In the Star-Gazer suite, Sabrina sat perched on the edge of the velvet bed. The luxury Moira had flaunted now felt like a shroud. The room felt more like a gilded cage. With a sharp exhale, she closed her eyes and hummed a discordant note. The air fractured. Two figures, draped in robes the color of drying blood, bled out of the shadows. The Red Saints.

“It's done,” Sabrina whispered, sliding a weighted, cloth-wrapped object across the silk. “The artifact is yours. But there is more. The boy, Zorn. He's a reservoir of something I haven't seen. I believe he carries a mark. I'm going to confirm it now. If he is what I think he is, the High Order will want him more than the artifact.”

The Saints bowed, their faces hidden behind porcelain masks, and vanished with a sickening pop of displaced air.

Sabrina didn't wait. She slipped into the hallway, her heart racing. She reached Zorn's door and eased it open. The boy was sprawled out, blankets kicked off, snoring softly. His signature red jacket was draped over his bedpost; he was sleeping in his black t-shirt with his gold, beaded scorpion chain around his neck. She crept to his side, her fingers trembling as she reached for his left arm. She held her breath and saw it: a gothic, obsidian scorpio glyph that seemed to swallow the dim light of the room.

“Beautiful, isn't it?”

The voice came from the shadows behind the headboard. Sabrina bolted upright, but a massive hand of blue and gold light clamped onto her shoulder like a vice.

“Going for a midnight stroll, Snake?” Khor stepped into the sliver of moonlight, his face a mask of cold fury, holding out his glowing fingers. Before she could scream, he spun her around, pinning her arms behind her back and slamming her chest-first against the heavy oak wardrobe.

SLAM!

“I felt the shift, Sabrina,” Khor growled into her ear, his voice a low, dangerous vibration. “Space doesn't tear like that unless a Saint is nearby. Where is the artifact?”

“Get off me, you brute!” Sabrina hissed, struggling against his superior strength. “You have no idea what's at stake!”

“I know I'm about five seconds away from breaking your wrists,” Khor snapped.

The door to the room swung open. It didn't bang against the wall; it slid open with a heavy, pressurized hiss. Donal stood in the threshold. He wasn't the bumbling, drunk traveler from dinner. He stood perfectly straight, his arms crossed over his chest, and the air around him was shimmering, distorted by an invisible heat.

“Let her go, Khor,” Donal said. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried the weight of a falling mountain.

“Don, she sold us out!” Khor shouted, though he instinctively stepped back, releasing Sabrina. “She summoned the Saints! The artifact is gone!”

Donal stepped into the room. As his foot hit the floorboards, the shadows in the room moved. The moonlight around him fractured as if it had entered a prism. The gravity intensified until the wooden floorboards groaned under the pressure. Sabrina tried to run for the window, but Donal swiped his finger downward.

Suddenly, her legs gave out and she hit the floor, her body feeling as though it weighed a thousand pounds.

“I know,” Donal said, looking down at her. His eyes were no longer green; they had turned a celestial gold, swirling with the patterns of distant galaxies. He reached into a pocket hidden by his cloak and pulled out the stolen artifact, tossing it lightly in the air. It pulsed with a rhythmic, divine glow.

“Wait, if you have it, what did I give them?” Sabrina gasped, her face pressed against the rug by the sheer force of Donal's presence.

“A clever illusion and a tracking ward,” Donal replied, a ghost of a cold smile playing on his lips.

She gasped, her chest heaving as she fought the weight pressing her into the rug. “How… what are you?!”

Donal didn't answer. He leaned down, his golden eyes fixed on hers. The pressure increased until Sabrina could barely lift her head. It was a quiet, terrifying display of absolute control.

“You're a guest in my friend's house,” Donal whispered. “And you're trying to disrespect her? I don't like people disrespecting my friends, Sabrina.”

Zorn stirred, his eyes fluttering open as he felt the crushing weight of the room. He looked up, shocked to see his “silly” mentor standing above Sabrina, surrounded by a prismatic light from the moon. The room felt distorted and fractured, yet everything appeared normal to Zorn. What was this?

“D-Don…?” Zorn wheezed.

Donal’s golden gaze softened just a fraction as he looked at the boy, but the power didn't vanish. “Go back to sleep, kid. The grown-ups are talking.”

Donal’s gaze shifted back to Sabrina, and the pressure eased just enough for her to breathe, though the golden tint in his eyes remained.

“You're going to sit in that chair,” Donal pointed to a seat in the corner, “and you're going to tell us why the Red Saints are so interested in this Relic. And you're going to do it quietly.”

“Okay! Anything! I'll do anything! Just don't hurt me! Please!” Sabrina pleaded.

“You will do anything because I said so, Sabrina,” Donal replied curtly.

Sabrina suddenly felt her own free will be overwritten. A power took over, controlling every fiber of her being. Sabrina's thoughts ran rampant as her body got up on its own and staggered across the room toward the chair.

How?! How is he controlling me?! I…I..!

Zorn gasped at the immense power he was witnessing. He backed up against his headboard, gripping his sheets. 

What the hell is happening?! What did I wake up to?! 

Donal turned to Khor, the gold in his eyes fading back to hazel as the crushing weight in the room vanished. “Plush, get the boy some water. He looks like he's seen a ghost.”

Plush's eyes were wide, reminded exactly why Donal was his master. He slowly gave a small bow. “Yes, sir.”

Zorn watched Khor leave as quickly as possible. His eyes shifted to Sabrina, sitting in the chair now as Donal’s puppet. He saw Donal standing across from the girl, tossing and catching the artifact in his hand with a relaxed posture.

Is this the power of a Sidhe?! Or something higher than that?! What the hell is he?!