Book #2: The Tower's Shadow

Chapter One: The Glass Infection

The sun rose over St. Jude's prep like a bruised eye, casting long, sickly purple shadows across the quad. To the rest of the students, it was just another Tuesday. To us, it was the first day of the rest of our lives, or what was left of them.

We sat at our usual table in the Great Hall, but the food tasted like ash. Luke sat at the head, his 6'4" frame hunched, his hoodie pulled tight to hide the gear-shaped mark that had begun to thrum against his spine the moment Alice Thorne walked into the room.

"She's a Thorne, Luke," James whispered, his thumb white-knuckled on the 'save' button of his digital recorder. "The same name as the founder. The same face as Alexandra. This isn't a coincidence. It's a reset."

"I know," Luke rasped. His eyes were fixed on the Headmaster's table.

Alice sat there, looking small and fragile in her new blazer, but she wasn't eating. She was staring at a silver spoon, her reflection caught in the polished metal.

Suddenly, Luke winced, his hand flying to the back of his neck.

"Luke? What is it?" Justin asked, leaning in.

"The mirror," Luke groaned. He wasn't looking at the spoon. He was looking at the massive, gilded mirror hanging on the far wall of the Hall. In the glass, the room wasn't full of students. It was empty, save for Alice, and a version of himself that was standing behind her, his hands resting on her shoulders. 

In the reflection, Luke's eyes weren't blue. They were a piercing, regal gold.

"He's using me," Luke whispered, his voice trembling. "The Shadow...he's not just in the Tower anymore. He's looking through my eyes. He's marking her through me."

Alice suddenly looked up, her gaze locking onto Luke's across the crowded hall. She didn't look scared. She looked like she was recognizing a long-lost relative. She stood up, ignoring the Headmaster's hand on her arm, and began walking toward our table.

"Don't let her touch me," Luke commanded his friends, his 6'4" frame tensing as he stood up to meet her. "If the bloodline connects, the Solstice starts today."

But Alice didn't stop. She stopped inches from Luke, tilted her head, and sniffed the air like a curious animal.

"You smell like the basement," she said, her voice a chilling, melodic echo of Alexandra's. "And you have the gear in your bones. Why are you fighting it, Cousin? The Tower is so much warmer than the dirt."

The tension in the Great Hall was so thick it felt like it was physically pressing against my skin. Alice Thorne stood there, her small hand reaching out toward me, her eyes locked onto mine with a familiarity that made my blood run cold.