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I stood quickly, gathering my plate, and forced myself not to look at Cyrus’s retreating form.

“Maybe during the trials, we’ll all learn something new about each other.” I arched a brow, letting the implication settle. “I wonder what else you two are hiding.”

Elio’s smirk faltered just a touch, and Cyrus nearly tripped over a chair leg on his way out.

Scout chittered, and I could have sworn he was laughing at all of us.

21

Marigold

Dr. Reyes arrangedseveral objects on the table before me, each pulsing with faint magic. A silver compass, an old spellbook, a small vial of shimmering dust.

“Let’s test your sensitivity to different magical currents,” she said, watching me closely.

Scout twitched on my shoulder, his tiny bones clicking as he sniffed the air, the frayed black bow tie at his neck fluttering with the movement.

I could already feel the magic humming around us, but now that I was paying attention, the differences were startling. The compass’s magic felt solid, unmoving—like stone warmed by the sun, steady and unwavering. But the spellbook—it felt wrong. Not just old, but altered, twisted in a way that made my skin prickle. The dead things in the walls whispered uneasily.

I pressed my fingers against the book’s leather cover, feeling the magic underneath. “This one’s… forced. Like someone tried to shove magic into a shape it wasn’t meant to be. It doesn’t flow right.”

Dr. Reyes nodded, her expression unreadable. “Good. And the compass?”

“Grounded. Rooted. Like… something that won’t break, no matter what pushes against it.”

“That’s Professor Rivera’s signature,” she said. “His magic aligns with earth—sturdy, enduring, resistant to outside influence. But the book—” She tapped it lightly. “That magic has been restrained, shaped unnaturally.”

I frowned. “Why would someone force magic like that?”

Before she could answer, the classroom door opened. Keane stood there, pausing as he caught sight of me. His usual composed presence seemed off—his portals flickered at his fingertips, their edges darker than before.

He frowned slightly, like he hadn’t expected anyone to be here. Was he delivering a message? Picking something up? Whatever it was, he didn’t linger—until our magic brushed.

The same wrongness I’d felt in the book threaded through his magic.

The dead things in the walls recoiled. Scout tensed. And before I even thought about it, I reached for my own magic, letting it brush against the edges of his.

The darkness shuddered, then—

For just a second, his portal lightened. Silver, steady, pure.

Keane inhaled sharply, as if feeling the shift. His eyes snapped to mine, startled.

And then, just as quickly, he pulled back, his expression hardening. The shadows crept back into his magic like ink bleeding into water. He turned without a word and strode down the hallway, his posture tight.

Dr. Reyes exhaled slowly, considering me. “Interesting.”

My pulse was still racing. “What? What was that?”

She studied me for a moment before answering. “Your father noticed similar anomalies in his research. Magic being redirected. Corrupted. And—on rare occasions—something pushing back against that corruption.”

I stared at her. “Pushing back how?”

Dr. Reyes picked up the compass again, rolling it between her fingers. “Some magic resists being forced into unnatural patterns. And some people—very rare people—can sense when magic is… out of place.”

I swallowed hard, my mind spinning. “Is that why the Council—”

“That’s enough for today,” she interrupted, suddenly cool. “Be careful, Marigold. Not everyone appreciates their methods being questioned.”