Chapter 7: The Ghost in the Machine
The Whispering Woods lived up to its name. The trees were ancient, their gnarled branches draped in silver moss that glowed faintly in the dark. As our horses picked their way through the narrow path, the wind whistled through the hollow trunks, sounding like a thousand hushed voices debating a verdict.
Emily sat huddled in the middle of our group, her eyes wide with terror. Cassian led the way, his sword unsheathed and glowing with a faint violet light that acted as our only lantern.
"Stay close," Cassian murmured, his voice cutting through the eerie rustle of the leaves. "The mana in this forest is unstable. It feeds on memories and fears."
I tried to keep my horse steady, but my body was reaching its limit. Between the dungeon and the ambush, my soul was struggling with Seraphina's physically pampered body. A sharp pain bloomed in my ankle I must have twisted it when I jumped out of the carriage and every step of the horse felt like a needle pressing into the bone.
Suddenly, the mist thickened. It wasn't white, but a deep, shimmering indigo.
"Cassian?" I called out, but my voice felt muffled, as if I were speaking underwater.
The Duke vanished into the fog. Emily vanished. Even the sound of the horse's hooves died away. I was alone in a silent, purple void.
"Is it lonely, being the only one who knows the end of the story?"
A voice echoed in my mind. It was a voice I recognized my own. But it was the soft, desperate voice of the original Seraphina. A figure stepped out of the indigo mist. She looked exactly like me, but her eyes were red from crying.
"You think you can win," the ghost of the original Seraphina said. "But I lived here for twenty years, and the only law is the Saintess's smile. Why are you fighting for a life I already gave up on?"
I stared at her. "Because you didn't give up. You were murdered by a script. I don't follow scripts; I write them."
The ghost stepped closer, and as she did, the indigo mist began to swirl into digital-like symbols the "System" code.
"You aren't here by accident, Lawyer," the ghost whispered, using a word that shouldn't exist in this world. "The Saintess is an anomaly. She is like you. She arrived before you. She has already rewritten the world to be her stage."
My heart stopped. The Saintess... was a transmigrator too? That explained everything her perfect knowledge of events and her ability to frame me. I wasn't fighting a fictional character; I was fighting another "Player."
Before I could ask more, the ghost shattered into a thousand shards of light.
"Seraphina!"
A warm, heavy hand grabbed my shoulder. The indigo mist snapped back into grey fog. I blinked, finding myself slipping from my saddle. Cassian caught me before I hit the ground, his arms wrapping around me.
"You were screaming," Cassian said, his violet eyes full of a raw worry.
"I... I'm fine," I lied, but as I tried to stand, my twisted ankle gave out. I gasped, falling against his chest.
Cassian didn't say a word. He swept me up into his arms, carrying me toward a small stone alcove beneath a massive willow tree. He set me down gently on a bed of dry moss and immediately began to unlace my boot.
"Wait, Cassian, the witness "
"Emily is safe. My lead scout is with her twenty paces away," he grunted, his fingers working with surprising gentleness as he peeled back my silk stocking.
My ankle was swollen and bruised. In the dim light, Cassian looked up at me. He looked... pained.
"You should have told me you were hurt," he said, his voice dropping to a low growl.
"It was just a minor injury. We had more important things to worry about."
"Nothing is more important than the woman holding my territory's future in her hands," he countered. He reached into a pouch at his belt and pulled out a jar of clear, glowing salve. "This will sting."
As he applied the ointment, I winced, my fingers instinctively curling into the fabric of his leather tunic. The coldness of the salve met the heat of my skin.
"I saw an illusion," I whispered, my heart still racing from the ghost's words. I couldn't tell him I was from another world. He would think I was insane. "Cassian... Isabella isn't what she seems. Her 'visions' aren't from the gods. She knows things about the future because she is calculating, not holy. She's playing a game with the Empire."
Cassian paused, his hands still holding my foot. "I always knew her 'divine' acts felt like theater. But how can you be so sure?"
"Because a 'miracle' that always happens to benefit the person performing it isn't a miracle," I said, using my legal logic to cover the truth. "It's a conspiracy."
Cassian looked at me for a long time. The firelight played across the sharp angles of his face. He reached out, his thumb tracing the line of my jaw.
"Why are you doing this, Seraphina?" he asked. "You could have taken gold and fled. Why stay and fight a Saintess who has the whole world on her side?"
"Because I hate losing," I said. "And because... if I leave, who will make sure you don't overpay your taxes?"
Cassian let out a breath that was almost a laugh. He leaned in, his forehead resting against mine. I could feel the steady thrum of his heart.
"You are the most frustrating woman I have ever met," he murmured. "And the only one I would trust to burn this Empire down with me."
The tension was so high that my breath hitched. But then, a sharp whistle echoed through the trees the scout's signal.
Cassian went rigid, his hand instantly dropping to his sword. The romantic moment vanished.
"They're here," he said, standing up and pulling me to my feet. "The Temple's 'Inquisitors.' They've tracked us into the woods."
"Isabella," I realized out loud. "She's heading us off at the exit! She knows these woods too well."
"Then we change the exit," Cassian said, his eyes flashing with violet fire. "There is an old mining tunnel three miles East. Once we cross the border, I can call upon the Winter Legion. Not even the Pope would dare cross that line."
"Then let's move," I said, ignoring the throb in my ankle.
As we mounted our horses, I looked back at the indigo mist. I had a new piece of evidence now. This wasn't just a trial for a murder. This was a war between two souls who knew how the story was supposed to end.