Mixed—chapter eight: The Hidden Ink

I unfolded the fragile page, Kael leaning close as the lantern light caught the writing. My mother’s hand—sharp, deliberate strokes—spread across the paper. I swallowed hard and began to read aloud:

My dearest Ryder,

If you are reading this, then the world has already decided what you are before you had the chance to decide for yourself. You must not believe them. You are not your father’s loyalty, nor my shadow. You are something else. Something they fear because they cannot name it.

The world whispers that a Vantablack stone means corruption. That a Ravenwood is destined for ruin. Those whispers are lies. There is power in shadow, but power is not evil—it is choice.

You must never trust the bugs. They are not insects, but watchers. Their blood is purple because it carries the memory of what they see. Step on one, and it remembers you forever. You cannot kill them all—one is enough to mark you.

If your Luminor changes color, do not be afraid. That means you are not broken—you are becoming. But others will not understand. Hide it. Until the day comes when hiding is no longer possible.

I wish I could be there to guide you. Know only this: I loved you before you were born, and I love you now, across time and death.

Choose your path, Ryder. Do not let them choose it for you.

—Your Mother,

Ronnie Ravenwood

The last line flickered as I spoke it, the ink shimmering before vanishing into the page. One by one, the words faded until the paper was blank in my hands.

“Wait—where did it go?” Kael gasped, reaching for it.

I cleared my throat, the blank page trembling in my hands. “Ahem—uh… what if I already killed the bug?”

The paper wrinkled beneath my fingers, letters rising and folding like skin. New words scrawled themselves across the creases:

you what

My stomach dropped. “I—I already killed the bug,” I admitted, voice cracking.

The page crumpled tighter, the words reshaping.

of course you did

Kael leaned over my shoulder, eyebrows shooting up. “Oh! That’s a spell. I’ve read about this—reactive ink, bound to a bloodline. It only responds to the person it’s written for.”

I shot him a look. “You nerd.”

He smirked, clearly enjoying himself. “You of all people shouldn’t be calling me a nerd.”

Despite everything, a laugh escaped me—half nerves, half relief. The orange pulse from my nightstand still flickered faintly, but for one small moment, it felt like I wasn’t drowning in secrets.

The paper rippled again, letters warping violently across the page.

go away. leave me alone.

I froze. “What—”

The sheet twisted in my hands, the ink bleeding upward, stretching into the rough shape of a face. Hollow eyes and a jagged mouth screamed at me, the sound echoing unnaturally around the quiet room.

“YOU’RE NOT A PROFESSOR!” the voice howled. “STUDENT IN THE FILES! STUDENT IN THE FILES!”

I dropped the page, stumbling back, but the words followed me like a chant. My own voice joined in, raw and panicked. “Student in the files—student in the files—”

I slammed the folder shut, but the echo kept rattling in my skull.

“Go, go, go, go, go!” Kael’s voice cut through, urgent, sharp. He grabbed my arm and yanked me toward the door, the lantern shaking wild shadows on the walls.

We bolted for the hall, my ears still ringing with the shriek of ink.

We bolted down the corridor, our footsteps hammering the stone floors. The lantern swung wildly in Kael’s grip, shadows lurching across the walls like they were chasing us.

Behind us, the teachers’ room door rattled, the echo of the paper’s scream still clawing at my ears.

“Student in the files—student in the files—” The words seemed burned into my skull.

“Ryder, shut up!” Kael hissed, hauling me around a corner. “If you keep yelling, they’ll—”

“Who’s there?”

The voice came from the far end of the hall. A professor. The glow of a white Luminor spilled into view, washing the corridor with pale light.

Kael shoved the lantern into my hands and pressed me flat against the wall. “Stay quiet.”

The professor’s steps drew closer, the glow intensifying. My heart pounded so hard I thought the stone in my pocket would give me away, pulsing bright enough to pierce my jacket.

Kael squeezed my arm once, then muttered under his breath, “On my mark, we run.”

The footsteps neared the corner. The white light was almost on us.

Kael’s stone blazed blue in his hand, steady and unyielding. He grinned at me, even now. “Three… two… one—”