Aria stepped forward, her sharp gaze sweeping over the intricate runes woven into the iron gate. They had found a secluded section of the fence behind the Duke's estate, shrouded by towering trees and dense foliage.
Her fingers ghosted over the markings, tracing them with practiced ease, feeling the faint hum of magic beneath her touch.
"Same as the academy wall—old enchantments layered over new ones," she murmured. "Whoever maintains these defenses doesn't know what they're doing. They're overlapping conflicting sigils… which makes them weak."
She knelt, producing a small vial from the folds of her cloak. The liquid inside was a shimmering silver, thick and viscous.
Krux arched an eyebrow. "What's that?"
"Solvent for weak magical bindings," she replied simply, dipping the tip of a thin dagger into the shimmering liquid. "The wards here may be weak, but they're still a step above the academy's."
