Evie #2
“We’ll find Oliver.” He starts guiding me back to the first-year table. “But you can’t help anyone if you’re having a breakdown in the middle of breakfast.”
“I’m not having a breakdown.” My protest sounds weak, even to my own ears, and I don’t fight him any further.
When we reach the first-year table, I’m suddenly aware of everyone watching us. Nina’s abandoned her notebook, Felix is frozen mid-bite, and even Sam’s looking up from his book.
Jade’s standing at the edge of the table, her face pale.
“Are you okay?” She steps forward, reaching for me like she’s not sure I’ll accept the touch. “The chandeliers…”
“I’m fine.” The lie is automatic. “I just need to sit down.”
“I’ll check the training grounds and the Scorched Circles,” Kieran says, and then he’s gone before I can thank him, cutting through the dining hall with the quiet efficiency of a drawn blade.
His heat signature is a bright, steady flare weaving between cooler bodies, burning hotter than every person he passes. It doesn’t dim when he reaches the doors or waver when he disappears through them. It just cuts off, sharp and sudden, leaving coldness in its wake.
Jade guides me to my seat, her hand trembling where it grips my elbow.
“Here.” Felix pushes a glass of water to me. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”
“I’m not going to pass out,” I say, but I take the water anyway, my hands shaking badly enough that some of it sloshes over the rim. “I just need to find my brother.”
“Maybe he’s with Professor Thaddeus?” Sam offers. “Oliver’s in his advanced studies group, right? They could be having an early meeting.”
“Maybe,” I hear myself say.
After all, Oliver’s been spending a lot of time on his advanced studies coursework recently. He’s never been the type to devote more time than necessary to homework. And he’s been so distracted. Secretive and on edge, like he’s worried a threat’s going to jump out at him at any moment.
I should have pushed harder to find out what was wrong. I should have made him tell me. Why didn’t I make him tell me?
I’m yanked out of my thoughts when the dining hall doors open, every conversation dying as Headmistress Constance strides through the entrance.
“Sit,” she says, and every standing student drops into their seat like gravity tripled.
She moves to the center of the room, positioning herself between the student tables and the faculty section. Her hair, always perfectly pinned, has a few strands out of place. Her left hand is clenched at her side.
“I have an announcement.” She pauses, and her clenched hand trembles once before she stills it. “Professor Thaddeus Morgrave and third-year student Oliver Thorne are missing.”
The world tilts.
Oliver.
Missing.
The words don’t make sense.
“An investigation is underway,” she continues, cutting through the growing murmur of shocked voices. “The Council has been notified, and they’re sending three of their witches to assist. They’ll arrive this evening and be formally introduced tomorrow.”
Three Council witches.
The Council doesn’t send anyone for anything less than a catastrophe.
“All classes will proceed as scheduled.” Her gaze sweeps the room without landing on the first-year table. “Until further notice, combat training will be relocated from the Scorched Circles to indoor classrooms.”
I can’t look at her. I can’t look at anyone. My heat sensing ability is screaming outward, scouring the room, searching for a thermal signature that isn’t here.
Oliver’s missing, the Unity Flame is dead, Avery won’t come out of her room, and everything is wrong, wrong, wrong. My magic reaches and comes back with nothing, like a hand closing on air—
The chandelier above me bursts into flame.
Suddenly, Nana appears at my elbow, her weathered hand closing around my arm. The contact grounds me just enough to keep the ceiling from igniting.
“Come along, Evangeline.” She helps me to my feet, and I realize I’m shaking. “Let’s get some tea in you before you bring the ceiling down.”
The hallway’s a blur of stone and torchlight as she guides me to the door, and I’m barely aware of anything except the gaping hole in my thermal map where Oliver’s signature should be.
“He’s missing.” The words tumble out, not sounding real. “I need to check the island. There have to be places they missed…”
The Observatory?
The Worship Center?
The library?
No… those are all too obvious.
Maybe the Drowned Tower or the Obsidian Caves?
“We’ll find him,” Nana says, but there’s a tremor of uncertainty in her voice that makes the lump in my throat double in size.
Because she doesn’t know if we’ll find him.
Nobody knows.
Eventually, the cottage appears before us, and Nana guides me through the door, sitting me down on a bed with white sheets that smell like lavender and dried herbs.
The space is warm from Nana’s healing magic, which radiates a soft, constant heat that seeps into the sheets, the walls, and the floorboards.
“Drink this.” She presses a cup into my hands, and steam rises from it, carrying the scent of chamomile and an herb I can’t quite place. Valerian, maybe.
“What is it?” I ask.
“Calming draught, with valerian root and star thistle.” She sits on the edge of the bed, watching me with sharp eyes. “Your magic is tied to your emotions. When you panic—”
“The fire goes haywire.” I take a sip of the tea, barely able to taste it. “Control the emotion, control the flame. Chapter three of Basic Pyropsychology.”
As I speak, she creates a ball of fire in her hand and holds it to the bottom of my mug, heating the ceramic and making the liquid glow orange.
“That should help stabilize your magic.” She stands, and the infirmary grows quiet except for the soft clink of bottles as Nana moves around, putting supplies away.
They’re normal sounds. Safe sounds.
The kind of sounds that remind me this place has rhythms and routines that continue, even when my world is falling apart.