Page 19 of The Banshee and the Warlock

"Nothing happened," I respond. "He made me some tea, we flirted a bit, but then he shut down and ran off. Hardly the behaviour of someone who's interested in me."

"Maybe. Or he might have had a good reason to run away. Did you talk about forever, or anything foolish like that?"

"Of course not."

"Maybe he was just trying to control himself," she responds.

I frown and tear off the outside of my pastry so I can eat it. "I don't know what that would even mean."

"He's a dark warlock, right?"

I nod. "That's what he said."

"I've heard rumours about what happens when they lose control. It's not pretty."

"Oh?" I eat some of my pastry, trying to work out why the ominous statement doesn't fill me with much dread.

"If you want to know more, you probably have to ask him," she says. "I don't really know much more than rumours, but I've heard people around the academy talking about it. Their eyes glow and everything."

"That's just when he does magic," I respond. "The eye-glowing thing. Whenever he does a spell, they glow purple."

"Maybe it's nothing." She grabs another croissant. "But maybe it's not. I mean, you've seen one aspect of my magic, but you haven't been turned into stone." She gestures towards her hair.

"How are you avoiding that, by the way?"

"Gorgon secrets." She taps her nose.

I snort. "Really?"

"Yep. Can't tell you how I avoid turning people into stone. You might decide that the best thing to do is to use me against your enemies."

"That seems like a stretch."

"You haven't told me the secrets of your magic," she points out.

"That's because they're so secret that even I don't know them. The only thing I can guess is that something about it makes me sleepwalk."

"Maybe you're a Nightmare," she muses.

"A what?"

"A Nightmare," she repeats.

"Yes, I heard you. I just don't know what that is."

"Oh, they're supposed to sit on people's chests while they're asleep and bring them bad dreams." The way she says it makes it sound as if it's no big deal.

"That's horrific." But why else would I have been out of bed after hours? I dismiss the train of thought. I'm not giving other people nightmares, I'm having them myself, which is a whole different thing. I hope.

"There'll be ways to control it if you are one," she assures me. "You're not going to go around attacking people who don't deserve it."

"I doubt anyone would deserve it," I point out.

"Maybe your warlock's friend," she mutters, almost rolling her eyes in the process. "I wouldn't mind you making his nights terrible."

I snort. "You could do that yourself if you turned him into stone."

"Don't think I haven't threatened to, he just makes crude jokes about how he's already rock hard."