Page 55 of Dark Bonds

She glances over her shoulder, her eyes hard. “We aren’t working with local law enforcement,” she whispers, the words carried away by the wind. “Besides, where we’re heading, we can only get there by boat.”

Curiosity burns under my skin, lighting me up from the inside out. This is what I live for, mysteries that dance on a knife’s edge between enlightenment and oblivion. My mouth is dry, and adrenaline pumps through my veins in a heady cocktail of fear and anticipation.

The boat ride to Shadow Locke Island is tense, the silence broken only by the gentle lapping of waves against the hull. Cass sits across from me, her posture rigid as she scans the misty waters as if expecting monsters to emerge at any moment. My mind races, already formulating potential decryption algorithms, desperate for any foothold in the chaos that threatens to engulf us.

“Sitrep,” I say, breaking the silence with a term I know Cass will appreciate.

Cass’s gaze snaps to mine, sharp as a blade. “We found something on the north shore—symbols unlike anything we’ve seen before. They… They seem to be changing.”

I lean forward, intrigued despite the dread coiling in my gut. “Changing how? Any discernible pattern or cyclical nature to the transformations?”

“Negative,” she says, frustration evident in her voice. “We can’t predict the pattern. It’s like they are alive, Bishop.”

As we approach the island, I see the increased guardian presence. Silver uniforms dot the shoreline, their movements precise and coordinated, but even from here, I can sense the fear radiating off them in waves.

The island looms ahead, shrouded in a thick mist that seems to cling to its edges like a living thing. The trees, normally lush and green, now appear dull and lifeless, as if the very life has been sucked out of them.

The boat rocks and sways as we navigate the rough waters, heading toward the rocky shoreline. Cass expertly maneuvers the small vessel, her steely expression never faltering, but I can see the tension in the set of her shoulders and her white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel.

My heart races with a mixture of excitement and terror as we draw closer to our destination. I can feel the weight of my backpack, laden with equipment and tools for deciphering the mysterious symbols, but will it be enough, or are we arming ourselves with toothpicks to fight a leviathan?

As we near the island, the mist thickens, making it difficult to see more than a few feet ahead. The trees stand over us like sentinels, their branches reaching out like skeletal fingers, ready to snatch us from the world of the living.

Cass slows our approach, guiding us between two large rocks with expert precision. We come to a stop on a small patch of sand, the boat’s hull scraping against the shore with a sound similar to a death rattle.

We quickly disembark, our feet sinking into the wet sand. As we make our way onto the north shore, I notice scorch marks on trees and deep gouges in the earth—remnants of the eredar beast’s attack. A shiver runs down my spine as I remember Frankie’s face when she created that shadow shield, the raw power and terror etched into her features.

“Here,” Cass says, stopping abruptly.

I follow her gaze, and my breath catches in my throat. There, etched into the sand, is a complex series of symbols. They shimmer faintly, as if viewed through heat waves, and pulse with an otherworldly energy. As I watch, one symbol seems to morph,its lines rearranging into a new configuration. It’s beautiful and terrifying, a dance of creation and destruction playing out before my eyes.

“Fascinating,” I murmur, crouching down for a closer look. My mind immediately starts cataloging the symbols, searching for familiar patterns in this alien language. “How long has this phenomenon been occurring?”

“We first noticed it shortly after the evacuation,” Cass replies, her voice tight. “It’s been changing ever since. We’ve tried everything—barrier spells, containment fields. Nothing stops it.”

I pull out a small notebook and begin sketching the symbols, my hand moving almost of its own accord. “Have you attempted any frequency analysis or applied Markov chain modeling to the transformations?”

Cass shakes her head, a hint of desperation creeping into her voice. “None of our usual methods have yielded results. That’s why we need you, Bishop. If anyone can crack this code, it’s you.”

I nod, already losing myself in the puzzle before me. It’s a siren song, calling me deeper into its mysteries. “I’ll need access to the library and all the data you’ve collected so far. We might need to develop new cryptanalysis techniques for this.”

“Done,” Cass says. “Bishop, there’s something else.”

I look up, noting the concern in her eyes and the way she hesitates before continuing. Whatever this is, it’s big. Possibly world ending big.

“We’ve been picking up energy signatures,” she continues, each word falling like a hammer blow. “They are similar to the eredar beast, but… different and scattered across the city.”

My mind immediately goes to Frankie’s vision, a secret I guard as fiercely as a dragon guards its hoard. I don’t want anyone other than our small circle to know about Frankie and just how special she truly is.

“Have you informed the council?” I ask, careful to keep my tone neutral.

“Not yet. We wanted to be sure first.”

I stand, brushing sand from my knees. “We need to move fast, Cass. If there are more of these entities out there…”

“Agreed.” She nods, her face grim. “That’s why we’re preparing to bring the students back.”

I blink in surprise, momentarily stunned by the sheer insanity of the idea. “Is that tactically sound with all these unknown variables?”

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