“Most of the people here have been sent by their parents or magic schools because of antisocial tendencies. Under the Pure Light initiative, this is a last resort for a lot of students.”
“Including you?” I asked carefully.
She jerked to a stop. She turned and glared at me. “That is none of your business.”
I flinched slightly but nodded. “Ok. Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”
Lyra stared daggers at me for a moment, looking me up and down. I widened my eyes innocently, my palms out, non-threatening. I lowered my head to hide my smile.
Inwardly I was chuckling.
Don’t be a smartass, Seph,I could imagine Sable say.
Something in her calmed, and I watched her aura slowly churn.
She pulled herself up, eyeing me with suspicion before finally going back to her tour.
“You will need to find yourself a safe group of people to surround yourself with. Like the library people. You could be a library person!” She smiled, but it was predator-like.
I forced myself to smile back. I hated to think what the library people were like.
“You’ll find your time here best spent if you stick to the right groups. We have a few light magic users—me included—who would be a more appropriate crowd to sit with in the cafeteria.”
“You want me to sit with you?” I asked. The thought filled me with unease.
“No.” She actually looked horrified. “God, no. A null? Please. There are others—lesser students. I’m sure you’ll find some. Otherwise, the library allows loners. The courtyard too, as long as you stay away from the oak grove.”
“What’s in the oak grove?”
Lyra’s lips curved. “The oak grove is where only the most refined students sit.” She glanced over her shoulder, eyes bright with pride. “It’s whereIsit.”
Once again, I felt her aura burn — that warm, cloying pressure trying to twist my emotions into obedience.
“You wouldn’t want to upset me by trying to butt into my turf, would you?” she purred.
I knew what I was supposed to feel. So I smiled. “Of course. I would never do that.”
“Great.” Her voice turned sugar-sweet again. “Now—upstairs.”
The dorms were situated in wings that were attached to the house. My room was on the right, in what Lyra called the Night Block.
“This is the only place we could put you. You have a roommate. Her name is Jess. She’s a nasty piece of work – a pyromaniac. So just stay out of her way.”
The corridor leading into the Night Block was narrower than the others — colder too. The windows here were smaller, their glass thick and clouded, warping the last of the afternoon light into strange shapes across the floor. A faint hum ran through the walls, like the building itself was holding its breath.
Lyra walked ahead, heels clicking a steady rhythm against the tiles. “We keep the more… challenging students in this section,” she said lightly. “It’s quieter that way. The walls are lined with magic dampeners – in fact the whole school is. So that should work in your favour, huh?”
She smiled at me like I was a child.
“Um. That’s good?”
She stopped at the last door on the right and produced a key card. The light above the reader blinked green, and the lock clicked open.
“Here we are.” She pushed the door open with the tip of her finger.
The air smelled faintly of disinfectant and damp wood. Two small rooms sat opposite each other, divided by a worn couch that had seen better years. The far wall held a narrow window with iron bars woven through the frame. Someone had scratched a line of tally marks into the sill.
The room on the left was a disaster—clothes scattered everywhere, dark jeans, combat boots, a leather jacket with silver studs along the collar. A single cigarette smouldered in a dish, trailing lazy smoke toward the ceiling.
