Lyra was pulling me through a maze of corridors, her fingers gripping my wrist so tightly that my bones ached. I barely had time to look around — the walls of the Academy were changing, as if they were breathing: they narrowed, then expanded, and the frescoes on them flowed like mercury, showing scenes of ancient battles, then faces that seemed to be watching me.
"Where are we going?" I gasped, stumbling over the slab, which suddenly lifted as if it wanted to bite me.
"We're not running,— Lyra hissed, stopping abruptly in front of a door with a burned—out symbol-an eye surrounded by flames. "We're escaping."
She pushed open the door, and we stumbled into a narrow room littered with books, bottles, and... wings. No, really — huge feathers, as if plucked from an angel, lay in the corner, shimmering in the light of a single lamp.
"This.".. Your room? I asked, noticing how the shadows in the corners were moving as if alive.
—Ours,— Lyra corrected, slamming the door. She ran her finger along the jamb, and blue lock runes flashed in the air. — The director wasn't joking about the test. Tomorrow you will either be killed or you will become one of them.
—One of whom?"
Lyra didn't answer. Instead, she grabbed a book from the floor—my book, the one I found in the The old temple before the Academy "called" me. The page still showed one word:
"Run"
But now new lines were appearing under it, as if an invisible hand was writing them right now:
"They're lying.
A flame is not a light.
The director is dead.
The real Ignis sleeps under a rock.
You're the only one who can wake him up."
I recoiled as if from a fire.
— What kind of nonsense is this?..
— This is not nonsense, — Lyra pressed her palm to the page, and the letters moved faster, merging into new phrases. — The book is alive. She's telling the truth. Only the Seer can read it.
Suddenly, the wall behind her reared up, and something burst out of the stone... face.
—Lyra,— it croaked, and I realized that it wasn't an illusion—the stone was really talking, its features resembled a human, but too elongated, as if stretched over the centuries. — * They're coming. The guild knows about him.
Lyra paled.
"What time is it?"
"Minutes."
The stone face melted away, leaving behind only a zigzag-shaped crack.
"Who's coming?" I asked, but Lyra had already grabbed my shoulders.
"Listen carefully. What you see—shadows, whispering walls, changing pages—is not magic. This is a reality that others don't notice. The Academy is just a shell. Actually it is...
A door slammed somewhere below. Voices were heard, harsh and full of malice.
— We found it! — Someone shouted.
Lyra swore.
— There is no time.
She rushed to the window—it looked out into the black abyss, where the lights of some city were twinkling far, far away.
"Are you serious?" I recoiled.
"You're a Seer, Sato,— her eyes were burning. "Look at this.
She pushed me towards the window.
And I saw it.
What was a chasm a second ago has now turned out to be... the stairs. Invisible, made of shadows and moonlight, leading down through the clouds.
"Go on!" Lyra shoved the book at me. "Go down to the Lower City. Find the sleeper.
"And you?"
She turned to the door, where she could already hear the screech of metal as the lock was being picked.
"I'll hold them off.
The door cracked.
I stepped into the void.
The ladder shook under my feet, but it held.
The last thing I heard before the darkness swallowed me up was Lyra's scream and a deafening roar.:
"Where is the Seer?"
And then the book rustled its pages again in his hands.
I didn't look into it.
I knew what it said.
"Run faster."