Chapter Eighty-Eight: Last Minute

  It was just two days until the Midnight Festival, and they had to buckle down and get serious about the preparations.

  A buzz had swept across campus ever since the Society of Dionysus had thrown their full support behind the event being hosted in the Fields Below, turning the preparations into a full-blown frenzy. Jace might have backed out—time was tighter than ever—but now there was no turning back. Everyone was planning to show up at midnight in two days.

  They needed to spend every waking moment on preparations—buckets of Flavor Saver, food coordination, decorations, everything. With how much time they’d all be down there, there was something Jace needed to do, someone Jace needed to talk to.

  After laying it all out, Jace had given her the space to consider it in her own time. It might’ve helped that, earlier, she’d quietly spent a few hours crouched behind a potted plant, watching them interact from a safe distance. There was something unexpectedly reassuring about the way his friends bickered—how they stumbled through disagreements, patched things up, and kept each other afloat despite their flaws. It wasn’t perfect, but it was real. And maybe that was enough. After a stretch of silence, her gaze softened, and with a slow, almost hesitant nod, she gave her answer.

  “If you want,” Jace said gently, “you can always come back here. And if the party gets to be too much, this room will be yours for the night. No one will bother you, I promise. I’ll make sure it’s off-limits.”

  She nodded.

  “Are you ready to meet them?” he asked, his eyes searching hers.

  Shadow’s gaze moved, flickering briefly over the soft-painted sky, before settling back on him. She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she stood still, the magic wind tousling her hair, her eyes deep with thought. Then, with the kind of shaky confidence that only comes from stepping into the unknown, she nodded—like a child bracing for their first day of school.

  Jace decided to introduce everyone one at a time, bringing them individually to her home in the Catacombs. The upgrades had changed the place dramatically since the last time he was there.

  Now, it barely resembled a catacomb at all. The ceiling, once a heavy, brooding mass of stone, had become a bright sky, magically painted in swirling hues of lavender and blue. Tall grass covered the ground, shifting softly in an invisible breeze, while wisps floated and glimmered like spirits on the wind. It felt ethereal, like a lost elven forest—a place suspended somewhere between dreams and reality.

  It was the perfect home for Shadow.

  She stood there, bare feet sinking slightly into the soft earth, her presence as much a part of this mystical landscape as the swaying grass and the luminous sky. Jace approached her, heart pounding slightly against his ribs. He moved closer, his voice gentle, careful, as if his words might shatter the fragile moment.

  Jace swallowed, his heart easing a fraction. He decided to start with Alice. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt the most nervous about this introduction. Maybe it was because he wanted Shadow to like her, to find a kindred spirit in Alice’s calm presence.

  Alice was waiting at the entrance, a look of understanding in her eyes as Jace led her into the Catacombs. She didn’t ask questions, didn’t react with surprise at the transformation of the place—she merely followed, her eyes softening as they took in the dreamlike landscape, her steps gentle on the grass. When her gaze fell on Shadow, she didn’t look to Jace for explanation. She simply smiled, her eyes crinkling in a quiet warmth that only deepened as she approached.

  Jace hung back, his breath caught in his throat as he watched. Alice stopped a few paces away, letting the silence settle between them. Then, she knelt down, fingers brushing the ground until they found a small wildflower. She plucked it, her movements careful, and held it out to Shadow. No words, no expectations—just a flower, an invitation.

  Shadow hesitated, her gaze flitting to Jace for a brief moment before drifting back to Alice. And then she moved, her fingers reaching out, her touch barely grazing Alice’s as she took the flower. Slowly, she tucked it behind her ear, a shy smile touching her lips.

  Alice’s smile widened, the same quiet warmth in her eyes as she nodded, taking a step back, giving Shadow the space to decide the pace. Jace let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Somehow, it felt like a fragile bridge had been built—delicate, but there, spanning the space between Shadow and the rest of them.

  Shadow didn’t speak, but there was something in her posture, a softening that hadn’t been there before, and Alice seemed to recognize it. She glanced at Jace, a flicker of understanding passing between them—no surprise, no questions, just acceptance. Jace could only smile back, grateful for Alice’s patience.

  Maybe, just maybe, this was how the world could open up for Shadow—one gentle, quiet step at a time.

  He chose to leave Marcus alone for now—Marcus had made it clear he needed these two days to himself. The group didn’t question it; he hadn’t exactly left any space for them to do so.

  Next, Jace brought in Ell. She followed him into the Catacombs, her usual energy toned down, though still vibrant enough to make Shadow take a half-step back. Ell caught herself, and gave a small, warm wave instead of her usual exuberance. “Hey there,” she said, her voice softer, smiling in a way that wasn’t overwhelming. Shadow watched her, cautious but curious, and after a long pause, returned the wave. Ell let out a breath, her smile growing. It wasn’t perfect, but it was progress, and Jace felt a weight lift off his shoulders.

  Dex was next. He approached casually, as if there was no reason for tension at all. He glanced up at the ceiling, admiring the swirling sky above. “Nice place,” he remarked, giving Shadow a nod without any expectation. “I’m Dex.” He kept it simple, offering nothing more, and just waited. Shadow didn’t say anything, but she didn’t look away either, her gaze lingering on him with an unreadable expression. It was enough, Jace thought—Dex had a way of making things easy without trying, and that seemed to work.

  Molly was the last to step forward. She offered no words; words were clumsy things, too blunt for what she had to say. Instead, she moved. Her hands rose like the promise of dawn, her feet gliding softly over the grass, each step deliberate, a quiet communion with the earth.

  Jace and the others watched, bewildered, unsure if they were witnessing a ritual or a memory being relived.

  Each gesture seemed to live within her, like a ripple passing through water, flowing from her shoulders down to her hips, her arms carving slow arcs through the air. Her legs moved with a kind of gentle precision, a grace that spoke in hushed tones. It was almost a dance, but not for spectacle—each sway, each shift fell into a secret rhythm only she could hear, something ancient and soft as the soil beneath her feet. The grass seemed to lean into her, the blades bending willingly under her bare soles, as though they, too, understood the language she spoke in silence.

  Shadow’s eyes lit up, watching Molly’s silent rhythm. For a moment, her own body seemed frozen, then it responded like a chord struck to resonate, her feet lifting, her arms following, her hands mimicking Molly’s in graceful arcs. The two moved together, an unspoken choreography—steps crossing over the grass, fingers trailing through the air, weaving meaning in silence. It was a language that flowed easily between them, carried by the swaying of their bodies -the subtle shifting of their weight, the delicate way their forms mirrored each other.

  Jace watched, spellbound, as Shadow’s rigid stance softened, the tension uncoiling from her shoulders. Her body seemed to lighten, each movement growing fluid as though she were learning to breathe again. She matched Molly’s rhythm seamlessly, their silent dance becoming something shared—a conversation in motion.

  They moved like reflections, a dance of understanding that needed no words. For the first time, Shadow seemed truly free, her usual sharpness melting into something softer. This was what she had needed most: a connection that reached beyond language, a communion that asked nothing but presence.

  And then, without warning, they both stopped. Shadow looked at Molly, something profound flickering in her gaze. Molly returned the stare, her eyes wide, serious for just a heartbeat longer. It could have ended there—something sacred, still, a moment suspended.

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  But instead, a grin tugged at the corner of Molly’s mouth, and then Shadow’s lips twitched, and that was all it took. Laughter broke between them like a dam burst.

  Shadow fell back, collapsing into the grass, Molly following in kind. They laughed until they were breathless, tangled in the green beneath them, their joy rising into the air, bright and clear. Jace couldn’t help but smile, feeling the heaviness of everything lift, even just a little, with their shared, unrestrained laughter.

  The others could only stare at Molly, dumbfounded.

  “How?” was all Jace could manage.

  “Everyone speaks if you know the language,” Molly said, glancing at them. “And she’s fluent in Voiceless—a language of spirits who’ve lost their ability to speak. I saw her speaking it when you were talking with her.” She paused, then added matter-of-factly, “She has quite the potty mouth, too.”

  They kept staring at Molly, speechless.

  “What? You didn’t know?” Molly grinned, one eyebrow arching playfully.

  “So, she’s been trying to talk to me this whole time?”

  Shadow’s hands flowed with a graceful rhythm, her eyes glinting with mischief. Molly burst into laughter, her smile growing wider. “She says,” Molly translated through her laughter, “that Jace kind of looks like a startled chicken right now. And, oh, that he really needs to lighten up.”

  A ripple of smiles spread across the group.

  Molly’s smile never faded as she spoke without speaking. “It’s a fascinating thing; a sort of ghost sign language,” she said to Jace, her gaze still fixed on Shadow, her hands moving in tandem. “She knows it better than I do,” Shadow responded with fluid gestures, her eyes focused and bright. Molly laughed again, nodding in response. Their exchange was silent, yet rich with meaning. Jace realized then, that for all the time he had spent with Shadow, there were still vast parts of her he hadn’t yet glimpsed. And maybe, just maybe, this was the beginning of her letting more of those hidden worlds be seen.

  ***

  They had one day left. Reginald hovered near the cauldron, his ghostly form flickering with a sour expression that could curdle milk. His translucent arms were crossed, and his glare was aimed squarely at Jace, who was elbow-deep in potion-making.

  “What’s with the face, Reg?” Jace asked, not even looking up, a grin tugging at his lips. “You look like someone stole your ectoplasm.”

  Reginald huffed, the sound echoing as if it were pulled from another plane entirely. “Mount Olympus on a cracker, no, kid, it’s not some grand ghostly dignity thing,” he groused, waving a hand as if to swat away the very idea. “This just sounds like extra work for me. You know, the guy who has to clean up after whatever cosmic dumpster fire you’re starting here.”

  Jace gave a snort of laughter, sprinkling a pinch of silver dust into the brew. “Oh, come on. Think of it as an adventure. Besides, doesn’t the afterlife get, I dunno, boring?”

  “Yeah, nothing says excitement like cleaning up potion explosions,” Reginald shot back, rolling his spectral eyes. “And do I look bored to you? I got crosswords and cable reruns in The Great Beyond, thank you very much. I’m living the dream—if you count being dead as living.”

  The rest of the group trickled into the room, casting cautious glances at the grumpy specter. Dex was the first to break the silence, giving Reginald a half-hearted salute. “Hey, Reg. Looking particularly ghostly today. Extra translucent, really.”

  “Save the flattery, junior,” Reginald grumbled, his form wavering as he moved closer to the cauldron. “I don’t need cheerleaders, I need you not making a mess.”

  Alice grinned, leaning on the table. “Come on, Reg. It won’t be that bad. Besides, I think you secretly like the chaos. Gives you something to complain about.”

  For the last two days, every hour she wasn’t in the Fields Below, Alice had pored over every page of the library’s restricted section, her eyes scanning until they stung, relentlessly chasing the trail of Hades’ cryptic clue.

  She persisted, hour by stolen hour, piecing together the fragments. She wished her tome-copying ability would work—normally her spellbook allowed her to create perfect duplicates of any text, inscribing it into the infinite pages of her tome. But the Book of Demons had an enchantment far beyond her usual magic, one that blocked any direct transcription. So she’d have to do it the old-fashioned way—the really old-fashioned way—ink, quill, and patience.

  Jace’s task was as grand as it was tedious—enough of the Flavor Saver to fuel the entire student body. Jace stirred the concoction in massive cauldrons, the thick liquid swirling with an almost hypnotic sheen.

  Fortunately, his latest upgrades let him manage several pots at once, each one dutifully stirring itself with an enchanted ladle. Still, he was beginning to understand why the school chef was always so hard on his utensils—keeping these magical tools in line was an art that required more finesse, and banging, than he’d expected. Which Reginald was more than happy to handle himself.

  The increased quantity dulled the potion’s potency and shortened its duration, but it would last through the night, which was all that mattered.

  It wouldn’t be gourmet cuisine, but it would be a definite upgrade from the usual bland sawdust the students were accustomed to.

  Dex had insisted on helping, though “help” was a generous term. Jace found himself cleaning up after Dex more often than not, but he couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. Nimble with his hands but utterly hopeless at potions, Dex’s presence somehow made the labor less draining. By the time the potion was nearly ready, Dex, Ell, and Jace had all used their Focused EXP points, nudging themselves further up the ranks—Ell and Dex reached Bronze Three, and Jace started his climb towards Bronze Four, the progress small but steady, every bit earned.

  The Fields Below had been transformed for the Midnight Festival, decked out in loudly eerie decor. There were shadowy corners and flickering lights—dark but laced with a sort of grim humor. The aesthetic was all Ell’s doing, with Molly’s assistance. Together, they’d brought a weird charm to the otherwise somber vaults.

  “Think we can trust her?” Dex leaned in close, his voice low as he made a show of sprinkling something mysterious over the cauldron.

  Jace squinted at the so-called addition, catching the unmistakable shape of lotus leaves. “You know, you could actually help instead of just pretending,” he muttered, snatching the leaves from Dex before they could doom the whole concoction. “These would turn the Flavor Saver into a Flavor Destroyer.”

  Dex just grinned, unfazed, his fingers now wandering through the scattered ingredients on the table. He nudged a jar aside, then another, barely paying attention. “I’m talking about Molly. She gives me the creeps, man.”

  Jace shot him a look, his eyes narrowing for a moment before softening. “Molly’s good people. At least, she’s been to me. I think she’s safe. And besides—“

  He broke off, glancing over to where Molly was untangling Shadow from a mess of black and orange streamers, the corners of Molly’s mouth quirking up as Shadow tried her best to look indifferent.

  ”—Shadow seems to trust her,“ Jace finished, a hint of a smile forming. “That’s good enough for me.”

  Dex sighed dramatically, tilting his head.

  Alice hurried down the spiral staircase to the Fields Below, her breath slightly short from excitement. Her wide eyes were bright with something new—a glint of understanding. She held a piece of paper, smudged ink, and hastily scrawled notes covering its surface.

  “I figured it out!” she blurted out, barely waiting for her feet to hit the floor.

  Everyone paused. Ell, halfway through hanging a garland of withered roses, lowered her hands, and Molly tilted her head. Dex, who was pretending to be useful by organizing potion vials, froze mid-reach.

  “What did you figure out?” Jace asked, squinting over the lip of the giant cauldron, curiosity piqued.

  Alice thrust the paper at him. “Here. It’s a plant—a type of flower. It’s decorative, not poisonous to us.” She traced her finger over the messy script. “But when I found this in the book, my deity gave me an EXP burst, and these lines here lit up.”

  Jace took the paper, reading the scribbled lines aloud. “When petal meets brew, demons find themselves unnerved, stomachs turned.”

  Alice nodded, her excitement almost infectious. “I bought as much as I could find.”

  Dex leaned over Jace’s shoulder, peering at the note. “So... what? We just wave flowers at them? Maybe make them a bouquet?”

  “Or,” Alice said, her eyes flicking towards the cauldron, a grin tugging at her lips, “we add it to the brew.”

  Jace straightened up, an immediate frown pulling at his face. “No. It’ll ruin the potion. We worked hard to get this right.”

  Ell gave him a look, one eyebrow arching. Alice mirrored her, their expressions an almost comical mirror of disbelief.

  Jace sighed. “It’s already so watered down... no one’s going to appreciate how good it should’ve been.” He hesitated for a beat, then reluctantly took the bundle of flowers Alice handed him. With a resigned shake of his head, he added the petals to the mix, watching them dissolve into the swirling brew.

  Then, a small cough drew their attention, and they turned to see Molly. Her face, usually hidden behind a mask of blank attentiveness, now bore a look of conflicted determination. As a teacher’s aide, she carried out some of the Archmage’s directives, but there was a sparkle of mischief in her eyes that Jace hadn’t anticipated.

  “As a junior member of the Hero’s Guild, I feel it is my duty,” she began, her voice carrying an edge of formality. She paused, letting the silence stretch just enough to cause a stir of uncertainty among them. Then a slow smile crept across her face. “To ensure you all do this properly. If you’re going to break the rules, we might as well do it with a bit of finesse. Add a touch of oleander and silver. It’ll mask the taste of the flower.”

  They exchanged glances, a smile spreading across the room like a spark caught on dry leaves. Molly, her polished poise unraveling into something more earnest, was shedding her reserve, stepping closer into their circle. With the potion bubbling before them and the Archmage’s instructions to “leave it to the qualified” dissolving into irrelevance, she was no longer merely a teacher’s aide or a junior guild member—in that moment, she was simply one of them.

  Jace watched the group gather around Molly, their laughter quiet. It was a comforting sight, one that made the room feel just a bit warmer, but there was still a tug in his chest.

  Dex gave a dramatic shrug. “Well, now we wait to see if we’ve invented demon detection or just doomed the entire campus to a night of explosive regrets.”

  Jace groaned, rubbing his temples. “There goes our reputation as chefs.” He shot a helpless glance at Alice, but there was no sympathy to be found.

  She took a careful step back, hands raised in mock surrender. “Nope, don’t even think about it. I don’t want my name anywhere near this concoction. You two are on your own.”

  Dex patted Jace’s shoulder, his grin barely concealed. “Cheer up, man. We’ll always know the quality of your potions.”

  Jace looked down at the potion, the flowers swirling as they dissolved into the murky liquid. He sighed again, deeper this time.

  The cauldron gurgled ominously, the last of the petals vanishing beneath the surface. Silence fell over the room as they all held their breath. Whatever they’d just made, it was bound to be... interesting.

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  (I feel like a kid awkwardly hawking Girl Scout cookies outside a grocery store.)