Page 50

“Focus, Elvana. Let intention guide you.”

I stiffened, startled by the sudden intrusion of its voice. "Oh, you'll help me now, but you didn't think to warn me about the damned coffee, did you?" I whispered under my breath, a wry note of annoyance lacing my tone.

There was a brief pause—a moment suspended in time—before the amulet chuckled, a sound that seemed to ripple through the air like a soft laugh.

“I knew you weren't in grave danger, Elvana. Only a minor disturbance to your equilibrium,” the Raven’s Echo’s tone was both reassuring and mischievous.

“ Now, listen well: To forge a mental shield strong enough to ward off an intrusive jinx, you must combine unwavering focus, unyielding intention, and—most critically—complete emotional control. Clear your mind, quiet your fears, and let your will be your guide.”

I exhaled slowly, feeling the tension ease from my shoulders as the amulet's words settled into my consciousness. I closed my eyes for a moment, centering my thoughts. The amulet’s whisper became a steady refrain in my mind.

I envisioned a barrier, radiant and unbreakable, forming around my thoughts—a shield that would deflect the errant magic of a sleep jinx with ease.

The room’s ambient sounds—the rustling of parchment, the faint hum of incantations from other pairs—faded away, replaced by the quiet, insistent beat of my heart.

"Ready?" Samael asked, his dark eyes searching mine.

I nodded, focusing on building the invisible barrier around my mind—imagining it as a wall of light, impenetrable and strong.

“Somnum Ducta.” he whispered, and the words seemed to wrap around me like silk, seeping through the cracks in my hastily constructed defenses. A heaviness tugged at my limbs, a gentle but insistent call to surrender to slumber.

I pushed back, reinforcing my wall, but the magic was subtle, insidious—not battering at my defenses but flowing around them, looking for an entrance. I tightened my grip on the image of that wall of light and channeled my willpower until the encroaching heaviness began to ebb away.

A flicker of triumph blossomed inside me as I realized the jinx was rebuffed.

My mental shield held fast, impervious to the seductive pull of enforced slumber.

I opened my eyes slowly, catching the faint nod of approval from Samael.

A silent exchange passed between us—a shared victory in the delicate dance of incantation and will.

Around me, the classroom came alive with the sound of others attempting the same. The room, previously steeped in a focused hush, now rippled with the gentle hum of magical energy. Pairs of students raised their voices in unison, summoning defenses against the sleep-inducing jinx.

Some students performed perfectly, their shields holding true, while others faltered. I could hear a few murmurs of dismay as a couple of students, overwhelmed by the spell, slumped forward onto their desks, their eyes fluttering closed in peaceful, unintended slumber.

"Expergisce!" Professor Maximort’s commanding voice shattered the momentary lull, and with a flourish of his hands, he sent a burst of awakening magic across the room. One by one, the drowsy students jerked awake, blinking in confusion as the effects of the incantation dissipated.

"Be vigilant," he intoned, his tone as sharp as it was melodic, "for even the most benign spell can be dangerous if not met with a strong will.

" His eyes swept the room, ensuring every pair was focused once more.

I exchanged a brief, reassuring glance with Bethany, who sat across from Edric.

Her eyes twinkled with mischief as she attempted the jinx.

Professor Maximort circled the room once more, his gaze lingering on each student as he offered terse nods of approval. "Excellent progress," he pronounced, his voice echoing off the vaulted ceiling.

The clocktower tolled, its deep resonance vibrating through the ancient stones of the classroom.

Professor Maximort nodded curtly, dismissing us with a wave of his hand.

"Your shields are improving," he announced, "though some of you still have the mental fortitude of a sleepy kitten.

" His gaze lingered on Julian, who merely smirked in response.

"Next class, we'll attempt more complex mental intrusions. Be prepared."

As students gathered their belongings, the usual cacophony of scraping chairs and murmured conversations filled the air. I tucked my notes into my satchel, the weight of exhaustion finally settling over me despite my successful defense against the sleep jinx.

I felt the weight of the Raven's Echo against my chest. It had fallen silent again, its momentary guidance replaced by a cool, expectant presence. Bethany appeared at my side, her curls bouncing with purpose.

“Well,” she whispered, flashing a look behind us, “that went better than expected. I thought for sure Maximort was going to turn you into a cautionary tale after last night’s... dramatics.”

She didn’t spare a glance for Samael as he gathered his things. He gave me a brief nod before striding toward the exit. Julian and Edric followed, the latter glancing over his shoulder once—just long enough to catch Bethany’s eye before she quickly looked away.

“You’re playing with fire,” she murmured as we moved into the hall. “We both know we can’t trust those boys.”

“I know,” I said, adjusting the strap of my satchel. “But he did save my life.”

The corridor outside buzzed with voices and motion, the scent of old parchment and flickering spell residue heavy in the air. Students brushed past us, laughter and footfalls echoing off the stone walls.

We were halfway to the grand staircase when a voice cut through the noise.

“Vale. A word?”

Julian stood just behind us, posture casual, but his eyes sharp and amused. Edric lingered a step or two back, arms folded, watching Bethany with a look that could have melted glass. There was something unreadable in his expression—interest, maybe, or something more calculating.

Samael was already gone.

Bethany stiffened at my side, her fingers tightening on her satchel strap. “What do you want?” she asked, aiming for breezy, but the edge in her tone betrayed her.

Julian gave a slow shrug. “Just a conversation. Preferably one that doesn’t begin with open hostility.”

Edric stepped forward then, eyes never leaving Bethany. His voice was smooth as polished silver.

“Is that how you greet everyone who admires your sharp tongue and finer taste in earrings?” He gestured faintly toward the cluster of moonstone studs lining her ear.

Bethany blinked, caught between suspicion and the faintest smile. “Flattery from Norwood’s shadow? That’s bold.”

“I prefer the term ‘well-dressed threat,’” Edric replied, one corner of his mouth lifting. “But I’ll answer to ‘bold,’ if it means you’ll keep looking at me like that.”

Bethany’s brow arched. “Like what?”

“Like you’re deciding whether to hex me or humor me. I find either outcome intriguing.”

Julian rolled his eyes. “Can we focus, please, before Edric writes an ode?”

Julian’s smile was all polish and no warmth. “Just a friendly conversation,” he said, stepping closer. “About mutual interests.”

“We don’t have mutual interests,” I replied, forcing my voice to stay even.

His gaze flicked toward the last of the students filing out of the classroom before returning to mine. “Not here,” he said, and without waiting for agreement, turned on his heel.

With Bethany tight beside me, we followed them into the corridor.

The sconces cast a flickering gold light, shadows crawling over stone walls and shifting across Julian’s back as he led us deeper.

He stopped at a narrow alcove, tucked between two arched windows, where a carved raven sat atop a weathered plinth—its stone wings spread as if mid-flight, its obsidian eyes glinting like secrets.

“We know what you’re looking for,” Edric said, his voice soft and smooth, the kind of refined tone that could carry a threat or a compliment without ever changing pitch. “The relics. The Vale Sisters’ artifacts.”

My breath caught.

The Raven’s Echo warmed suddenly against my skin—one long pulse. Warning or welcome, I couldn’t tell.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lied, the words brittle and far too slow.

Bethany stepped slightly ahead, her shoulders squared. “Why would that concern either of you?”

“We’re concerned,” Edric said, his gaze sliding from me to Bethany and back again, “because we could help. You’re chasing legends across a map made of riddles and luck. We have connections. Access. Influence.”

His eyes lingered on Bethany, warm and slow. “And, with the right incentive, we’re not so bad to work with.”

Bethany’s expression didn’t shift, but her grip on her satchel tightened. “What’s the catch?”

Edric’s lips curved. “Only that you trust us.”

Julian gave a quiet snort, folding his arms. “Which, to be fair, is more than most people manage.”

I shook my head, keeping my tone cool and final. “Some things aren’t meant to be shared. Especially not with boys who think charm is a shortcut to trust.”

Bethany mirrored my stance, crossing her arms. “We’re not interested in your gossip or your help, thanks.”

Julian’s grin twitched, just slightly, before he smoothed it back into place. He leaned in, his voice dropping.

“All right. Perhaps our assistance isn’t what you need right now.” His smile sharpened. “Though, sometimes things make more sense when viewed from a different angle. You might find a little charm goes a long way.”

Before I could reply, Edric shifted his weight and stepped forward, eyes never leaving Bethany.

“In fact,” he said, voice smooth as silk, “Bethany... I’ve been meaning to ask. How would you feel about joining me at the Winter Ball?”

Time stopped.

Bethany blinked, utterly thrown. “You... what?”

Edric didn’t falter. “As my date,” he said simply. “A friendly invitation. You strike me as someone who could use a little mischief... and I suspect you’d look stunning under the lanternlight.”

Her cheeks flushed instantly. I saw the exact moment her composure wavered.

Julian, ever the opportunist, added with a wink, “It’ll be a night to remember, Beth. You might even enjoy yourself.”

Bethany looked at me, wide-eyed, as if I might rescue her. But before I could, her voice slipped out in a breathless rush.

“Fine,” she blurted. “I’ll go with you.”

A hush settled over the moment—like we were all waiting to see if she’d take it back. But she didn’t.

Edric’s smile softened as if she’d given him something precious. He inclined his head.

“Excellent. I’ll make sure it’s a night worth remembering.”

Julian gave a small, satisfied laugh, and with a shared glance between them—equal parts smug and triumphant—they vanished back into the moving tide of students.

I stared after them, still trying to process what I’d just witnessed. “Bethany... what just happened?”

She gave a helpless little laugh and tucked a loose curl behind her ear. “I panicked,” she confessed. “Edric smiled—like really smiled—and I short-circuited. I don’t even know what I agreed to. He’s too beautiful to think straight around.”

I arched a brow. “So now you’re sprinting toward the dance floor with the enemy because he has nice cheekbones?”

“I’m vulnerable,” she replied, deadpan. “I’m weak. And he weaponized dimples.”

I let out a low chuckle. “This from the girl who was ready to hex him five minutes ago.”

She elbowed me gently. “Please. You fell for the first dark-haired brooder who blinked in your direction.”

I gasped, clutching my chest. “How dare you. I am immune to jawlines.”

Bethany snorted. “Uh-huh. And pigs fly.”

“With the right incantation, they do,” I said, unable to keep the laugh from escaping.

We started walking again, the tension finally lifting. Bethany glanced at me with a grin and raised an invisible goblet.

“To questionable decisions and beautiful mistakes,” Bethany said, lifting her imaginary glass.

I raised mine with a smirk. “And to the chaos that follows.”

“And to the world’s most charming charlatans,” I added, nodding toward the corridor where Julian and Edric had vanished.

Bethany’s laugh rang out, bright and unapologetic. “We’re in so much trouble.”

“I think that’s half the fun.”

She grinned, linking her arm with mine. “Lead the way, oh wise one,” she quipped, as we followed the remaining students down the narrow corridor.