Sounding weary now, Rowan answers, “Yes.”
With a slight frown, the professor glances down the hall. “Perhaps you should come into my office.”
He steps out of the doorway and leads us inside.
Professor Bellview’s office has a posh, old academia vibe, with leather chairs, a massive mahogany desk, and bookcases filled with leather-bound books, much like I expected to find in the Moss Hollow library. The walls are a deep burgundy, and random pieces of decor are sprinkled throughout the space—a glass terrarium housing a giant snail, a geode used as a paperweight, a set of brass rabbit bookends, and a massive glass jar filled with multicolored marbles.
“Have a seat.” Our host rounds his desk and sits in the gigantic office chair.
Professor Bellview is older, as expected, but even with his white hair, I wouldn’t guess him to be more than seventy-five. He must have inherited exceptional genetics.
I choose a chair across from the professor.
“It’s been a long time, Rowan,” he says when I’m settled.
“It has,” Rowan agrees, lifting off my shoulder and settling on the back of the chair beside me.
“What brings you here? I hope you’re not expecting me to fix this mess of yours. You know I can’t.”
That thought never occurred to me. Rowan doesn’t need my magic—he just needssomeoneto return him to his former self.
But wait.
“Why can’t you?” I ask the man.
Professor Bellview contemplates me like I’m a bit slow.
“Kit didn’t grow up around mages,” Rowan explains.
“Ah,” the professor says. “Pixie—of course.” He settles into his chair. “All right then, let’s have a quick Fae Magic 101 lesson.”
I nod to be polite, but I suspect this man is going to drive me mad.
“In a way, wieldable magic behaves like magnets—opposite magic attracts. Like magic repels. For example, high fae cannotuse their magic on other high fae. Leprechauns cannot charm other leprechauns. Sirens cannot enchant other sirens. And so on.”
When he pauses to make sure I’m following, I nod.
Satisfied, he continues, “Elves are the exception. They can use their magic on anyone and anything, even their own kind. In fact, their own magic is the only magic that may be successfully used on them.” He leans forward, clasping his hands on the desk. “So, you see, mages cannot use their magic on other mages. It simply doesn’t work. And high fae can’t use their magic on mages either. Can you tell me why?”
“Because they share blood,” I say, humoring him.
“Correct!” He beams at me as though I’m a model student.
Thankfully, I think he’s done with his impromptu lesson now. Maybe we can move on.
“But Rowan knows that,” he muses. “So here we are, back to my question. Why are you here?”
It takes Rowan a good hour to explain his complicated spell and where it went wrong.
The two mages are using technical terminology, so I only follow about half of what they’re saying.
“You made two rookie mistakes,” the professor says when Rowan is finished. “You experimented on yourself, and you didn’t buy your ingredients from a reliable source. What is Professor Myleorn constantly harping about?”
“Your spells are only as good as your ingredients,” Rowan answers, sounding a touch bitter.
“Yes, but specifically,spell safety,” the professor says, contemplating his former student. “What a mess you made for yourself.”
“Yes,” Rowan says stiffly, obviously not caring to be reminded of it.
