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“There’s been another disappearance,” Evander said grimly, passing the note to Rufus.He rose and came around his desk.“A student from the Royal Institute.James Thornfield, a promising young mage being privately tutored by Professor Whitley.”

Shaw cursed under her breath.“When?!”

“Last night,” Evander replied, already reaching for his coat.“His roommate reported him missing this morning when he failed to return to their quarters.We need to return to the Institute immediately.”

Leon stood and smoothed down his suit.“I shall accompany you.”

Evander hesitated.The thought of navigating the Institute’s politics with Leon at his side was less than appealing, particularly given their history.The Frenchman’s expertise might, however, prove invaluable, especially if this incident was connected to Chevalier’s disappearance.

“I’m not certain that’s wise,” he began.“You know?—”

“On the contrary, mon cher,” Leon interjected smoothly, “as the French representative in this investigation, I have a diplomatic obligation to observe all aspects of this case.”His grey eyes glinted with determination.“Besides, I speak the language of academia as fluently as you do.Perhaps between us, we might extract more information than either could alone.”

Rufus cleared his throat.“He has a point, Evander.”

Evander mulled this over a moment before sighing.“Very well.But I must ask that you follow my lead.You know how difficult the Institute can be.”

“Mais oui,” Leon replied with a slight bow.“I shall be the very soul of discretion.”

Evander narrowed his eyes.“The last time you said that, we ended up in Rigley’s office and had to stand there and endure a twenty-minute lecture on why mages shouldn’t duel in the dining hall.”

Leon shrugged.“You must admit, that imbecile deserved it.”

Evander’s mouth twitched.The idiot who had insulted the Frenchman had been built like a brick house and had a nasty reputation for bullying those he deemed weaker than him.Being repeatedly slammed face first into the ceiling of the dining hall with wind magic had fast remedied that unpleasant situation.Even the prospect of having to foot the bill for the repair hadn’t deterred Leon’s enthusiasm during the incident.

The journey back to the Royal Institute was tense, the carriage filled with a hush broken only by Leon’s occasional observations about the London scenery where he sat next to Evander.

“You’re thinking very loudly, mon cher,” Leon murmured after some time, his voice low enough that only Evander could hear.“Your brow always furrows in that particular way when you’re piecing together a puzzle.”

Evander met his gaze briefly.“Some habits never change, I suppose.”

“Indeed,” Leon replied, a wistful smile playing on his lips.“Though many things do.”

The carriage pulled up to the Institute’s gates before Evander could respond to his enigmatic words.The atmosphere had changed markedly since their earlier visit.Students huddled in small groups across the courtyard, their expressions anxious as they whispered among themselves.Faculty members moved with purpose amidst them, robes billowing as they hurried between buildings.

Cecillia was waiting at the entrance, her face drawn with worry.

“Thank you for coming so quickly, your Grace.”

Evander made the introductions.“Professor, this is Leon Beaulieu.He’s a Special Arcane Investigator from Paris who will be working with us on this case.Leon, this is Professor Cecillia Harrington, a close colleague of Professor Whitley.”

Leon nodded politely to a surprised Cecillia.“Enchanté, Professor Harrington.”

She murmured a greeting and worried her lip for a moment, clearly eager to ask questions but conscious their surroundings were not suited to sharing confidential information.She ignored the curious stares of students and faculty alike and led them swiftly through the courtyard.

“Headmaster Rigley has granted you access to Thornfield’s quarters and Professor Whitley’s laboratory,” she explained in hushed tones.“Though I suspect it’s only because he fears the scandal should another disappearance become public knowledge.”

“Has Headmaster Rigley ordered a full accounting of all students and staff?”Evander asked as they climbed the grand staircase.

“Yes.The entire Institute is in an uproar about it.”

“And so it should be,” Rufus muttered.“It will be a miracle if this doesn’t make the gossip rags.”

“Has anything been disturbed?”Shaw asked sharply.

Cecillia shook her head.“Not to my knowledge.I insisted the rooms be sealed until your arrival.”

She led them through a maze of corridors and up several flights of stairs to one of the male student dormitories.Unlike the grand public spaces of the Institute, these quarters were more austere, though still far more luxurious than most university accommodations.