Syrin stayed in the living room for the rest of the day, writing things out and glowing. I’d come in, and he’d be tracing symbols in the air. By sunset, he was still there working.

  Mom demanded that he sleep. “Maybe it will come to you if you stop trying to force it,” Mom insisted when he immediately protested.

  In the end, Mom won.

  I woke the next morning to Syrin plopping down on my bed. I just blinked at him at first because… propriety? Usually, he wasn’t so impulsive. Honestly, it was shocking he wasn’t flaring silver as soon as he hit the bed. Instead, he was… practically bouncing.

  “I figured it out,” he said, like he couldn’t physically hold the words in.

  I blinked at him. “What?”

  “The first piece. The runes to get back. Not the whole spell, but it’s a start.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “So Mom was right?”

  He blushed. “Maybe.”

  Then he pranced out, leaving me staring after him. “I’ll make breakfast,” he called back.

  That got me out of bed immediately. We were not adding house fire to our list of catastrophes this week.

  Mom disappeared into her room as soon as Syrin told her the news. I knew she was calling Abuela the moment she closed the bedroom door and lowered her voice. There were only two people she ever did that for: hospital administrators, and family she didn’t want to worry unnecessarily.

  I sat at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee I’d already forgotten to drink, listening to the muffled rhythm of Spanish through the door. Mom’s voice was calm, measured—the way it always was when she’d already made a decision and was just informing the rest of the universe.

  If Syrin was still around, I might have asked him to translate for me, but after breakfast he’d gone out. Mom had suggested walking around the neighborhood. That maybe a change of view might help him figure out the rest. He was practically out the door before she could finish speaking.

  I wandered out into the living room and turned on a drama I’d started a while ago, but I was only half watching. I grabbed one of my notebooks and started doodling as I listened to the characters argue about wedding guests. It was hard to concentrate on the show or the doodles when every once in a while shadow would flicker at the edge of my vision and my heart would start racing.

  The door down the hall finally opened, and Mom appeared. She leaned against the frame for a second, eyes closed, like she was bracing herself before stepping back into the hall.

  “She’s coming,” Mom said.

  I blinked. She could only mean one person. Abuela. “Already?”

  “She rearranged her schedule,” Mom replied dryly. “Which means she’s worried, even if she pretends she’s not. She’ll be here tomorrow morning. I told her something came up with Torrik. Something that required us both to be in Kirath for a little while.”

  I snorted weakly. “She didn’t beg you for details?”

  Mom’s mouth twitched. “Oh, she did. I told her it wasn’t a big deal. More he-made-a-stupid-decision negotiations than danger.”

  “So, how are we supposed to explain Syrin?”

  Mom grimaced. “All part of the stupid decision.”

  I stared at the notebook in my lap. It wasn’t even entirely untrue. This had all started with Dad dumping Syrin in my lap.

  Mom settled into the armchair. “She’ll check on the house, make sure rent gets paid if needed. Pretend everything is normal.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “So, why is she coming in the morning?”

  Mom sighed. “She wanted to see us off.”

  I held back my grin. I could only imagine that part of the conversation, Mom insisting it was better if Abuela didn’t come and her saying she was coming anyway.

  Mom went quiet. “Trina.” She leaned forward, and I knew the conversation was about to turn serious.

  “Yeah?”

  “When Syrin gets back, we’ll need to plan.” Her voice was measured. “The tower may not be secure. It’s likely we’ll have to leave almost immediately after arriving.”

  That landed like a dropped plate.

  “Leave?” I echoed. “As in escape?”

  “Yes. But the details… you can’t hear those,” she said carefully, “otherwise we might just be walking into a trap.”

  I rubbed my arms, suddenly very aware of the cuffs on my wrists. “So you’re planning behind my back now?”

  Mom shot me a look. “I’m planning around you. There’s a difference.”

  “That’s not comforting.”

  “It’s practical,” she said. “And temporary. Once Syrin treats the infection, you’ll be looped in.”

  I opened my mouth to argue, then shut it again. Because the infection was there, lurking. It was driving me crazy. I couldn’t even guarantee the next action would be my own, so what was stopping me from betraying them?

  By the time Syrin came back, I was already wound tight.

  He didn’t even take his boots off properly, which was very unlike him. He just kicked them aside and headed straight for the living room. His eyes were distant, glow muted. He barely acknowledged me beyond a quick, distracted nod before launching into pacing like the carpet had personally offended him.

  I stayed on the couch, doodling in my notebook.

  For the next hour—or maybe three?—time had stopped behaving normally. Syrin paced, muttered, traced glowing sigils in the air, then muttered some more. Occasionally, the light stopped dead as he wrote, flaring in the air like it had hit an invisible wall, and Syrin would curse.

  Didn’t seem like progress.

  Every so often, Mom and Syrin would go off into her room and plan in whispered voices, and every time they did, something hot and anxious twisted in my chest.

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  Then Syrin would come back and pace.

  I tried to sit quietly. I really did.

  Eventually, I failed.

  “Syrin, what are you going to do when we get to Crithlinor?”

  Syrin paused. “You know I can’t tell you the details.”

  “No,” I pushed. “What are you going to do? Just waltz into the tower and ask them what happened?”

  Syrin froze.

  “Have you even thought about it?” I nudged.

  “Yes,” he said, voice rough.

  “So?”

  He swallowed. “I’m going to find out what happened to my father and cleanse my court, even if I have to do it from the dark.”

  I stared at him. “And you’re ready for that?”

  He looked away. “Doesn’t matter if I am. It needs to be done.”

  His pacing resumed. I just watched. Finally, I couldn’t hold back the question that had really been gnawing at me. “Syrin?”

  He glanced back at me. “Yes?”

  “I know I can’t know the whole plan, but… What if the infection gets worse while we’re there?” I asked.

  Syrin flinched, just slightly.

  “It won’t,” he said automatically. “I’ll fix it.”

  “While we are running through the tower?”

  His pacing paused. “We’ll figure something out,” he said, steps resuming. “I promise. I may be able to block the influence once we get there and I have more control.”

  “But if we are moving closer, will the Nightbound have more control too?”

  Syrin frowned. “I don’t think so.”

  I wrapped my arms around my knees. “But you aren’t sure.”

  “No.”

  “What if I have no control?” My voice rose higher. “What if I attack you, and you have to leave me in the tower?”

  “That won’t happen,” Syrin insisted.

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I—” He exhaled. “I’m working on it.”

  I pushed off the couch, hovering closer. “And what if the Council knows we’re coming?”

  Syrin stopped pacing and turned on me. “Trina.”

  “What?”

  “None of these questions matter if I can’t solve this problem,” he said gently. “And you’re making it hard to think.”

  I crossed my arms. “Sorry for being actively infected by shadow and a little concerned about betrayal and your possibly-dead father.”

  He winced. “That was not what I meant.”

  “Then what did you mean?”

  He hesitated. “Trina. I’m doing this because of the shadow infection. We need to go back as soon as possible, so it doesn’t get worse.”

  “But what if it all falls apart? What if I become something hideous?”

  He sucked in a breath. “I won’t let you become a Nightbound. I’ve told you that. Can you just… trust me on that part?”

  I stared at him. I wasn’t sure if I could trust myself anymore, but… Syrin had never once broken his word, and he knew more about this then I did.

  I gave him a small nod, and he let out a relieved breath. Shadow flickered in my vision, and my heartbeat sped up. I could trust him, right? What if that was what the infection wanted? What if we needed a plan?

  “I’ll trust you,” I blurted, “but what if—”

  “Trina! You are wonderful, but I will not be able to keep that promise if I can’t concentrate now.” He gave me a sharp look, then very deliberately, pointed down the hall. “I need twenty minutes. Alone. Please.”

  I stared at him, offended, and then saw how tight his shoulders were, how carefully contained his glow was, like holding it in place took effort.

  “Fine,” I muttered. “But I’m bringing you food later.”

  He managed a tired half-smile. “I’ll allow it.”

  I retreated to the kitchen, mostly to give him space and partly because if I stayed in that room any longer I was going to explode. My room didn’t seem better. At least in the kitchen I could do something. I cooked out of spite and habit, setting aside a plate for him and trying not to think about what it would mean if this didn’t work.

  When I finally brought the food out, he was mid-pace again, hands in his hair, glow flickering.

  I set the plate down on the table. He glanced at me. I settled onto the couch again and gave him a weak smile.

  His lips at least twitched up this time. I watched him walk from the front door to the windows three times before interpreting gently. “You were so happy this morning. What’s the issue? Is the spell… incomplete?”

  He paused his pacing, rubbing his temple. “No. The issue is that it doesn’t have a target. The Light doesn’t know where it is. It can’t… find itself.”

  I blinked, trying to process that statement. “How does that even work? Like it doesn’t know on a map? But you know where Crithlinor is, right?”

  He shook his head. “I thought it would be easy because my connection to the Light is like a rope leading back, and it is. But it’s more like a rope to Kirath. It’s like looking at a blank globe with no reference points.”

  “So, can we just go to Kirath, and then build a portal there?”

  Syrin grimaced. “It’s too dangerous. We could appear at the bottom of the ocean or hanging in the air.”

  My heart skipped a beat. “You’re saying we could die as soon as we step through.”

  He nodded. “That’s the risk.”

  “And what if we go through my portal, then go to Crithlinor?”

  His face was bleak. “The Light created a makeshift portal to stay connected to me. I’m just taking advantage of it. Obviously, the Light can create portals. I just… don’t know how. That’s an entirely new problem to solve.”

  I blinked. Right. I didn’t totally understand that part, but I got the idea. “So, you need to find where the Light is.”

  Syrin gave a sharp nod.

  “So… is the Light blocked or something?” I asked. “Did someone hide it?”

  He shook his head and started pacing again. “No. The Light struggles with physical concepts sometimes. It knows it exists, and knows where I am, but it doesn’t have an outside awareness on its own. It understands the physical world through me.”

  He paused midstep, looking at me. “Does that make any sense?”

  I nodded, and his pacing resumed.

  “So, the Light is relational basically? People centric?” I asked.

  “Sort of.”

  I frowned thinking. “So, if your father were there—”

  He wilted a little, and I cursed myself. He was trying to think, and here I was distracting him by bringing up his possibly dead father.

  Then Syrin froze, but his glow wasn’t gray. It was more like something had occurred to him.

  “Syrin?”

  He held up a hand for quiet, so I stayed curled on the couch, waiting. The silence was getting to be ridiculously long, and I was debating leaving when Syrin suddenly let out an explosive breath. “I… I think I just figured it out.”

  I froze, my heart beating far too fast. “What?”

  And suddenly he was grinning. His glow went from nonexistent to full-on treasure chest, gleaming gold. He tugged me to my feet from the couch.

  “The way to reverse it,” he said as his arms wrapped around me. “You’re right; it’s all about people.”

  Then suddenly he was spinning me around. I hadn’t ever seen him so… victorious? Joyful? I wasn’t sure what the right word was.

  He’d barely set me down again before he was kissing me. I gasped at the sudden warmth of his lips against mine, and he froze. He was so happy, and I was ruining it.

  I pushed my worries aside for a moment, and let myself melt into the kiss. Syrin relaxed again, leaning into me, more confident than he’d ever been before. When he finally released me, his irises were pure gold.

  “What do you mean you ‘figured it out’?” I asked, a little breathless.

  “I know where the flame is,” he said. “Remember when I said my father started training another Keeper? I felt her. Her connection isn’t strong, but it’s there. And I think if I pull us towards that the Light will understand.”

  “Oh.” I tried to smile, but I couldn’t quite do it.

  “Trina?” His voice was hesitant.

  “Great. That’s amazing.”

  “You…” Syrin’s glow faded. “You’re not happy.”

  “No, I am. I just…” I wasn’t sure how to put it into words.

  His glow shifted to silver. “You… you do want this, right? Or… did you change your mind?” The next words were soft. “About me.”

  He paused. “I’ll understand if you did,” he whispered. “I’ll cure your shadow infection, whatever you choose.”

  “It’s not that!” I grabbed his hand firmly. “I just… things were almost nice here, and I know things will be difficult when we get to Kirath. It’s not you. It’s just…” I looked down at the ground, trying to find the right words. “It’s this whole situation.”

  I let out a long breath. “I’m happy for you. Truly. Just… maybe not for me yet. That doesn’t mean I won’t ever be happy in Crithnon. I just…” I bit my lip. “I guess I’m still figuring things out. Maybe that’s one way I could be more like you.”

  He tilted his head in question.

  I stepped forward, brushing his hair back. “You have all these awful things going on, and you still manage to laugh and be joyful.”

  He looked distressed. “Is that wrong?”

  “No! The opposite. I’m saying I admire that. You’re amazing that way. I usually just deflect. Pretend. And I guess I’m still figuring the whole joy-through-tribulations thing out.”

  Syrin grimaced. “I’m not always good at it.”

  I laughed. “Sorry I made you sad.”

  He hummed, glow flickering back to gold. I stepped over and kissed him softly this time, just a brief brush of our lips.

  Then, I pulled back and put my hands on my hips. This part was nonnegotiable. “I’m coming, and I’m not sitting on the sidelines either. As soon as this infection is gone, I expect these cuffs to come off and to be fully informed of all plans. Deal?”

  His smile was soft, almost sweet. “Deal.”

  I took his hand. The break was over. We were going back to Kirath. This time, I wasn’t alone. I wasn’t running away. But this time, my second home didn’t seem like an escape.

  It felt like a trap.

  END OF VOLUME ONE

  ?? Thank you for reading Volume 1: Between Light and Shadow! ??

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  Volume 2: The Light in Chains on:

  Monday, January 5, 2026

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