Across the room, Amelia took a packet of gummies from Arthur. She didn't smile. But her shoulders dropped, just an inch.
"Redemption Arc," Kai whispered. "I love a good Redemption Arc."
"Don't get too attached," Rhett warned. "She's still a Vance. Snakes don't stop biting just because they're hungry."
"Maybe," I said. "Or maybe she just needs a reason not to bite."
I looked at the "Compliance Pin" on Chloe's lapel. The little green symbol of Marrow's control.
Marrow was dividing us. Turning us against each other. 'Good Standing' vs 'Radical Elements'.
But in the corner, a Human Archivist and a Fallen Princess were sharing lunch.
"We need to recruit them," I said suddenly.
"Who?" Lucien asked.
"Amelia and Arthur. They have access to the deep archives. Amelia knows the elite families—she knows who Marrow is courting. Arthur knows the history."
"Lina," Rhett groaned. "Amelia hates you. She literally tried to hex your hair off last semester."
"The enemy of my enemy," I said, standing up. "Is my research assistant. Come on. Class starts in ten minutes. We have a war to plan."
9
The Quad was bathed in afternoon sunlight, a peaceful, idyllic scene of students lounging on the grass, throwing frisbees, and practicing levitation spells.
It was a lie.
I could feel the tension humming under the surface like a high-voltage wire. The students with the green "Compliance Pins" sat in tight clusters, eyeing the un-pinned students with suspicion. The easy inter-house mingling was gone. The Witches sat with Witches. The Wolves with Wolves.
Marrow’s "Unity" looked a lot like segregation.
"It feels wrong," Kai murmured, walking beside me. "The earth feels... tight. Like it's holding its breath."
"Just keep moving," Rhett said, his eyes scanning the perimeter. "We get to the library, we meet with Amelia and Arthur, we get the intel."
"I still can't believe you convinced Amelia to help us," Lucien said, sounding impressed.
"I bribed her," I admitted. "I promised to get Ivy to brew her a potion that removes 'stress-induced acne' and revenge hexes."
"Ah," Kai nodded. "The currency of queens."
We were halfway across the Quad when it happened.
A scream.
It wasn't a scream of surprise or playfulness. It was a scream of pure, unadulterated terror.
I spun around.
Near the fountain, a group of sophomores were gathered. In the center, a young Fae boy was on his knees, clutching his chest.
But he wasn't just clutching it. He wasglowing.
His magic—usually a soft, pink light—was pouring out of him in violent, jagged bursts. It arced like lightning, striking the ground, the fountain, the people around him.
"Get back!" someone shouted. "He's overloading!"
