The Villain Who Seeks Joy-Chapter 95: The Interim

We buried the soldier at midnight.

It wasn’t a funeral. It was a cache.

Gareth pried up the floorboards in the back corner of the workshop. The earth underneath was dry and smelled of old sawdust. We had dug a trench deep enough to hold the disassembled chassis of the Centurion.

Mira wrapped the glass plating in heavy wool blankets. "This feels wrong," she whispered. "Putting it in the dirt."

"It’s storage," I said. "Not a grave. When we need it, we pull it up."

We laid the bone struts in the trench. We packed the joints with greased rags to keep the moisture out. We covered the pile with a tarp, then shoveled the earth back in.

Pelham nailed the boards down. He used a mallet wrapped in cloth to deaden the sound.

When we finished, we dragged a heavy workbench over the spot. I scattered dust and wood shavings over the floor to hide the seams.

"Invisible," Gareth said, wiping sweat from his forehead.

"Not invisible," I said. "Just hidden. If they tear the room apart, they’ll find it."

"Why would they tear the room apart?"

"Because they’re looking for reasons to shut us down," I said. "Loose tools are a reason. Unsanctioned weapons are a reason."

I looked at the team. They were dirty, tired, and scared. But they weren’t leaving.

"Go to your rooms," I said. "Hide anything that looks like a weapon. Hide the extra rations. If you have a book that isn’t on the syllabus, put it under your mattress."

"The flour?" Lyra asked. She stood by the door, keeping watch.

"The flour stays in the culvert stash," I said. "We bring it up in satchels, day by day. Never enough to look like a hoard. Just enough to bake."

"Attrition," she said.

"Survival."

They dispersed. I stayed in the workshop for a moment longer. I felt the absence of the third thread in my chest. The Centurion was gone from the leash. It was just bones in the ground now.

Marrow nudged my hand. I rested my palm on his skull.

"Stay close," I told him. "Tomorrow, the rules change."

Lord Blackwood arrived at noon.

He didn’t come with a carriage. He came with a column of Ministry Guards—fifty men in red and black livery, marching in step. They carried halberds and crossbows. This wasn’t a visit. It was an occupation.

The students gathered in the main quad. It was silent. The snow muffled the sound of the marching boots.

Blackwood rode a white horse. He was a thin man, sharp-featured, with skin the color of parchment. He wore the high collar of the Ministry and small, round spectacles that hid his eyes.

He dismounted at the fountain. Pierce and Liora stood on the steps to meet him. They were in dress uniform, standing tall.

Blackwood didn’t offer a hand. He offered a scroll.

"Director Pierce," he said. His voice was dry, like paper rubbing together. "You have received the writ?"

"I have," Pierce said. "I am contesting the grounds. The incident with Proctor Kellen was resolved internally."

"Resolved?" Blackwood looked around the yard. "A faculty member attempted to murder students. That is not a resolution. That is a symptom of rot."

He turned to the students. He scanned the crowd. His gaze lingered on Aldric, then on Cael, then on me. He didn’t know who I was yet, but he knew I was standing too straight for a student.

"Effective immediately," Blackwood announced, "this academy is under Ministry administration. All current faculty are suspended pending a competency review."

A gasp went through the crowd.

"Suspended?" Pierce stepped forward. "You can’t run a school without teachers."

"I have brought my own staff," Blackwood said. He gestured to the carriages behind the guards. "Instructors vetted by the Crown. They will teach the approved curriculum. Safety. Theory. Obedience."

"And the practicals?" Liora asked. Her voice was ice.

"Cancelled," Blackwood said. "There will be no more excursions into the Hollow Lands. No more... unauthorized engineering."

He looked directly at the workshop.

"Proctor Hynes," he called.

The man I had threatened with the steam kettle stepped out from behind the guards. He looked smug.

"Secure the assets," Blackwood ordered. "Lock the armory. Lock the forge. Inventory everything. If a single nail is missing, I want to know."

"Yes, My Lord."

Hynes marched a squad of guards toward the workshop.

I didn’t move. I let them go. The Centurion was under the floor. The tools were in our pockets.

Blackwood turned back to Pierce. "You will vacate your office. You are confined to quarters until the inquiry is complete."

"This is a mistake," Pierce said.

"The mistake was thinking you could run a private army without oversight," Blackwood said. "Dismissed."

Guards stepped forward to escort Pierce and Liora away. Liora caught my eye. She didn’t signal. She just looked at me, then looked at the ground. Hold.

The crowd began to disperse, herded by the Ministry troops.

"Identification," a guard barked at me.

I held up my student badge.

"Valcrey," the guard read. He looked at a list. "You’re on the watch list. Room inspection. Now."

They tore my room apart.

They dumped my trunk. They checked under the bed. They tapped the walls.

They found the Bone Lantern.

The guard captain picked it up. "What is this?"

"A lamp," I said.

"It’s bone," he said. "Necromancy."

"It’s a light source," I said. "Registered with Saintess Liora."

"The Saintess is suspended," the captain said. He dropped the Lantern into a sack. "Confiscated. Hazardous material."

I felt a spike of anger, hot and sharp. I suppressed it. If I fought for the Lantern, they would find the Moth. They would find the receipts.

"Take it," I said.

They took my knife. They took the spare rope.

They didn’t find the Brass Token. I had sewn it into the lining of my coat an hour ago.

They didn’t find the Sapper. It was in Marrow’s ribcage, disguised as a bone spur.

They left. My room was a wreck.

Cael came in ten minutes later. He closed the door and leaned against it.

"They took my sword," he said.

"They took the Lantern," I said.

"They’re locking down the gates," Cael said. "No one in or out without a pass signed by Blackwood. We’re bottled up."

"We’re not bottled," I said. "We have the culvert."

"They posted guards on the river grate," Cael said. "I saw them."

I sat on the bed. This was worse than I thought. They weren’t just changing management. They were tightening the noose.

"The food," I said. "The flour from Silas. Where is it?"

"Hidden in the old bell tower," Cael said. "Lyra moved it before they arrived. But we can’t cook it. They’re watching the kitchen smoke."

"Then we eat flatbread," I said. "Cooked on the dorm radiators."

There was a knock on the door. Soft. Rhythmic.

I opened it. It was Lyra. She wasn’t wearing her coordinator badge.

"They dissolved the student council," she said. "Refuge is closed. They said it was a ’fire hazard.’"

"They want us isolated," I said. "No gathering points."

She stepped inside. "They can take the room," she said. "They can’t take the network. I have runners in every dorm. We know the guard rotations." 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

"Good."

"Armand," she said. "Blackwood isn’t just a bureaucrat. He brought an inquisitor."

"An inquisitor?"

"A Crown mage," she said. "Specializing in detection. He’s walking the perimeter now. He’s looking for active magic."

I felt the leash in my chest. Marrow was in Shade. Hollow was perched on the roof.

"He’s looking for signatures," I said. "If I pull the thread, he’ll feel it."

"Exactly," Lyra said. "You can’t summon. Not even for a second. If they catch you casting, they won’t expel you. They’ll arrest you for unlicensed sorcery."

I looked at my hands. Without the constructs, I was just a guy with a sword I didn’t have anymore.

"I don’t need magic to fight," I said.

"We aren’t fighting," Lyra said firmly. "We are enduring. We wait for them to make a mistake."

"They won’t," I said. "Blackwood is professional. He’ll squeeze until we break."

"Then we don’t break," Cael said.

I went to the window. Down in the yard, Ministry guards were patrolling in pairs. The academy flag—blue and silver—had been lowered. The Crown flag—red and black—flew in its place.

It looked like a prison camp.

"We need to talk to Liora," I said. "We need orders."

"She’s under house arrest in the faculty tower," Cael said. "Two guards at the door."

"There’s a window," I said.

"Third floor," Cael noted. "Sheer wall."

I touched the pocket where I kept the copper wire.

"I know the wall," I said. "I climbed it last week."

"Without magic?" Lyra asked. "Without the Anchor Step? You’ll fall."

"I won’t fall," I said. "I still have my fingers."

I turned to them.

"Tonight," I said. "We go dark. No casting. No tokens. We move like commoners."

Cael grinned. It was a tight, wolfish expression. "I grew up a commoner," he said. "I know how to walk in the mud."

"Good," I said. "Because the mud just got deeper."

I blew out the candle. We sat in the gray light of the winter afternoon, planning a jailbreak in our own school.

The siege had begun.