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“That may be true,” Evander said quietly, “but your failure to disclose this relationship may have compromised our investigation.”

Cecillia’s knuckles whitened on her lap.“Please, your Grace, don’t blame my uncle.”Her voice trembled a little as she gazed pleadingly at him.“I asked him not to reveal our connection when I first applied for a position here.I wanted to make my own way through the Institute, free from whispers and accusations of nepotism.”

“Yet, from what you revealed when we first met, it seems others already know your secret,” Evander observed.

Alarm widened Rigley’s eyes.“Is that true?!”He stared at his niece, stricken.

Cecillia hesitated before nodding miserably.“I didn’t want to burden you.”She reached over and clasped her uncle’s hand.“You have already done so much for me.”

Rigley swallowed and placed his fingers atop hers.

Evander’s expression softened slightly.He understood all too well the desire to forge one’s own path, independent of family connections.And it was clear to all in the room that uncle and niece cherished each other deeply.

“What is your connection to Professor Whitley’s research?”he finally asked Cecillia.

She took a tremulous breath, as if to steel herself.

“I possess an unusual magical ability.”Her jaw tightened as she met their stares.“I am what some call a hybrid mage.”

Evander’s pulse quickened.He masked his surprise behind a steady stare.

“Hybrid?”Rufus asked, confused.

Cecillia nodded reluctantly.“My primary element is water, but I also have affinity for light magic built into it.”

“Cor blimey,” Shaw mumbled.

Evander traded a tense look with a pale-faced Rufus.

As far as they knew, Ophelia was the only light mage in London.

“That’s exceedingly rare,” Leon said gravely.

“Yes,” Cecillia confirmed.“Walter became interested in my abilities several years ago.He believed that studying magical hybridity might lead to breakthroughs in our understanding of how magical gifts are inherited and develop with age.”

Evander wrinkled his brow.“Professor Chevalier evidently shared the same interest.”

Rigley visibly startled.

“Professor Chevalier?Do you mean Henri Chevalier, the Elemental Magic specialist working at the Paris Institute for the Arcane?”the headmaster asked sharply.

Evander realised belatedly that Rigley knew nothing about the French scientist’s disappearance.He briefed him about the reason for Leon’s presence in London.

“My God.”Rigley leaned back heavily in his chair, his expression ashen.“This is unfathomable.”He stared blindly at his desk for a moment.“I recently approved Walter’s leave.Though he didn’t specify the reason he was going to Paris, I gathered it had to do with his research.”

Something about Rigley’s troubled expression had Evander’s scalp prickling.

Intuition blasted through him, causing him to straighten in his chair.

“You know why they were researching rare magical abilities, don’t you?”

“What do you mean?”Cecillia shot a bewildered glance at Rigley.“Whitley never told anyone why?—”

Rigley stayed her words with a gentle touch upon her wrist.

“Magical transference,” he confessed quietly, his gaze meeting Evander’s unflinchingly.“Whitley was researching the theory that magical abilities might be transferable under certain conditions.”

Evander’s chest tightened painfully in the heavy silence, to the point he feared he would struggle to catch his next breath.He could tell from the way Leon had grasped the armrests of his chair in a white-knuckled grip that the same fear coursing through him was chilling the Frenchman’s blood.