Without my friends, the courtyard feels enormous and empty. Many of the other carriages have already departed, and campus feels quieter by the minute.
But deep in my chest, a thread still lingers, and I know that Severin is still on campus somewhere. Knowing he’s here settles me.
I draw in a slow breath, then let it out in a puff of fog.
Then I turn and head back toward the castle.
Because it’s time for my demonstration.
THE CORRIDORS ARE NEARLY SILENT as I make my way to the elemental magic wing. Torches flicker in sconces along the stone walls, their flames dancing in the cool draft drifting through the castle. And with every step, I remind myself that this is what I’ve been working toward, what I’ve dedicated so much of my time and energy to.
And, most of all, I remind myself that I’m ready.
I can do this.
When I get to the elemental magic practice chamber, the door is standing open, and light voices drift out from inside. One of them is Headmistress Moonhart, but I don’t recognize the other. Which means it’s probably someone from the collective.
I pause at the threshold and take a steadying breath, trying to ignore the strong tug just beneath my sternum. Then I step into the room.
The space is vast and circular. Frost twinkles on the windows lining one wall, muting the sunlight filtering through. At the far end of the chamber sit four figures: HeadmistressMoonhart, Professor Azula, and two people dressed in the blue-gray cloaks of the Arcanum Collective.
They all look up at me.
I walk to the center of the room, my boots thudding softly across the stone floor. Headmistress Moonhart smiles.
“Allow me to introduce Miss Maeve Vandermere,” the headmistress says, holding out one hand to gesture to me.
“Miss Vandermere,” one of the board members says as I approach. “Thank you for your punctuality. We’ll be able to begin right on time.”
“Of course,” I say. “Thank you for this opportunity.”
The other board member—a witch with bronze skin and gold eyes—studies me thoughtfully. “Headmistress Moonhart speaks highly of your progress this term.”
A small smile tugs on my mouth, and I dip my head politely. “I’ve worked very hard this semester. I hope to make your journey here worth it.”
“We hope for the same,” the witch says. “We’ll begin shortly. You may take a moment to prepare.”
I nod once. Then I remove my academy robe and go to hang it on a hook beside the door. The air in the chamber is cold against my skin, but I use the chill to center myself. I take a moment to roll out my shoulders and steady my breathing, my fingers already tingling at my sides.
This space is familiar to me. I’ve practiced here innumerable times since starting my first year at the academy. And even the walls feel comforting now, after watching me try, fail, and flounder so many times. This academy has shaped me, and this is my moment to show them everything I’ve learned.
Everything I’ve become.
I’ll not shrink from it now.
My magic is ready.
I retake my place in the center of the room and reach up to tie my long hair back. And at that moment, footsteps sound behind me. And I know who it is without having to look.
The thread in my chest warms and pulses, stronger than it has all week, pleased with his proximity. I still don’t turn, trying to disguise my surprise.
“Professor D’Arques,” Headmistress Moonhart says. “So pleased you could join us. We’re about ready to begin.”
I finally glance over my shoulder. Severin closes the door to the practice chamber, then turns, and I meet his eyes. A subtle shiver goes down my spine.
They’re almost black, all hints of crimson gone from his gaze. He’s wearing his typical charcoal-gray button-up beneath a crisp black vest, and though his hair is swept back and he looks tidy and professional, I don’t miss the dark circles beneath his eyes or the weariness in his expression.
Our bond tugs, trying to pull me toward him. But I resist.
