**Chapter 39 - Graduation Road Trip Ridică-te din Noapte***
**Sunday, June 4, 2028 – 3:33 p.m.**
We leave a couple of days after graduation.
No ceremony.
No caps and gowns.
Just six of us, one matte-black 1970s Suburban with fresh wards painted under the chassis, and a playlist titled "For When We Storm Heaven."
Driver's seat: Remy (windows down, coyote grin, locket blazing).
Shotgun: me (crown spinning lazy figure-eights above my heart, silver scar catching the sun).
Middle bench: Seras and Kayo (fire and fox arguing over aux cord privileges).
Back row: Aki and Riku (already asleep on each other, snoring in perfect oni harmony).
Trunk: Rowan Vale (folded into the cargo space like it's first class, sipping coffee, pretending he's not excited).
Destination: Shambhala.
Population: a few thousand very surprised monks who think they're about to confiscate my heart.
They're wrong.
We hit the Arkansas state line doing ninety, bass thumping, valley steam fading in the rear-view like a goodbye wave.
Seras leans forward between the seats.
**Seras:**
"Official playlist rule: every time we cross a state line, we add one song that would make the Monastery clutch their prayer beads."
Kayo smirks, queues up "Sweet but Psycho."
Remy howls along off-key.
I laugh so hard my ribs hurt.
The crown pulses warm, happy, free.
```
Language Mastery: 39.7%
CROWNWEAVE active
Bonded allies: 6/∞
Current mood: reckless joy
```
Rowan's voice drifts from the back, dry as ever.
**Rowan:**
"Reminder: the hidden gate only opens for someone carrying the complete crown.
They'll feel us coming in about… three days."
**Celeste (grinning into the wind):**
"Good.
Let them sweat."
Remy reaches over, laces our fingers.
**Remy:**
"Four days to another dimension.
Think we can cause an international incident before lunch on day two?"
**Celeste:**
**Seras
**Kayo (in unison):**
"Absolutely."
The Suburban roars north.
Behind us, Hot Springs sleeps safe under ghost watch.
Ahead of us, the hidden kingdom that's been pulling strings for eight thousand years is about to meet the storm queen who refused to kneel.
And her court.
We're not coming to surrender the crown.
We're coming to redraw the map.
Windows down.
Music loud.
Hearts louder.
The mountains are waiting.
Let's go make them kneel.
Try to keep up.
**Ridică-te din Noapte**
**Sunday, June 4, 2028– 3:47 p.m.**
The Suburban roars down Highway 70 like a beast unchained, windows wide open, wind whipping twin tails and Seras's space buns into chaos.
Remy's got the aux cord wired to his phone, and he hits play on the playlist he made last night titled "Storming Shambhala."
First track: RASE's "Ridică-te din Noapte"—the Romanian rock anthem that blasts out of the speakers like a war cry.
The bass thumps so hard the dashboard rattles.
**Remy (yelling over the music):**
"Rise from the night, storm queen! Let's wake some monks!"
I laugh, head out the window, singing along off-key in Romanian that would make my mom proud (and my dad cringe).
Seras is in the middle seat, arms out like she's flying, flames trailing from her fingertips in perfect sync with the guitar riff.
Kayo's in the back with Aki and Riku, tails fanned wide, all three of them headbanging like it's their national anthem.
Rowan's in the trunk space, legs crossed, silver mug in hand, pretending he's not tapping his foot.
**Rowan (yelling):**
"This is your idea of stealth?"
**Celeste (grinning back):**
"We're not sneaking in. We're announcing."
The lyrics hit the chorus:
"Ridică-te din noapte! / Rise from the night!
Furtuna vine! / The storm is coming!"
We hit the chorus together—six voices, one promise.
Julian waits at the private airstrip with a blacked-out jet that looks like it was built for gods, not mortals.
He's in a crisp suit, no coffee mug this time, just a single silver briefcase.
**Julian (nodding):**
"Shambhala's gate opens in forty-seven hours.
You ready to make them regret inviting you?"
I step off the Suburban, board under my arm, crown pieces humming in my veins.
**Celeste (smiling):**
"Born ready."
We board.
The plane lifts off to the sound of RASE still blaring from Remy's phone.
Shambhala is waiting.
Let them kneel.
We're coming to collect.**STEAM & SHADOW**
**Book 4: The Mountains That Kneel**
**Chapter 2 – Rude Awakening**
– Monday, June 5, 2028 – Somewhere over the Himalayas**
The jet Rowan "borrowed" from Shambhala's fleet is too quiet.
No engines.
No wind.
Just the soft hum of wards that make the plane invisible to radar, satellites, and probably gods.
I'm not even 17 yet I'm 38 days from turning 17.
I'm not even old enough to vote, but I'm flying to a lost city to tell the most powerful wizards in existence that if they try to cut my heart out and lock it in a box, they're going to have a very bad day.
Rowan sits across from me, legs crossed, silver mug steaming.
**Rowan:**
"The First Wizard is expecting surrender.
The crown is whole.
The treaty says it gets sealed away, heir or no heir."
I lean back, twin tails draped over the armrest, pink Vans kicking idly.
**Celeste (quiet, dangerous):**
"I'm not even 17 yet.
I'm not laying down on some table and letting them cut my heart out to lock it away in a box.
If the First Wizard thinks that's why I'm coming, he's gonna have a rude awakening."
Rowan actually laughs (small, real, ancient).
**Rowan:**
"That's the plan."
Remy's hand finds mine from the seat beside me.
**Remy:**
"We're not surrendering anything."
Seras, Kayo, Aki, and Riku nod from the back.
The jet dips.
Below us: the Himalayas, impossible peaks hiding a city that mortals decided was myth.
Shambhala.
The wards part like water.
We land on a runway made of living jade.
A single figure waits at the end: tall, robes shifting like galaxies, face hidden in shadow.
The First Wizard "One."
I step off first.
The crown spins warm above my heart.
**One (voice like colliding stars):**
"Celeste Valentina Morau.
You've come to fulfill the treaty."
I smile with all my teeth.
**Celeste:**
"No.
I've come to rewrite it."
The crown flares bright enough to blind.
The First Wizard actually takes a step back.
**One:**
"Impossible.
The crown is—"
**Celeste:**
"Mine.
And it's staying where it is.
In my heart.
Beating for the people I love."
My crew steps off the plane behind me.
Fire. Coyote. Fox. Oni. Monk.
One queen.
**Celeste:**
"Now… let's talk about how Shambhala is going to help me use it."
The galaxies in One's robes flicker.
The rude awakening has begun.
And the mountains are about to kneel.
**The First Wizard's Table**
Monday, June 5, 2028 – 7:12 p.m. (Shambhala local time)**
They bring us to the Grand Refectory (an impossible hall carved inside a mountain that shouldn't exist, lit by floating lanterns made of pure starlight).
Thirteen Candles sit at a crescent table of living jade.
The First Wizard "One" at the center, face still hidden in shifting galaxies.
The other twelve are ancient, terrifying, and trying very hard not to look terrified.
Rowan stands behind my chair like a very polite bodyguard who could end civilizations.
Remy, Seras, Kayo, Aki, and Riku fan out along the wall (casual, but every one of them ready to burn the place down).
I sit in the single chair they left for me in the middle of the floor.
No table.
No equals.
Just the accused.
I lean back, pink Vans crossed at the ankle, crown spinning lazy circles above my heart like it's bored.
**One (voice like tectonic plates):**
"Celeste Valentina Morau
Heir of Dacia.
Bearer of the completed Crown.
By the Treaty of the Forty-Seventh Shard, you will now surrender the artifact for eternal sealing."
I smile.
**Celeste:**
"Pass."
Silence so complete the lanterns flicker.
One leans forward.
**One:**
"You do not have a choice.
The crown is too dangerous in any one pair of hands—"
**Celeste (cutting in, sweet as poison):**
"Funny.
I'm not surrendering my heart so you can lock it in a box for another eight thousand years.
I'm sixteen.
I've got prom photos to take, college apps to fake, and a boyfriend who still owes me a proper first date that doesn't involve monsters.
You are not cutting me open."
Remy growls low; the sound echoes like thunder inside the mountain.
Seras cracks her knuckles; tiny suns ignite between her fingers.
Kayo's tails flick once (nine golden warnings).
One's galaxy-face ripples.
**One:**
"The Crown is Seated on your heart ?""But You are a child—"
**Celeste (standing now, crown flaring white):**
"I'm the child who bled a primal reflection, broke the Severed Circle, freed four living hearts, and made the Forty-Eighth kneel with love instead of force.
I'm the child who walked into your hidden city uninvited and you still opened the gate because the crown let me.
So let's try that again—with respect."
I step forward.
The jade floor cracks beneath my Vans in a perfect circle.
**Celeste:**
"New treaty.
The crown stays with me.My heart stays in My Chest
Shambhala gets to help me use it (train me, advise me, open your libraries, whatever).
In return, I don't let my friends redecorate this mountain with fire, fox-fire, oni strength, coyote claws, and whatever Rowan does when he's actually annoyed."
Rowan takes a calm sip of coffee.
**Rowan (cheerful):**
"I haven't been actually annoyed in four centuries.
Wouldn't recommend it."
The twelve other Candles are sweating starlight now.
One is silent for a long, long time.
Then he does something no one in this room has ever seen a First Wizard do.
He stands.
And bows (not deep, but unmistakable).
**One:**
"The Treaty… is open to renegotiation."
The crown above my heart spins faster, pleased.
I grin like the sixteen-year-old disaster I am.
**Celeste:**
"Excellent.
First item on the agenda: dinner.
I'm starving, and I hear you have momos that can make a girl cry."
Seras whoops.
Remy laughs so hard he has to lean on me.
Kayo's tails curl in victory.
The mountains just knelt.
And we haven't even had dessert yet.
This is going to be a very good summer.