Master Cornelius's Arc

Chapter 3 of 4

Cornelius locked the door to his quarters and pressed his forehead against the cold wood. The apprentice would talk. She had already built the crystal pillar where everyone could see it. By morning, others would follow the rainbow dust trails. They would ask questions he couldn't answer without revealing everything. He grabbed the dark metal chest from beneath his desk and carried it to the old sunrise shed at the compound's edge. Inside, he cleared the floor and drew a pentagram in charcoal across the snow that had drifted through the broken roof. He placed the chest at the center and opened it—eight vials glowed with stolen colors, each one taken from an apprentice's hands. The ritual required all of them poured at once, creating a pool of concentrated pigment that would draw Elsa's gift toward him like water flowing downhill. His hands shook as he arranged the vials in a circle. Voices carried across the yard before he finished. Through the shed's cracked wall, he saw them—a group of students in pointed hats and winter coats, their gray hands visible even at this distance. They stood near the crystal pillar, pointing at the rainbow dust trail that led directly to the shed. One of them shouted something he couldn't hear. They started walking toward him. Cornelius swept the vials back into the chest and locked it. The ritual needed perfect concentration, needed hours he didn't have. He pulled his hood up and slipped out the back of the shed as the students reached the front entrance. Their footsteps crunched in the snow behind him, but he had already decided—he would hide the chest where no one would find it, then wait for another chance. The transference wasn't canceled. It was merely delayed. And when he finally performed it, he would make certain no gray-handed apprentice could interrupt him again.