The stone beneath the bloodstained floor was older than the rest of the lab. I could tell by the grooves, by the feel of it when my boots touched down. Someone had carved runes into the foundation, then patched over them—layers of stone, then a thin mesh of illusion. But magic ages. And illusion, especially the lazy kind, peels like old paint.
It took me two minutes to undo the false floor entirely.
Felix stood a few paces behind me, arms crossed, still pale but more steady now. He hadn't said much since we left the core chamber. Understandable. He'd just destroyed a piece of his family legacy.
"Professor," he said finally, voice low. "That rune… it's not Dorne work."
"I know."
