The first girl looks up from her schedule, eyeing me thoughtfully before her gaze flicks to my badge. “Hey, I’m Rozsen. You our other squadmate? Looks like you’re in the same commons as us.” Her voice is low and dry, filled with the heat of someone used to speaking her mind and not caring about the consequences.
I nod, offering a small smile, but before I can answer, the other girl beside her gives me a once-over, slow and deliberate.
She sighs dramatically. “Ugh, she might be too pretty to be friends with us, Roz. Those hazel eyes should come with a warning label.” Her mouth quirks. “But I’m liking thesexy librarian that could commit arsonvibe she’s got going on.”
I blink, caught off guard, unsure whether to laugh or be offended—but she grins and holds out her hand.
“I’m Elliot,” she says, her tone light and teasing.
I reach out and shake her hand, still a little stunned but warming quickly to her chaotic charm.
Rozsen just rolls her eyes. “Don’t mind that one. She speaks before she thinks most of the time.” She gives Elliot an exasperated shake of her head.
Eight of us in total make up Red Squad—four girls and four guys. Magnus tells us to grab our stuff for a quick campus tour as we head over to the commons to settle in.
The walk through campus feels surreal—every building, every tree-lined path, like walking through a story I should already know. Every step feels like retracing a trail someone carved for me long before I arrived. I still can’t shake the feeling that I’m being watched.
I came to Whittaker for answers. To try to understand more about the current running beneath my skin, the magick that clawed its way back into me after my father’s death, no longer content with the cage I built.
But I’d be lying if I said it was the only reason I’m here. There’s another I don’t let myself speak aloud. One with unruly hair and turquoise eyes, and a history I can’t quite seem to leave behind, no matter how hard I try.
* * *
After high school,my father moved us to Virginia—a small town, no highways, no fast-food restaurants, a little land for my mom to get as many silkie hens as she wanted. Acreage over politics was her request.
My best friend there was Alissa—and she had an older brother.
He was the kind of beautiful that stole your breath away,leaving only trouble in its wake. Tall. Confident. And a Magick…
Back then, he was always away at school, so I mostly admired him from afar—or from the numerous photographs strewn about Alissa’s house.
But all that changed a few months ago.
I thought it would be a fun summer fling, something reckless before real life began.
Some stories don’t feel like they start until you say a name that changes everything. His was Noa.
* * *
Magnus is talkingbut it’s not his voice that I hear in my mind. He points to the mess hall on the left, and I remember Noa telling me that the best pancakes are from the chef who always wears a pink hat.
The quad to the right is where most Whittaker gatherings are held.
The Garden Grove to the south is where the earth-wielders practice. Noa’s words float in the air like a spell, describing earth Magicks as grounded, steady, and “impossibly stubborn.”
I spy a low stone wall surrounding dark beds of soil and rows of herbs and trees. Deep-rooted vines cover shadowed lattice alcoves. Small water channels filter through the walls, providing natural irrigation for the space.Brilliant,I think as we pass.
“What the?—”
“Make it stop!”
“It wasn’t me.”
I look back at one of the water channels spouting like a fire hydrant over a group of students as they shout and scramble to get away.
My throat goes dry. Did I—? No. I clamp down on thethought before it takes root. My squad looks back curiously; a few of the boys snigger. Laughter echoes, but I don’t dare glance back again.
We pass by two girls standing by the garden wall. The brunette with bronze skin is staring amusedly at the cascading water, but the tall girl with silver-blonde hair beside her doesn’t laugh. Her gaze pins me instead, eyes narrowing like she knows more about what’s under my skin than I do.
