Page 5 of Hex Appeal (Grimm Mawr #5)

C eries stared at her rejected curriculum proposal in the darkening classroom. Her quill tried to pat the papers consolingly, though it couldn't resist adding a tiny broken heart in the margin. Ceries stared at her rejected curriculum proposal in the darkening classroom as the setting sun painted dramatic shadows across her desk. Her quill tried to pat the papers consolingly, though it couldn't resist adding a tiny broken heart in the margin alongside what appeared to be the world's smallest violin drawn in surprisingly detailed ink.

"He didn't even read it," she told her empty classroom. The practice dummies in the corner sagged in sympathy, one of them miming a dramatic faint. Her hair shifted to frustrated crimson. "Twenty pages of safety protocols, modified casting methods, practical applications—and he just said no like I was suggesting we teach students to juggle unstable potions for the school talent show."

She pulled out Thorncraft's notes from her hiring interview. There it was in black and white, underlined with the self-important flourish that characterized all his handwriting: "Looking to modernize our defensive magic curriculum... need fresh perspectives... particularly interested in practical applications..."

Going over Mal's head felt wrong, like stealing someone's wand when they weren't looking. But wasn't her first duty to her students? To giving them real tools for self-defense? To making sure they weren't left with just theory when faced with actual danger?

"He was completely unreasonable," she argued with her charm bracelet, which was trying to tug her toward his office with the persistence of a matchmaking aunt. "Something about twenty-three students... but he won't even explain."

The memory of pain in his eyes made her hair shift to worry-blue. There was clearly more to his resistance than just being traditional. But how could she help if he wouldn't tell her? How could she understand when he kept shutting down every time she got close to the truth?

"This isn't about him," she told her accessories firmly. "This is about student safety. And Trustee Thorncraft did hire me specifically to modernize the curriculum..."

Her reflection in the window looked unconvinced, hair shifting to a shade that could only be described as "ethical quandary purple." The bracelet gave a dejected little chime, like a tiny bell calling a surrender.

She paced her classroom, torn between professional obligation to her students and her growing feelings for Malachai. Her instincts said something wasn't right about Thorncraft's eager support, but if Mal wouldn't even consider her research... Her charm bracelet gave another warning tingle as she reached for the door, but she pushed the feeling aside. Students' safety had to come first, didn't it?"

But she had to try. For her students. For Irideane who took three seconds to cast a shield charm that wouldn't save her in a real crisis. For Tommy who'd finally overcome his anxiety about defensive magic and was now eager to learn more.

Gathering her research and her resolve, she headed for Thorncraft's office. As she walked down the corridors, Malta Kenobrie ran up to her.

"'Is it true?' Malta asked, her voice dropping to a whisper. “About you and Principal Starcatcher?”

“What?” Ceries felt her hair flash panic-purple.

“The arguing,' Malta clarified. “About the advanced hexes. Everyone's talking about it. Some of us think he's being too cautious, but others...” she hesitated. “Well, Chaume's older brother was at Windermoore Academy when something went wrong with a hex demonstration. He said it was really bad.'"

“What type of bad?” Ceries asked, her heartbeat still trying to go back to normal.

“I don’t know. I should get to class.” Malta teleported out of the hallway with a flash of light and the lingering smell of brimstone and peanuts.

***

T HORNCRAFT'S OFFICE practically screamed "I'm important and have excessive amounts of money." Unlike Principal Starcatcher's practical, efficient organization, everything here was calculated to impress—from the mahogany desk large enough to land small flying creatures to the pretentious magical artifacts that served no purpose except to glow impressively.

"Ms. Frostwind!" Thorncraft smiled warmly, the picture of benevolent authority in his tailored robes that probably cost more than her monthly salary. "How delightful. How are you settling in?"

"Very well, sir," she lied, because saying ‘ I slept with my boss before I knew he was my boss and now we're locked in a passionate disagreement about hexes' seemed inappropriate. "Though I've run into some resistance regarding my curriculum proposals."

"Ah yes." Thorncraft's smile turned sympathetic, though something about it reminded her of the way her cat looked at injured birds. "Principal Starcatcher can be rather traditional in his approaches." His tone suggested this was a diplomatic understatement on par with calling a dragon somewhat warm-blooded.

"Tell me about your proposals. I'm all ears." He gestured toward the chair across from his desk, which obligingly slid out for her like an eager puppy.

Her hair brightened with hope as she spread out her research. "The Bewildering Fog Hex, properly modified, provides crucial defensive options for students. I've developed specific safety protocols—"

"Excellent." Thorncraft leaned forward with such obvious interest that her charm bracelet retreated an inch up her sleeve in suspicion. "This is exactly why I hired you, Ms. Frostwind. We desperately need to modernize our approach to defensive magic. Bring it into this century."

"Principal Starcatcher disagrees," she said, studying Thorncraft's reaction carefully.

"Yes, well, he's too rigid about certain spells. Understandable, given his... history. He has always been resistant to change. Ever since the Windermoore incident—which, between us, was greatly exaggerated in the reports. A few students confused for a couple of hours, hardly the catastrophe he makes it out to be.” Something about his dismissive tone rang false.

“What exactly happened there?”

“Well ... It’s not important right now.” Thorncraft waved away whatever he'd been about to say, his dismissal so hasty it practically left skid marks in the air. "Teaching the Bewildering Fog Hex is precisely what we discussed in your interview, isn't it? Practical applications, real-world defensive options. I'm delighted you're following through."

Her hair shifted to a relieved-rose color as she detailed her modifications to the hex.

Thorncraft nodded approvingly at each safety measure, asked intelligent questions about her protocols, and generally behaved like someone who'd finally found the perfect implement to achieve a long-desired goal.

"Outstanding work," he said finally, stamping a magical seal of approval on her proposal with such enthusiasm that the desk shook. "Consider it approved. Effective immediately."

"But Principal Starcatcher—" she began, her bracelet chiming a warning.

"Reports to the Board of Trustees, of which I am chairman." Thorncraft's smile was benevolent, though his eyes glittered with something that made her charm bracelet retreat further up her sleeve. "I'll handle any concerns. You focus on giving our students the modern defensive education they deserve."

Her hair glowed with validation-gold at having her ideas approved, though her charm bracelet drooped guiltily like a dog who'd eaten the magical homework.

"Thank you, sir. I know this will help keep students safer."

"I'm sure it will." Was there a glint of satisfaction in his eyes? Something beyond professional approval? "I'll inform Principal Starcatcher myself."

As she left his office, her excitement at having her curriculum approved battled with a nagging feeling that she'd just become a pawn in some game she didn't understand. Her magical accessories were unusually quiet, which was never a good sign.

***

M ALACHAI STARED AT Thorncraft's curriculum approval as if it might transform into something less infuriating if he glared at it long enough. His tie cinched tight with suppressed emotion, practically cutting off his air supply in solidarity with his outrage. She'd gone over his head. After everything he'd said about safety and control. After he'd practically begged her to understand without having to relive his worst professional nightmare.

"Sir?" His secretary poked her head in, looking apologetic. "Ms. Frostwind is here about the revised curriculum schedule."

Perfect. His tie attempted to strangle him with renewed vigor while his watch chain drooped in what appeared to be anticipatory embarrassment.

She entered looking professional and determined, though her hair flickered with uncertain-violet streaks that betrayed her discomfort. At least she had the decency to look conflicted about her end-run around his authority.

"Ms. Frostwind." Ice could have taken lessons from his tone. Polar bears would have shivered. "I see you found a way around proper procedures."

"I followed proper procedures." Her hair flashed defensive-red. "Trustee Thorncraft hired me specifically to modernize the curriculum. He told me in my interview that the school wants these changes."

"So you went behind my back." He tapped Thorncraft's approval with one finger, as if touching it properly might contaminate him.

"I went through the chain of command after you refused to even look at my research." Her voice rose slightly, frustration threading through her words. "I tried to show you everything I'd done to address potential problems—"

"Because I know exactly how dangerous that hex can be." The memory flashed unbidden—screams, confusion, twenty-three pairs of panicked eyes lost in a fog that wasn't supposed to spread that far or last that long.

"Then help me make it safer." She stepped closer, hair cycling through frustration-red and pleading-purple. "Work with me instead of just shutting everything down. You have experience with this hex. You know what can go wrong. Who better to help ensure it doesn't happen again?"

"You lost that option when you went to Thorncraft." But even as he said it, he knew he was being unfair. He hadn't given her much choice.

"What choice did I have? You won't even explain why you're so against this. Twenty-three students. Windermoore Academy. What happened? Why won't you tell me?"

"That's not relevant to this discussion." The lie tasted bitter.

"It's completely relevant. Something made you this afraid of hexes."

"Afraid?" His perfect control cracked like ice in spring, emotions he'd kept carefully frozen breaking through. "You think this is about fear? This is about a hex that can spiral out of control in seconds. About students who think they know better than safety protocols. About—" He cut himself off, hands clenched on his desk until his knuckles turned white.

Her hair shifted to sympathy-silver, softening along with her expression. She moved toward him, but he stepped back, unable to handle her compassion on top of everything else.

"Mal..." Her voice gentled, reaching for him where her hand couldn't. "Whatever happened..."

"Principal Starcatcher," he corrected coldly, retreating behind formality like a shield charm. "Since we're being so professional about going through proper channels."

Her hair flinched to hurt-gray, as if he'd physically struck her. "I was trying to do the right thing for our students."

"By betraying my trust?"

"I didn't—" Her words cut off as Thorncraft swept in without knocking, his timing so perfect it was suspicious.

"Ah, discussing the new curriculum?" His smile held triumph barely disguised as professional interest. "I trust you're being supportive of Ms. Frostwind's innovative methods, Principal Starcatcher?"

Malachai's tie went rigid enough to stand at attention. "Ms. Frostwind and I were just discussing proper procedures for curriculum changes."

"Excellent. Though I remind you that all staffing decisions, including disciplinary actions, require board approval." Thorncraft's benevolent smile didn't reach his eyes, which remained calculating and cold. "We wouldn't want to lose such a promising young teacher or a venerable principal over procedural disagreements."

The threat was clear as enchanted crystal. Magical objects throughout the office seemed to hold their breath, inkwells freezing mid-bubble.

"Now," Thorncraft continued, clearly enjoying his power play, "I believe you both have more productive things to do. I look forward to seeing the Bewildering Fog Hex properly incorporated into our defensive magic curriculum."

He swept out, robes billowing importantly, leaving them in crackling silence filled with unspoken words and wounded feelings. Ceries's hair cycled through regret-blue and determination-gold, unable to settle on a single emotion.

"I wasn't trying to betray your trust," she said quietly, sincerity evident in every syllable. "I just want to protect our students."

"Understood." His voice was pure principal again, all personal feelings buried under professional distance. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."

She left, closing the door with a gentleness that somehow hurt more than if she'd slammed it. The soft click felt like an ending.

Malachai slumped in his chair, tie finally loosening its death grip on his neck. They were in even more trouble than before. Because despite her going behind his back, despite the professional boundaries she'd crossed, despite everything...

He still wanted to argue magical theory with her until her hair turned that perfect shade of passionate conviction. Still wanted to kiss that stubborn determination right off her face. Still found himself admiring her courage in fighting for what she believed was right.

Worse, part of him wondered if she was right about the hex. About giving students real defensive options. About preparing them for a world that wouldn't wait for them to master basic theory before throwing dangerous situations their way.

His watch chain drooped mournfully, pointing toward the door she'd just exited like a compass that had lost its true north.

Even his magical accessories were taking her side.

A soft knock interrupted his brooding. 'Enter,' he called, expecting it to be a student. Instead, Headmistress Raven's raven familiar flew in, dropped a sealed note on his desk, and departed without waiting for a response. The note simply read: Be patient. Not all is as it seems. -R

She was so mysterious.

Through the window, he could see Ceries crossing the courtyard, her back straight but her hair still cycling through shades of regret and resolve. A group of students immediately surrounded her, faces eager as they asked questions. Even from this distance, he could see how she lit up when teaching, how her entire being focused on helping them learn.

Just like he used to be. Before Windermoore. Before twenty-three students ended up in the hospital wing because he'd been too confident, too willing to push boundaries.

Before he'd lost his nerve along with his passion.

An unexpected thought struck him: what if her modifications really did make the hex safer? What if her fresh perspective could prevent what happened at Windermoore? What if together, they could create something better than either could alone?

His tie gave a hopeful little twitch.

Maybe there was still a way to salvage this situation. To protect the students while also respecting her innovations. To find common ground beyond their attraction.

The only problem was that he'd have to explain Windermoore. Would have to relive his worst failure. Would have to trust her with his deepest professional shame.

Through the window, Ceries demonstrated a shield charm, her movements confident and precise. A student's attempt wavered, but instead of taking over, she gently guided their hands into the correct position, her patience evident even from a distance.

His watch chain gave an encouraging little tug toward the window.

Maybe it was time to stop running from the past. Maybe it was time to trust someone again—professionally and perhaps personally.

Maybe Ceries Frostwind, with her color-changing hair and stubborn determination, was exactly what Grimm Mawr Academy needed.

What he needed.

His tie straightened slightly, as if preparing for a difficult but necessary conversation.

Tomorrow. He'd tell her everything tomorrow.

But for now, he had to figure out how to address Thorncraft's obvious manipulation. Because one thing was becoming increasingly clear: the trustee had never cared about student safety or curriculum improvements.

He had another agenda entirely. And he was using them both as pawns.

The question was: what was Thorncraft's real game?