, "and I'll leave you behind. You can sit at home chewing your nails, worrying how poor little me will survive without my protector."

"...Noted."

I decided to retreat to the stove and make breakfast. A journey like this required proper fuel.

As I stirred oatmeal, Anna finished packing, after all, she was the expert on wilderness survival. My own field experience had mostly been short, light trips. I was rarely sent on extended missions outside the city and my latest task had always been to gather intel on Demare's work. Part of me desperately wanted to delay our departure. 

Anna soon returned to the kitchen, dressed in sturdy pants, a practical shirt, and a pair of rugged boots. She tossed two jackets onto a chair and one was clearly meant for me. 

"You can't hike through the woods in a coat," she explained, catching my puzzled look. "It was Father's. Should fit you."

"Thanks."

That quiet care again. Care I didn't deserve. 

I returned to breakfast, dishing out the oatmeal topped with nuts and dried berries. Anna attacked her food like a starved animal. By the time I poured coffee, she'd already demolished most of her portion. 

"What's the rush? Doubt your treasure will vanish while you chew."

I eyed her devouring the bread and meat in three bites. 

"You stingy or something?"

"Your stomach's the one I pity."

Another warning glare. We finished eating in silence. Anna shoved the tent-laden backpack at me, keeping the smaller one for herself. 

We stepped outside as the sun draped its first gauzy light over the eastern treetops. The air bit with damp cold, moisture clinging to skin. Ominous clouds promised more rain, which was absolutely not ideal for trekking through wilderness. With zero clue where we were headed, I trailed Anna in silence. She patted her pack's pocket—cryptex, letter, compass—then locked the front door. 

Through the gates, we turned toward the carriage station. The streets were still empty at this hour. Anna picked the most exhausted-looking driver, quietly haggled over the price, and gestured for me to follow her to the carriage. 

We settled onto the back seat, backpacks at our feet. The driver climbed into the cab, yawned, and lazily hovered his hands over the control panel's power circles. The stone flared and the carriage shuddered to life, rolling smoothly over the cobblestones. 

I didn't ask questions. 

Soon, we left Visglover's outskirts behind, brick and stone giving way to dirt roads, then small farms with patchwork fields stretching to the horizon. 

The carriage dropped us at the last cluster of houses before the tree line that was the threshold of true wilderness. Anna climbed out, stretched, then hoisted her pack onto her shoulders, adjusting the straps with practiced ease. I followed. 

As the carriage rattled away, I eyed the dense woods ahead. 

"So... into the forest now?" 

"Exactly." She nodded and strode toward the waiting trees.

The trail narrowed gradually. The cuffs of my pants grew damp from dew clinging to the withered grass. Anna moved with a spring in her step, striding uphill while scanning our surroundings. 

The moment we stepped beneath the tree canopy, the spicy scent of autumn forest enveloped us. A few trees still clung stubbornly to their remaining leaves, but most had already shed, forming a brittle carpet that crackled underfoot. Dark green pines stood out starkly against the skeletal branches. 

Anna clearly knew this route. She led us confidently along a barely visible path deeper into the woods. At first, the relatively clear forest floor allowed easy passage, but after a couple hours of nonstop hiking, I found myself stumbling more often, snagging on gnarled roots, sinking into animal burrows, tripping over hummocks. 

By midday, even Anna's energy waned. We made camp on a small clearing near a shallow stream trickling between mossy stones. 

"Tired?" Anna challenged, taking a swig from her canteen before tossing it to me. 

"No." 

She smirked but didn't call me out. 

"So what is this 'house without windows'?"

"Wouldn't want to spoil the surprise." Her eyes gleamed. "If it's still how I remember, you'll love it. A real adventurer's treasure." 

"At least give me a hint."

"It's a very, very old place." She tilted her head, biting back a grin. 

"That's it?" 

"Use your imagination, buddy." 

I winced at the ridiculous nickname. We scarfed down dried fruit and set off again. 

"Just tell me how much longer?"

"We'll be there by tomorrow afternoon. Or evening, if you keep snail-pacing us." 

She leapt over the stream and plunged into yet another thicket, navigating the dense undergrowth with practiced ease. 

"How many times have you been here?" 

"Definitely not my first or second trip." Her voice carried a breathless lilt from the brisk pace. "Father used to bring me here periodically. Good times."

By evening, we'd covered what felt like twelve kilometers. Rain began seeping through the bare branches, distant thunder rumbling, though the towering pines still shielded us for now. 

"We should find a place to camp," I suggested. 

Anna scanned the area, checking her compass. "If I remember right, we should reach a ravine soon. There's a good spot there." 

She was correct. We made it to the cliff's edge just before sunset. I set up the tent while Anna paced the perimeter. I paused mid-hammer to watch: she was using her blood to trace protective circles around our campsite. 

"What are you doing?" 

"Camouflage." 

"I can see that. Why with your blood?" 

Again. Leaving traces. Of herself. Never considering the consequences. 

"It's more reliable this way. The barrier won't let any living thing through except me."

"Anna—" I grabbed her wrists and pulled her close. "Please. Stop using blood magic." 

"Why? It's safe."

"Don't be so sure."

"This will hide us from any prying eyes, even if they're right outside camp." 

"Who'd even be looking for us in this wilderness?" 

"You never know." 

I sighed and stepped back. 

Her protective dome shielded us from both watchers and the rain. I finished setting up the tent while she worked. Together we lit a fire, reheating the sausages and potatoes we'd brought, burying them in the embers to warm through. 

Our conversation was cautious, like treading on thin ice, carefully avoiding sharp topics. 

Yet when we lay down to sleep, she let me hold her. Let me pull her close against me. 

If only we could stay like this forever.

In the morning we carefully tidied the campsite. I erased our tracks with a couple of sigils, making sure the ground looked undisturbed. Then we set out again. After that quiet night when I'd held her in my arms, I was afraid to disturb the fragile truce we'd established. Yet once again, neither of us voiced what weighed heaviest on our hearts.

The dense undergrowth gradually gave way to nearly bare ground carpeted with pine needles beneath slender pines. After another hour of walking, even the pines yielded to low shrubs. The forest released us from its embrace, handing us over to rolling hills. Anna took out her compass again, set our course, and hurried down into the hollow between the hills. After skirting a couple of them, we slowed our pace.

My stomach growled, announcing it was time to stop. Not now. Anna quickened her pace. I hurried after her, nearly colliding when she suddenly froze before two massive boulders. 

Puzzled, I watched as she crouched and began tearing away dried vines and patches of yellowed grass. She kept at it until our eyes met a square metal door with a round wheel-handle and nearly faded symbols, perhaps "BN-04." 

"This is it?" 

"It is." Anna nodded, placing her hands on the latch. 

It didn't budge. I held back, waiting for her to ask for help. She yanked the stuck wheel, then applied a sigil to increase air pressure and loosen the parts. The rusted mechanism only groaned in protest. Anna stepped back, biting her lip, considering other options. 

"May I?" 

"By all means." She gave a mocking bow.

I started by casting a heating sigil over the entire door, letting the flames work for a couple minutes. The steel glowed red-hot. Then I switched to a cooling sigil and the metal groaned again under the sudden temperature change. A bit of physical force, and the handle finally gave way. I heaved the massive door open, swinging it aside. 

"Whatever would I do without you?" 

"Study physics."

"Don't get cocky." 

Anna snorted. We both peered into the darkness beyond the doorway. Stale, icy air seeped out from the gaping hole. 

"What's down there?" 

"Let's find out." 

"I'll go first." 

She huffed but stepped aside. I cast a light sigil on the wall near the entrance. The dim glow revealed an old metal staircase. I descended carefully, testing each step before shifting my weight. When my feet finally touched solid ground, I called up to her: 

"Come on down." 

The air below was much colder than outside, an icy draft cutting through the narrow corridor with its low ceiling. 

"So this is where you and your father spent your holidays?" 

"Better than endless tea parties with noble girls," Anna smirked and shrugged. 

She ran her hand along the wall until she found a small lever. Drawing an electricity sigil around it. That was not the usual kind for activating mechanisms with power stones, but one that required continuous energy input. She pulled the lever. Before I could ask why, round lamps flickered to life along the walls. 

I'd never seen anything like them: vessels with glowing elements inside. All lighting in the Commonwealth relied on light circles—sigils powered directly by stones. Then I remembered Professor Demare's notes. I'd stumbled across them on his desk back when we still worked together. Blueprints for devices and energy consumption calculations that didn't use magic. Instead they used something like external resources and power generators. 

"Anna, what is this place?" 

"A vault of the Precursors." 

"Precursors?" 

"Father believed this was built in an era before humans learned to wield magic."