OBLIVION

It was said that Oblivion’s architect had declared the prison inescapable. e prison was built on a tiny island in supernaturally rough waters; every cell constructed from oor-to-ceiling of solid iron. Its doors were sealed to open only at the touch of a guard. To test the architect’s claim, the emperor who’d commissioned it had the architect himself imprisoned inside.

He never got out.

Ink chuckled to herself, thinking about the story. Somewhere in there, she supposed, was a moral about being consumed by your life’s work. Most likely spun by someone who’d never worked a day in their lives but still felt the need to lecture others about it.

If it was true, she felt no pity for the architect. If he couldn’t rise above his own creation, that was his own fault, to say nothing of his poor choice of employer.

“High Inquisitive?”

Ink was dragged back to the present by the guard in front of her, who was nervously eyeing the cell she’d requested access to. is one had to be new. Guards who’d spent any real time in Oblivion were well past the point of being afraid of the place.

“Yes, thank you,” she said, waving him o dismissively. “You can go, I’ll call when I’m nished.” e guard shifted nervously, like he was working up the nerve to say something, and Ink felt a wave of dread descend upon her. Hands folded, lips pressed together, she waited, silently daring him to say something.

“It’s against the rules for visitors to be left alone with prisoners.”

Now she knew he was new. Ink gave a sharp inhale, and the guard inched. Ink was beige-skinned with sharp, unnaturally blue eyes and hair that stood out against otherwise rounded features but perfectly matched the softly glowing glyphs on the sleeves of her thin—layered summer robes. She carried herself like a person of power—both the kind that made people listen to her and the kind that could turn people to ash with a ick of her ngers.

“Who dictated these rules to you?” Ink asked.

“ e warden, High Inquisitive.”

“And who does the warden work for?”

“ e . . .” e guard trailed o . To his minimal credit, he gured out where Ink was going with this. Oblivion was operated by the Academy. Its wardens and all personnel under them answered to it. And to all but a very select handful of people, Ink was the Academy. “Good day, High Inquisitive.”

Ink kept her face calm as the guard made a hasty retreat. It was important, she reminded herself, not to get too angry at people for what they didn’t know. Otherwise, she would never not be angry.

A dark chuckle echoed from inside the cell. “You love being in charge, don’t you?” e prisoner was dressed in simple burlap, singed in several places. He was shackled by hand and foot, anchored to the oor with Old World chains. e soft orange glow from his eyes and the stray embers that trailed o his skin and hair lled the dark interior. Even from the outside of the cell, the heat inside was palpable.

“Beats living in chains,” Ink mocked. “Enjoying your stay?”

“What do you want?” Pitch spat.

“Lots of things,” Ink said. “ ere was an old shell sh place by the marina I wish would reopen. Some new perfumes, since mine are all starting to go bad. Somebody else to crack spellforging or to at least get it out of Phoenix. But really, I’ve just had a long week, and I gured seeing you in a cell would make me feel better. And I was right.”

Pitch growled and lunged forward, immediately making his chains go taut as his eyes burned, and his shackles took on a dull red glow. Ink barked a single word in Arcania, and the chains crackled to life with electricity. He fell back to the ground, spasming.

“Down boy.”

Ink didn’t even attempt to hide the satisfaction in her voice.Even through the contortions and twinges from the shock, Pitch’s boiling fury was plain to see. And after all the trouble he’d caused and all the years of hell he’d given her—and Renalt knew how many others—that pointless, impotent rage was delicious to drink in.

“I am going to skin you alive when I get out of here,” Pitch spat. “I’m going to burn you to a crisp and piss on the ashes.”

“No You won’t,” Ink said “You’re going to sit in this cell until I gure out a way to get the Heart of Flames out of you, and then I will leave you to rot in here for the rest of your miserable, pathetic, angry little life. O cially, for all the murders and the assault on Olwin Keep, but mostly so you can nally stop being a pain in the world’s collective ass.”

“You think you’re so hot, don’t you?” he growled. “Little runaway girl, all grown up. I bet this brings back memories. Except now, you get to be the one on the outside of the jail cell.”

Ink’s hand twitched in the beginning motions of a spell before she caught herself. She was the one who got under people’s skin. Not the reverse.

“Except I’ve moved up in the world, while you’ve only gotten more worthless.”

“Don’t pretend you’re better than me,” he retorted “You act like you rose above. Like you stuck it to the world and now you’re the head bitch in charge. But you haven’t risen above shit.”

“When I left the Cord of Aenwyn, they begged me to stay,” Ink said. “ ey threw you out on the street like a rabid dog. And now you’re in prison and I own the keys.”

“And you love your job so much, you had to come visit me to feel better about yourself,” Pitch prodded. “What happened? Is the Principal of Magic School being mean to you? Or is it hitting you that after fteen years of running, you’re still just somebody else’s little servant?”

Ink almost took the bait, almost dove into a defense of her life and how she was not and would never be anyone’s servant. But she had nothing to prove here. eir situations spoke for themselves.

“You know, you’re absolutely right. I’m incredibly dissatis ed with my life, and you’ve cut me to my very core,” she said, every syllable stitched with sarcasm. “When I go home, I will sob into my warm dinner and silk sheets, unable to think about anything other than how much better o you are than me, eating rats and shitting in a bucket. Which doesn’t look that full. I’ll be sure to tell the guards they don’t need to clean it out.”

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

“Goodbye, Pitch.”

“Fuck you!”

He may have sucked some of the fun out this visit, but that was the only victory he was going to get from her. With a ick of her ngers, she shut the door slot behind her.

“Hey! Don’t walk away from me! Ink!” e thought put a smile on her face. e warden was waiting for her on the way out. A tall, broad-shouldered man with no hair and a name she didn’t bother learning.

His voice echoed through the halls of the prison, hounding her, and she smiled as his frustration grew. She was done here.

She called the guard back and graciously accepted the escort out of the cell block. He was still nervous, but now he was as scared of Ink as he was of the prison.

“I trust your inspection went well, High Inquisitive?” the warden asked. Ink seamlessly slipped into the lie of her o cial excuse. “Oh yes. You run a tight ship here,Warden.I’ll be happy to return to the Academy knowing our most important project is in safe hands.”

Her sentence was punctuated by a broad smile from the warden and a sudden ickering of the lightstone in the room. ere was a thud that reverberated through the walls and then a slow, building din of noise coming from the cellblocks.

Ink’s own polite, practiced smile vanished. “Provided you can explain that.” e warden went pale and frantically slapped the shoulder of the closest guard. “I’m sure it’s just a storm. We see quite a few of them in this region. I’ll send someone to con rm it; you don’t have to—”

Ink was already moving, grabbing her escort by the wrist and using his hand to open the seals on the doors as she made her way toward the commotion that was only growing louder by the second. e warden followed behind her, spinning desperate lies and reassurances she could see through without even looking the man in the eye. When she got back to the Academy, she was going to have him red.

Alarm horns began to sound, con rming what she’d already been dreading. Escape attempt.

“High Inquisitive, I must insist that you—” is time, the warden was interrupted by a haggard guard sprinting into the room, gasping for breath. e guard nearly ran face rst into them before Ink grabbed her by the shoulders, halting her in her tracks.

Recognition replaced panic on the guard’s face. “High Inquisitive! Warden!”

“What happened?” Ink demanded. ere was an explosion in the cellblock. She got free, started killing the guards and breaking open cell doors.” e guard answered, fear in her eyes. “Kurien.”

“Who?” Ink asked.

Kurien. Of all the people locked away in Oblivion, it had to be to her. Even Ink’s blood went cold.

“ at’s impossible!” the warden shouted, even as he was ignored. “Her cell is warded against every conceivable means of escape!”

“How many are loose?” Ink asked, trying to get a grasp on the situation.

“ at’s just it, ma’am,” the guard said. “All of them.”

Everyone in the room fell silent. Ink felt her legs shake for a second underneath her until she forced them to steady. Every prisoner in Oblivion was loose. ey didn’t need panic. ey needed action. She started giving orders. Establish a perimeter on the cellblock. Get archers positioned to watch the coast. Call the mainland for immediate reinforcement. e warden tried protesting early on before Ink made it very clear that this was her prison now. When everyone had their orders, she personally marched back into the cellblock to bring the situation under control. e halls were chaos, full of everything from undead mutants to shapeshifting putty monsters. ey had to cut through plant roots as thick as trees and as hard as iron. Subdue mind-controlled guards rioting even more ercely than some of the inmates. Extinguish res that moved like living things.

In the end, it took a full day and a hundred lives to restore order to Oblivion. Academy mages, royal soldiers, and even the knights of the Seven Gates themselves all had to be called in. Dozens of prisoners—the most dangerous men, women, and monsters to curse Corsar with their lives—were unaccounted for. And Ink, at the end of it all, was left staring at a massive hole where Pitch’s cell used to be. is was going to cause problems.