Shadows of Change (Arcanum Academy #1)

19. Finn

I keep my arm draped casually around Kaia's shoulders, but every muscle in my body is tense. Bob hovers anxiously nearby—good old Bob, always the first to sense trouble—while I watch this Darian character work his so-called charm.

"I'd be happy to help you explore other ways to... combust," Darian says, his voice dropping low enough to make the suggestion unmistakable. "Something tells me you burn hotter than you let on."

Oh, he did not just— Okay, maybe he's smoother than I gave him credit for. I feel Kaia's sharp intake of breath and see the way her shadows flicker and curl like smoke, responding to the heat in his words. Time to lighten the mood before this gets too intense.

"Careful there, Romeo," I quip, tightening my hold on Kaia ever so slightly. "Some of us are trying to keep the combustion metaphors strictly theoretical." I wiggle my eyebrows at her, trying to draw out that eye-roll I adore. "Though I have to admit, the light show would be spectacular."

Darian’s smile doesn’t waver, but something flashes in his eyes—recognition? He’s watching the shadows too closely, tracking their movements with too much interest. Most people either ignore them completely or, like Thorne, stare in obvious fascination. But he’s... studying them.

I catch Malrik’s eye across the room, and for once, we’re in perfect agreement. Whatever this guy’s deal is, he’s not just another student with a hero complex.

"So, Darian," I keep my tone light, playful. "That was some fancy shadow work. Don’t think I’ve seen anything quite like it before. Where did you say you trained?"

He doesn’t miss a beat. "Here and there. You pick things up when you travel."

Vague much? I’m about to press further when I feel Kaia’s shadows twist anxiously. Even Finnick, usually up for any chaos, seems to be keeping his distance from our new friend. That’s... not normal.

"Well, you’ll have to teach me that trick sometime," I say, knowing full well he won’t. "Always good to have another shadow specialist around. Right, Kaia?"

She looks up at me, and I see the confusion in her violet eyes. She’s sensing something’s off but can’t quite put her finger on it. I want to tell her what I’m seeing, how her shadows are practically screaming their distrust, but now isn’t the time.

Malrik finally materializes again at her other side, bringing with him that dangerous chill that usually makes me want to crack inappropriate jokes among other things. Right now, though, I’m grateful for it. Darian’s smile dims just slightly—point for Team Broody.

"I should go," Darian says smoothly. "But I look forward to seeing more of your... talents, Kaia." The way he says it makes me want to set something on fire. Preferably his perfectly styled hair.

Darian inclines his head, his storm-gray eyes lingering on Kaia’s for a moment too long. "Until next time," he says, his voice low and deliberate. As he walks away, the air feels heavier, as if his presence had left a shadow of its own.

Kaia relaxes slightly against me, her shadows immediately creeping closer, with Bob taking up his usual protective stance.

Good boy, Bob.

"Well," I say, trying to dispel the lingering tension, "he’s... intense."

Kaia snorts. "Says the guy who juggles fireballs for fun."

"Hey, my chaos is purely recreational. That guy?" I shake my head. "He’s playing a different game entirely."

I catch Malrik’s eye again, and this time there’s a whole silent conversation in that glance. We’re going to have to watch this one carefully.

"So," I grin down at Kaia, "about that combustion theory—"

She elbows me in the ribs, but the soft smile she tries to hide makes my chest ache. I’d make a thousand stupid jokes just to keep that smile there—and to keep anyone like Darian from taking it away.

"Shut up, Finn."

"Make me, Trouble." She has no idea how much I’d actually like her to try. And I don’t miss the smirk that crosses Malrik’s face. Looks like I’m not the only one.

The shadows dance around us, clearly relieved to return to our usual banter. But I don’t miss how they keep reaching toward Malrik, or how intently Bob is watching the door Darian just left through, his unease mirroring my own.