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But this dream had been different. Was her minimal use of white spells already stirring her scar? How would it react to her using Dark Magic?

The vials of direweed and serrumptase were safely tucked away in one of the drawers of her dresser. She had paid for the direweed with a splitting headache. She was so nauseated from all that booze, the thought of food made her almost vomit. When she closed her eyes again, she could still see the Wielder’s grin. He would love seeing her hungover from five shots. It would prove him right again.

She got dressed and made sure the Dark Magic pin on her vest was hidden by her hair. An hour later, Ella greeted her with a cup of coffee under the tree in the school courtyard.

“I brought you this,” Ella proclaimed as she held a pastry wrapped in a napkin toward her.

“Thank you.” Mira left out the fact that the sight of it made her stomach turn.

“You should have come to the party last night,” Ella said into the quiet. “It was fun.”

Mira could hardly answer with the truth—I did go…to illegally solicit ingredients for a potion.

“I was just so tired after a day of traveling,” she lied. “Did you ask Highmage Tinley about me changing faculties?”

Ella sighed, and her expression told Mira everything she needed to know.

“She said there was nothing they could do.”

It didn’t even feel disappointing because Mira hadn’t really expected anything else. “It’s all right. I just wanted to give it a try.”

Even through the cloud cover, the morning seemed entirely too bright. She ripped a piece from the pastry. It was flaky and soft, but she chewed it extra slowly, hoping that way it wouldn’t make her throw up.

“They have surprisingly good pastries,” Ella said. “Remember our first successful spell?”

“I would hardly call it successful.”

As kids, they had turned spinach into cake.

“It looked like cake,” Ella protested.

“And still tasted like spinach, which made things even worse.”

Ella’s infectious laugh made her smile. “How is your room?”

Mira shrugged. “Fine. I’m all by myself, which is nice in a way. What’s your first class?”

“Shielding. Yours?”

Mira wrapped her fingers around the warm coffee cup. “Combat.”

“That’s so exciting.”

The last word Mira would use to describe her current predicament was exciting. Despite her headache, she was already thinking about trying out her potion tonight now that she had the ingredients. First, she had to survive combat class with a major hangover. Theoretically, as a Caster, she could heal it with a white spell.

Reluctance. She heard the Wielder’s voice in her head again. Perhaps the vial of direweed hadn’t been worth all the trouble.

—

The Dark Magic symbol and Ivercrest’s logo shimmered in bright silver on the otherwise entirely black combat training suit. All that mattered to Mira was that it covered her scar. Combat focused on using the signifiers a Wielder already possessed. When she entered the training hall, she was very aware of the fact that she had none. Surely, she was the only student here without a single signifier. Fantastic. As if she needed anything else to set her apart from the rest of the students. It seemed pointless for her to be in combat class. Without a signifier, she couldn’t wield Dark Magic at all.

Highmage Obryn’s short gray hair stood out against his dark tweed jacket. Impatiently he watched students fill the room, which was equipped with training mats and dummies to test spells on.

She stood in the back, hoping not to draw attention to herself. An impossible task. Around her, students whispered and eyes shot her way accusingly. The Caster girl who was dragged into their department.

The two girls in front of her, however, had a different target for their gossip.

“Oh my spheres, it’s him, isn’t it?” the blonde asked the other.