Volume One: Whispers Between Worlds

Ilvermorny: Whispers Between Worlds

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Volume One of the Ilvermorny Series

A Harry Potter Fanfiction
By Tomer

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Chapter 1

The Blue Seal

Daryan Marsdale stopped just inside his bedroom doorway and stared at the strange envelope resting on his bedside table. One hand remained against the doorframe while he tried to remember whether it had been there when he left the apartment earlier. He was almost certain it had not.

His father was working at the deli he owned down the street, where he spent each morning preparing food before serving fresh sandwiches through the lunch rush. The deli had a small seating area near the front windows, and Damon knew most of his regular customers by name. Daryan sometimes helped wipe down tables, refill napkin holders, or carry empty trays into the kitchen, but his father had given him the afternoon to enjoy himself. His mother would be returning from her job as the head of housekeeping at the Grand Stand Hotel at any time.

Neither of them could have placed the envelope in his room.

The open windows allowed a steady breeze to move through the two-bedroom apartment near downtown Nashville. The day had been sweltering, but an approaching storm had sent the temperature dropping. Dark clouds gathered beyond the surrounding buildings, and the distant rumble of thunder promised rain before evening.

Daryan had turned eleven only a few weeks earlier. He had spent the afternoon enjoying one of his final days of freedom before school began again, although the heat had driven him home sooner than he intended. The cool breeze brushing across his damp forehead offered welcome relief, but it did nothing to explain how a letter had appeared inside a locked apartment.

The envelope was made from thick, tan paper that looked older than anything delivered by the regular mail. A blue wax seal held it shut, with the impression of a complicated knot pressed into its center. Broad, elegant writing stretched across the front.

Daryan Marsdale
3434 West 1st Street
Apartment 3C
Second Bedroom
Nashville, Tennessee

“That’s an odd way to address a letter,” Daryan murmured.

The apartment number should have been enough. Whoever had sent it apparently knew exactly which bedroom belonged to him. That should have frightened him more than it did, but his curiosity proved stronger than his uneasiness.

He had just slipped one finger beneath the edge of the envelope when the front door opened.

“Daryan?” his mother called. “Love, are you home?”

His concern disappeared beneath an immediate smile. Carrying the unopened letter with him, Daryan hurried out of his bedroom.

His parents were the two people he loved most in the world. Their lives might have seemed ordinary to anyone looking from the outside, but there had always been something special about their family. His mother and father rarely argued, and even when they did, neither of them remained angry for long. They worked hard, teased each other constantly, and never allowed Daryan to question whether he was loved.

Aryanna Marsdale was setting her purse and car keys on the kitchen counter when Daryan wrapped both arms around her waist. The tension in her shoulders eased as she laughed and ruffled his damp, spiky brown hair.

“Hi, Mom!” Daryan greeted her. “How was work?”

“It was fine,” she answered, returning his hug. “One of the elevators stopped working again, three rooms had leaking faucets, and someone thought it would be entertaining to leave an entire chocolate cake beneath a bed. Other than that, it was a perfectly normal day.”

“Did they at least leave you a piece?”

“No, which made the entire situation considerably worse.” Aryanna stepped away from him and opened the refrigerator. “Did you enjoy your day?”

“It was hot outside.” Daryan rolled his eyes dramatically. “I think part of my face melted off.”

Aryanna glanced at him while retrieving a bottle of water. “You appear to have most of it left.”

“Most?”

“I’m not making any promises about your nose.”

Daryan touched his nose instinctively, making his mother laugh. Aryanna opened the bottle and took several long drinks before placing it on the counter. Daryan immediately picked it up and finished what remained.

“There is an entire refrigerator filled with water right there,” she pointed out. Her mouth tightened in an unsuccessful attempt to hide her amusement. “Why must you drink mine?”

“It tastes better after you open it.”

“That makes absolutely no sense.”

“It doesn’t have to.”

Aryanna shook her head and reached for the empty bottle. Only then did she notice the envelope in Daryan’s other hand.

“What’s that?”

“I don’t know. It was sitting on my nightstand when I got home.”

Her expression sharpened. “Someone left a letter in your bedroom?”

“I guess so. The front door was locked, though.”

Aryanna held out her hand. Daryan passed the envelope to her, expecting her to be as confused as he was. She studied the writing on the front before turning it over.

The moment she saw the blue wax seal, the color drained from her face.

Her fingers loosened, and the envelope slipped several inches before she caught it against the edge of the counter. She stared at the knot pressed into the wax, her lips parting without producing a sound. The hand holding the envelope began to tremble.

“Mom?”

Aryanna drew an uneven breath, but her gaze remained fixed on the seal.

“Mom, what’s wrong?” Daryan moved closer as his curiosity gave way to fear.

“Nothing, baby boy.” Aryanna pulled the envelope against her chest and forced herself to look at him. Surprise, fear, and wonder struggled across her face before she managed a fragile smile. “Nothing is wrong. I just never thought this would be possible. Not after what happened in our family.”

“What happened?”

Her thumb moved slowly over the thick edge of the envelope.

“My grandfather married someone who was not part of his world,” she said. “When their daughter never showed certain abilities, people blamed him. They believed the same thing would happen to everyone who came after her.”

Daryan searched his mother’s expression for anything that might explain what she meant. “What abilities?”

Aryanna looked down at the seal again. For a moment, she appeared tempted to break it herself. Instead, she carefully turned the envelope over and held it away from her.

“We should wait until your father gets home. This involves all three of us.”

“What’s inside it?”

“An invitation to one of the greatest schools in the world.”

“What school?”

“That is all you’re going to learn for now.” Aryanna reached into her purse and removed her phone. Her fingers fumbled against the screen before she steadied them. “I need to call your father. He is going to be just as surprised as I am.”

“Why can’t we open it?”

“Because it belongs to you, and your father should be here when you do.”

She kissed the top of his head and carried the envelope into the living room. Her attention remained on the phone as she went, but her movements were slower than usual.

Daryan stayed beside the counter, watching her disappear into the other room. Nothing about her explanation made sense. He had never heard her mention a special school, and he certainly did not know what abilities she meant. The only thing he understood was that his mother recognized the seal.

His curiosity urged him to follow her and continue asking questions, but the memory of her expression stopped him. Aryanna had not simply been surprised. For several seconds, she had looked as though a piece of her past had entered the apartment without permission.

Daryan decided to leave the matter alone until his father arrived. He was sweaty from the afternoon heat anyway, so he went to take a shower while he waited.

The cool water felt wonderful against his skin. He remained beneath it longer than necessary, letting it wash away the heat while his thoughts stayed fixed on the envelope. He considered several possibilities, but none of them seemed realistic. He had not entered any contests, and his grades were not impressive enough to earn an invitation from some exclusive private school.

Once he had finished, Daryan dressed and stood in front of the bathroom mirror. His brown hair was doing its best impression of a frightened porcupine. He tried flattening it with both hands, but several stubborn sections sprang back into place.

His eyes were even more difficult to ignore. His right eye was blue, while the left was green. His mother insisted that the difference gave him character, but other children had not always been as kind. Some stared openly. Others asked invasive questions, and a few treated his mismatched eyes as one more reason to torment him.

Geoffrey, his best friend from the neighboring apartment, was one of the only children who had never made him feel strange because of them. Their friendship had begun when Geoffrey and his mother moved into the building years earlier. Geoffrey’s father had died while serving in the Army, leaving his mother to raise him alone. Since she often worked long hours, Geoffrey had practically become part of the Marsdale household.

Daryan would normally have gone next door to tell him about something as strange as the envelope, but his mother clearly considered it a family matter. Geoffrey would have to wait.

After surrendering his fight with his hair, Daryan returned to the living room. Aryanna sat on the gray sofa with a news program playing quietly on the television. She had placed the envelope on the coffee table, but her attention kept drifting away from the screen toward the blue seal.

“Do you feel better after your shower?” she asked when he entered.

“Much better.” Daryan sat beside her and tucked one foot beneath his leg. “Is Dad coming home?”

“He should be on his way. He asked one of his employees to finish cleaning the deli.”

“Did you tell him about the letter?”

“I told him enough.”

“Did he know what it was?”

“I think he suspected.”

Daryan studied his mother’s profile. Her hands were clasped tightly in her lap, with one thumb rubbing repeatedly across the knuckles of the other.

“You both know something you’ve never told me.”

Aryanna’s hands became still. She turned toward him, and the guarded tension in her face softened beneath something closer to regret.

“There are things we never expected you would need to know. Your father and I may have been wrong about that.”

Her answer did little to satisfy him, but Daryan resisted the urge to keep asking. He pretended to watch television while the gathering storm darkened the afternoon sky. Rain began tapping lightly against the windows, and occasional flashes of lightning appeared between the surrounding buildings.

Nearly an hour passed before the front door finally opened.

Damon Marsdale entered carrying a brown paper bag from the deli. His dark hair was slightly disheveled, and the familiar scents of fresh bread, roasted meat, pickles, and spices followed him into the apartment. Daryan jumped up the moment his father placed the bag on the counter.

Damon caught him beneath the arms, lifted him from the floor, and planted a loud kiss against his cheek before pulling him into a tight hug.

“So, I hear you received a letter,” Damon said as he set his son down.

Daryan wiped his cheek with the back of one hand. “Mom won’t let me open it.”

“Your mother wanted us to be together.”

“Do you know who sent it?”

Damon looked toward Aryanna. She had risen from the sofa and now held the envelope in both hands.

“Do you remember everything I told you about my grandfather?” she asked.

“Of course.”

Aryanna turned the envelope so that he could see the wax seal.

Damon’s eyebrows rose, and the lines around his mouth went slack. He stepped closer to examine the knot before looking at Daryan with open astonishment.

“That’s really from Ilvermorny?”

“It has their seal,” Aryanna answered.

Damon released a slow breath and braced one hand against the back of the sofa. “Well, I wasn’t expecting this.”

“Neither was I.”

Daryan looked between them, increasingly frustrated by the words they seemed to understand without explanation. “Expecting what?”

Aryanna did not answer immediately. Her shoulders had drawn inward, and her grip on the envelope tightened. Damon appeared caught between amazement and delight, but his attention remained on his wife.

“I think we may need to contact my grandfather,” Aryanna said. “After all this time, I don’t know how he will react.”

“He’ll understand, love.”

“How can you know that?”

“Because Eruman knows your parents were the ones who kept you away from him. You were a child, Aryanna. None of it was your decision.”

Aryanna lowered her eyes to the envelope. “I hope he remembers that.”

“He will. Eruman understands what your parents did better than anyone.”

Daryan tried to follow the conversation without interrupting. He had never heard the name Eruman before, but his parents spoke about him as though he had once occupied an important place in their lives.

Aryanna’s fingers lingered on the seal for another moment before she approached Daryan and held out the envelope.

“Go ahead.”

The thick paper trembled slightly between his fingers as he accepted it. The blue seal seemed more mysterious now that he knew it belonged to something called Ilvermorny.

Daryan carefully slipped one finger beneath the wax and broke it loose.

The envelope burst open.

A tiny silver rocket shot into the air, making Daryan cry out and stumble backward. It circled the living room twice, trailing silver sparks behind it, before exploding beneath the ceiling in a shower of rainbow-colored light. The glittering colors drifted over Daryan and his parents before disappearing above the floor.

Damon’s surprise gave way to a delighted whistle. “They certainly improved the letters.”

Aryanna laughed, one hand pressed over her mouth as the tension finally released from her shoulders.

Daryan stood perfectly still with his mouth hanging open. To his credit, he had not dropped the envelope. He peered cautiously inside, waiting to see whether anything else intended to escape.

“I think it’s safe now, son,” Damon said as he lowered himself onto the sofa.

“What was that?”

“I’m fairly certain the answer is inside the letter,” Aryanna told him. She sat beside Damon and tapped the cushion between them. “Come here and read it.”

Daryan settled between his parents and pulled two folded sheets of yellow-hued parchment from the envelope. Elegant writing covered the first page.

ILVERMORNY SCHOOL
OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY
Mount Greylock, Massachusetts
Office of Admissions

Dear Mr. Marsdale,

It is our great pleasure to invite you to join the incoming class of Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The school has received confirmation of your magical ability, and a place has been reserved for you at the beginning of the coming academic year.

Ilvermorny has provided generations of young witches and wizards from across North America with a distinguished magical education. During your time with us, you will receive instruction in wandwork, charms, transfiguration, potions, magical history, defensive magic, and the responsible use of your abilities.

Upon your arrival, you will participate in Ilvermorny’s traditional Sorting Ceremony. Standing upon the Gordian Knot in the school’s entrance hall, you will be presented before the enchanted carvings representing our four houses: Horned Serpent, Wampus, Thunderbird, and Pukwudgie. One or more may offer you a place among their students, but should more than one house choose you, the final decision will be yours.

The academic year will begin on September 1st. Enclosed with this letter, you will find a list of required books and equipment, instructions for reaching the school, and an enrollment form that must be returned no later than August 15th.

If you or your family have not previously had contact with the magical community, an Ilvermorny representative will visit your home to answer your questions, explain the laws governing magical secrecy, and assist you in obtaining the necessary supplies.

We understand that entering the magical world may seem overwhelming. Please know that you will not make this journey alone. At Ilvermorny, you will find teachers prepared to guide you, classmates beginning journeys of their own, and a community in which your abilities can be safely understood and developed.

We look forward to welcoming you to Ilvermorny, Mr. Marsdale.

With highest regards,

Eruman Magreth
Headmaster
Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Knowledge. Courage. Healing. Strength.

Daryan read the letter twice. The words remained the same, no matter how long he stared at them.

“I don’t understand,” he finally admitted.

He turned toward Aryanna and discovered tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. She made no attempt to wipe them away.

“You’re a wizard, Daryan,” she told him gently.

His gaze dropped to the parchment again. “A real wizard?”

“Yes.”

Daryan looked at his mother first. She was the one who had recognized the seal and understood where the letter came from.

“Does that mean you’re a witch?”

Aryanna hesitated before slowly shaking her head. “As far as I have ever known, no. I have never been able to perform magic.”

“But you knew what this was.”

“Because magic is part of our family history, even if I was raised apart from most of it.” Aryanna took one of his hands and folded her fingers around it. “My grandfather, Eruman Magreth, is a wizard. He married a No-Maj, which is what the American magical community calls someone without magic. Their daughter, my mother, never demonstrated any magical abilities and was considered a Squib.”

Daryan frowned. “Is that bad?”

“It should not be. A Squib is simply someone born into a magical family who cannot perform magic.” Aryanna’s jaw tightened, and her eyes briefly shifted away from him. “My mother and father did not see it that way. They blamed Grandfather Eruman for marrying a No-Maj. They convinced themselves that his marriage had weakened the family’s magic.”

“Did it?”

“No.” Aryanna’s response came without hesitation. “Magic does not follow rules that simple, and there is nothing wrong with a witch or wizard loving someone who does not have magic. My grandfather tried to make them understand, but they refused to listen. When I grew up without showing any magic either, they decided it proved they were right.”

Daryan glanced at Damon, who had gone unusually quiet. “Is that why you never saw your grandfather?”

“It is one of the reasons.” Aryanna’s thumb moved over the back of Daryan’s hand. “He tried to remain part of my life, but my parents returned his letters and refused to let him visit. I only saw him on a few fleeting occasions. When I was old enough to understand what had happened, so much time had passed that I did not know how to reach out to him. Part of me was afraid he would believe I had chosen to stay away.”

“He knows you didn’t,” Damon said. The certainty in his voice caused Aryanna to look at him. “Eruman knew what your parents were doing. He knew you were a child and that none of those decisions belonged to you.”

Daryan turned toward his father. “Are you a wizard?”

Damon’s mouth curved into a sympathetic smile. “No. I’m a Squib.”

“You are?”

“My parents were magical, but I never developed magic of my own. My younger brother did.”

“Uncle Dalon?”

“That’s right. Dalon is a wizard, and he attended Ilvermorny when he was your age.”

Daryan shifted so that he could see both of his parents. “There are wizards on both sides of our family?”

“There are,” Damon confirmed.

“Then why are you so surprised that I’m one?”

Damon leaned forward and rested his forearms against his knees. His hands clasped loosely as he considered how to answer.

“Because neither your mother nor I can perform magic, and you never showed any obvious signs while you were growing up. We thought you would probably be like us.”

“A Squib?”

“That was what we expected,” Aryanna admitted. “We never wanted you to feel as though we were watching and waiting for you to become something you might never be. That is why we did not tell you about Ilvermorny or the magical world.”

Daryan studied their faces. Neither of them looked disappointed by the years in which they had believed he would never receive such a letter. They only looked overwhelmed by the realization that he had.

“Would you have been upset if I didn’t have magic?”

“Never,” Damon answered, his voice firm enough to leave no room for doubt.

Aryanna drew Daryan against her side. “You were already everything we wanted. Magic does not change that.”

Daryan rested against her while he examined the parchment. Knowing that his parents had expected him to be ordinary made the invitation feel even more impossible.

His attention settled on the signature near the bottom.

“Who is Eruman Magreth?”

Aryanna followed his gaze. “My grandfather.”

Daryan straightened so quickly that his shoulder bumped hers. “My great-grandfather is the headmaster of Ilvermorny?”

“Yes.”

“And I’ve never met him?”

“No,” she admitted. Her fingers tightened slightly around his hand. “You haven’t.”

Daryan looked at Damon. “Is that why you said he would understand?”

“Your mother did not choose to lose contact with him. Her parents made that choice for her, and Eruman knows it. Once he sees your name among the incoming students, he will know exactly who you are.”

Aryanna stared at the signature. Her expression shifted with every breath, carrying traces of affection, uncertainty, and the old hurt of a child who had never understood why someone she loved had disappeared.

“That’s why I said we may not have much choice about contacting him,” she said. “He is going to learn about Daryan whether I am prepared to face him or not.”

“Do you not want to see him?” Daryan asked.

“It isn’t that simple.” Aryanna’s voice softened. “I remember loving him very much when I was little. I also remember waiting for him to return without understanding why he never did. Learning the truth when I was older did not erase all those years.”

Daryan leaned against her again. “Maybe he waited for you, too.”

Aryanna closed her eyes. Her arm tightened around him before she kissed the top of his head.

“Maybe he did.”

Damon rested a comforting hand on her knee. “We can contact Dalon first if that would make this easier. He may be able to help us arrange everything.”

Aryanna nodded. “We haven’t spoken to Dalon since Christmas. I hope he isn’t busy.”

“Even if he is, he’ll want to help Daryan.”

Remembering the second sheet of parchment, Daryan lifted it from his lap. “The letter said something about books and equipment.”

He unfolded the page.

ILVERMORNY SCHOOL
OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

FIRST-YEAR REQUIREMENTS

All first-year students must arrive with the following items. Every article of clothing, book, and piece of equipment must be clearly marked with the student’s full name.

UNIFORM

First-year students will require:

• Three sets of plain school robes in Ilvermorny blue and cranberry
• One formal blue robe for ceremonies and special occasions
• One pointed hat in blue or cranberry
• One pair of protective dragon-hide gloves
• One heavy winter cloak with silver fastenings
• One pair of sturdy black shoes
• One pair of protective outdoor boots

Each student will receive an official gold Gordian Knot clasp upon arrival. Replacement clasps may be obtained through the Office of Student Affairs.

REQUIRED BOOKS

All students must have one copy of each of the following:

• Chadwick’s Charms, Volume I
• A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch
• Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger
• One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore
• Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander
• A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot
• The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble
• An Introduction to North American Magical History
• Stars and Their Influence upon Magic

OTHER EQUIPMENT

Students will also require:

• One wand
• One standard-size pewter cauldron
• One set of glass or crystal potion vials
• One set of brass scales
• One telescope
• One wooden stirring rod
• One mortar and pestle
• One set of protective laboratory goggles
• One school trunk
• A supply of parchment, ink, and quills

Students from nonmagical households should not attempt to purchase a wand or other magical equipment without assistance. An Ilvermorny representative will provide directions to an approved magical shopping district and accompany the family if necessary.

PERSONAL COMPANIONS

Students may bring one owl, cat, toad, or other small companion approved by the school. No dangerous, venomous, or unregistered magical creatures will be permitted on school grounds.

IMPORTANT NOTICE

First-year students are not permitted to bring personal broomsticks without written authorization from the Flying Instructor. All experimental magical objects must be declared upon arrival.

The completed enrollment form must be returned to the Office of Admissions no later than August 15th.

Eruman Magreth
Headmaster
Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

“How am I supposed to get any of this?” Daryan asked. His finger moved down the list, pausing at the more unusual items. “I’ve never seen a store that sells cauldrons or wands.”

“Magical shops are carefully hidden,” Damon explained. “Ordinary people can walk right past them without realizing they are there.”

“Have you been to one?”

“A few times. My parents took Dalon and me when he needed his school supplies.”

Daryan looked at the list again. The single word wand seemed to stand apart from everything surrounding it.

“I get a wand?”

“You will need to purchase one,” Damon said.

“How do I know which one to buy?”

“You do not choose a wand based on how it looks. The wand chooses the wizard.”

Daryan stared at him. “How does a stick choose somebody?”

Damon’s grin returned. “You’ll understand when it happens.”

“Could Dalon take us shopping?” Aryanna asked. “It might be easier than waiting for the school to send someone.”

“We can ask him when we call,” Damon replied. “If MACUSA hasn’t buried him in work, I’m sure he’ll want to help.”

Aryanna’s attention returned to Eruman’s signature. Although the idea clearly frightened her, she no longer looked tempted to hide the letter or pretend it had never arrived.

“We may need to speak with my grandfather as well.”

Daryan examined her expression. “Do I have to go to Ilvermorny?”

“No,” Aryanna assured him. “The choice belongs to you. If you do not want to attend, we will find another way for you to continue your education.”

Daryan looked down at the list. It contained words he had only encountered in fantasy novels and video games. Potions. Charms. Transfiguration. Magical creatures. Somewhere on a mountain in Massachusetts stood a hidden school, and a place inside it had been reserved for him.

Excitement gathered in his chest, crowding out the uncertainty that had followed him since he first saw the envelope.

“I want to go.”

Aryanna’s smile carried happiness as well as the nervousness she had not managed to shake. “Then we will return the enrollment form.”

“Do I have to choose a house now?”

“No,” Damon answered. “That happens after you arrive.”

“What if none of them wants me?”

“The letter says one or more may offer you a place,” Aryanna reminded him. “It does not say they can all refuse.”

Daryan considered this before giving a relieved nod. He continued reading until he reached the section about personal companions.

“Can I get an owl?”

“You already have a best friend living next door,” Damon said. “I don’t know whether this apartment is large enough for another creature staring at us all day.”

“Geoffrey doesn’t stare.”

“I meant the owl.”

“Oh.” Daryan traced the edge of the parchment with one finger. “Can I tell Geoffrey?”

Aryanna and Damon exchanged a glance. The earlier warmth faded slightly as they confronted another part of the magical world they had not expected to reenter.

“We need to learn what the secrecy laws allow first,” Aryanna said. “Until then, the letter and everything we have told you must remain inside this apartment.”

Daryan slumped against the sofa, disappointed but understanding. Geoffrey would notice when he left for a school in Massachusetts, so they would eventually need to offer him some explanation.

A low growl came from Daryan’s stomach. Damon turned toward him, amusement settling across his face.

“Fortunately, becoming a wizard has not changed your appetite.”

He retrieved the brown paper bag from the kitchen counter. Inside were three sandwiches he had prepared at the deli before coming home, along with containers of potato salad and several large pickles. Aryanna carried everything to the small dining table while Damon collected plates and utensils.

Daryan brought the Ilvermorny letter with him and placed it carefully beside his chair. He continued stealing glances at it throughout dinner, half expecting the writing to disappear whenever he looked away.

They discussed calling Dalon in the morning and completing the enrollment form together. Aryanna was not ready to contact Eruman that evening, and neither Damon nor Daryan pressured her. There would be time to decide what they wanted to say once the surprise had settled.

The storm covered Nashville as they ate, filling the apartment with the steady sound of rain. Lightning occasionally brightened the windows and reflected from the broken blue seal beside Daryan’s plate. He spent the rest of dinner asking Damon increasingly specific questions about wands, hidden stores, and whether first-year students ever accidentally melted their cauldrons. Damon did not know every answer, but that did not stop him from inventing several ridiculous possibilities until Aryanna threatened to ban him from explaining magic altogether.

 

 

Chapter 2

The Grandfather Who Waited

Aryanna had cleaned the same section of the kitchen counter four times.

Daryan watched from his seat at the dining table as she sprayed it again, wiped it in slow circles, and leaned closer to inspect a spot that no one else could see. When she appeared satisfied, she moved to the refrigerator and polished one of its handles. Less than a minute later, she returned to the counter.

The apartment had never been so clean. Every cushion on the gray sofa had been arranged perfectly. The magazines beneath the coffee table were stacked according to size, the windows had been washed, and even the plastic leaves of the artificial plant near the television had received individual attention.

Aryanna paused to check the clock on the wall. It was only ten forty-three.

“He isn’t supposed to be here until eleven,” Damon reminded her from the other side of the table.

“I know what time he is supposed to arrive.”

“Then staring at the clock every thirty seconds will not make him arrive any sooner.”

“I am not staring at it.”

Damon turned to Daryan. “Your mother has checked that clock seventeen times since breakfast.”

“I have not.”

“Eighteen.”

Aryanna glared at him before noticing that she was still holding the cleaning cloth. Her fingers tightened around it for a moment, and then she dropped it beside the sink with a frustrated sigh.

Daryan lowered his face to hide his amusement. His mother had been nervous from the moment she woke that morning. She had prepared far more food than anyone could possibly eat, changed her clothes twice, and asked Damon at least five times whether inviting her grandfather to the apartment had been a mistake.

Three days had passed since the Ilvermorny letter arrived.

Aryanna had contacted Dalon first. Damon’s younger brother had been surprised to learn that Daryan possessed magic, but his surprise quickly became excitement. He promised to help them with anything they needed and offered to visit as soon as his work allowed. At Aryanna’s request, he had also contacted Eruman Magreth.

The headmaster’s response arrived less than an hour later. He asked whether he could visit the family that weekend, and Aryanna agreed before she could lose her courage.

Daryan did not understand why she was so frightened. Eruman was her grandfather, and she had already explained that her parents were responsible for keeping them apart. More importantly, Eruman was a real wizard. Daryan had spent the past three days imagining what meeting one would be like.

He wondered whether Eruman would arrive in long robes and a pointed hat. Perhaps he would carry a wooden staff or appear in a cloud of smoke. Damon had warned him that most wizards did not behave like characters from fantasy movies, but that did little to control Daryan’s imagination.

“Will Uncle Dalon get here first?” he asked.

“He said he would try,” Damon answered. “He thought having another familiar face here might make things easier for your mother.”

Aryanna’s gaze drifted toward the clock again. She caught herself before turning her head completely and pretended to straighten the dishtowel hanging from the oven handle.

“What does Uncle Dalon do?” Daryan asked. “You said he works for something called MACUSA.”

“The Magical Congress of the United States of America,” Damon explained. “It is the governing body for the American magical community.”

“So it’s like the government?”

“More or less. MACUSA creates and enforces magical laws, protects the secrecy of the wizarding world, and responds to magical emergencies.”

“Is Uncle Dalon important?”

“Your uncle would certainly tell you that he is.”

Aryanna’s mouth twitched despite her nervousness. “Dalon has never suffered from a lack of confidence.”

“What does he do there?”

“He is an Auror.”

Daryan waited, but Damon apparently considered that a complete answer. He leaned across the table and lifted his eyebrows expectantly.

“What’s an Auror?”

“A highly trained magical investigator. Aurors track people who use dangerous magic, investigate serious crimes, and protect the magical community from threats.”

“So he’s a wizard police officer?”

“That is an oversimplification, but it is close enough for now.”

“Does he carry a wand?”

“Yes.”

“Has he ever fought an evil wizard?”

“Probably.”

“Has he ever caught one?”

“Almost certainly.”

“Has he ever fought a dragon?”

Damon laughed and shook his head. “Aurors do not normally hunt dragons.”

“Why not?”

“Because specialists are trained to work with magical creatures. Aurors focus on witches and wizards who break the law.”

Daryan considered that distinction before another possibility occurred to him. “What about vampires?”

Damon’s amusement faded. He looked toward Aryanna, who had stopped pretending not to listen.

Daryan straightened in his chair. “Vampires are real?”

“Yes,” Damon admitted. “They are real, but being a vampire does not automatically make someone dangerous or evil. Your uncle investigates individuals who commit crimes. He does not hunt people merely because of what they are.”

“Has he ever met one?”

Before Damon could answer, something tapped against the kitchen window.

Daryan turned toward the sound. A folded piece of paper fluttered outside the glass despite the strengthening wind. It tapped the window again, folding and unfolding two pointed wings like a small white bird.

Aryanna hurried across the kitchen and opened the window. The paper bird darted inside, circled Damon’s head, and landed in front of him on the table. Its wings folded neatly against its sides.

Daryan leaned closer, careful not to touch it. “Is that magic?”

“Yes,” Damon said. “That is definitely magic.”

The paper unfolded itself, and a message written in dark ink appeared across the page. Damon’s forehead creased as he read it before passing it to Aryanna.

“Dalon isn’t coming,” she said. The disappointment in her voice revealed how much she had been relying on his presence.

“Why not?” Daryan asked.

“MACUSA received word about a suspected vampire cult somewhere in the Southwest,” Damon answered. “Dalon’s unit has been assigned to investigate.”

Daryan’s eyes widened. “Uncle Dalon is going to fight a vampire cult?”

“He is going to investigate one,” Damon corrected. “Those are not necessarily the same thing.”

“Will he be all right?”

“Dalon has been an Auror for years. He knows how to take care of himself, and he will not be working alone.”

Aryanna folded the message along its original creases and placed it on the counter. Her fingers remained against it for several seconds.

“He was supposed to arrive before my grandfather.”

“You do not need Dalon here to protect you from Eruman,” Damon told her gently.

“I know that.”

Damon watched her return to the window and fold her arms across her chest. Rain clouds had darkened the sky, although the storm had not yet reached the city.

“Do you?” he asked.

Aryanna’s shoulders rose and fell beneath a careful breath. “I only remember meeting my grandfather a handful of times. The memories are scattered. I remember him bringing me a toy bird that sang when I held it. I remember him reading stories to me while my mother watched from the doorway. Most of all, I remember how upset my parents became whenever he visited.”

“They wanted you to believe he had done something wrong.”

“They succeeded for a long time.” Aryanna looked toward the Ilvermorny letter resting on the coffee table. “What if he resents me for staying away?”

“He knows you were a child when your parents cut off contact. He knew they returned his letters and refused to allow him near you. None of that was your decision.”

“I could have contacted him once I was older.”

“You were frightened, Aryanna. He will understand that.”

She pressed her lips together, but before she could answer, a firm knock sounded against the front door.

Aryanna froze.

Daryan shot to his feet with so much excitement that his chair scraped across the floor. He hurried toward the door, but Damon caught the back of his shirt before he could reach it.

“Give your mother a moment.”

Aryanna smoothed the front of her blouse and pushed a loose strand of brown hair behind her ear. Her hand lingered beside her face before she forced it down. After taking a slow breath, she crossed the living room. Damon released Daryan, and they followed several steps behind her.

She opened the door.

The man waiting in the hallway did not look anything like the wizard Daryan had imagined. He wore a dark charcoal suit beneath a long navy coat. Silver threaded through his neatly combed hair, and a short beard covered the lower half of his face. He appeared old enough to be Daryan’s great-grandfather, but there was nothing fragile about him. His posture was straight, and one hand rested against the polished wooden handle of a walking stick.

A gold Gordian Knot clasp was fastened near the collar of his coat.

Eruman’s eyes settled on Aryanna, and the composure in his face faltered. His fingers tightened around his walking stick while Aryanna stood with one hand still gripping the edge of the door.

“Aryanna,” he finally said.

His voice was quiet and controlled, but Daryan heard the emotion beneath it.

“Hello, Grandfather.”

Eruman swallowed, and his eyes glistened. “I cannot tell you how long I have hoped to hear you call me that again.”

Aryanna looked down, blinking rapidly before stepping aside. “Please come in.”

Eruman entered the apartment. He removed his coat and handed it to Damon, revealing a cranberry-colored vest beneath his suit jacket. A slender wand rested inside a narrow pocket near his waist.

Daryan could not stop staring at it.

Eruman followed his gaze, and a trace of amusement softened the emotion still visible in his face.

“You must be Daryan.”

“Yes, sir.”

The headmaster studied him with an expression that was both curious and affectionate. “You have grown considerably since the last photograph I saw.”

“You’ve seen pictures of me?”

“Your uncle Dalon has kept me informed about the family from time to time. I hope you do not mind.”

Daryan shook his head. “Are you really the headmaster of Ilvermorny?”

“I am.”

“Does that mean you can do every kind of magic?”

Eruman’s mouth curved into a restrained smile. “It means I have learned enough magic to recognize how much I still do not know.”

Daryan was not certain whether that counted as an answer, but the uncertainty between Eruman and Aryanna returned before he could ask for a better one.

Eruman’s hand shifted on the walking stick. The small movement made him appear nervous for the first time.

“May I hug you?” he asked.

Aryanna’s composure broke. Her chin trembled as she nodded, and Eruman pulled her carefully into his arms.

Daryan had never seen his mother cry this way. She buried her face against her grandfather’s shoulder while he held her. Eruman closed his eyes and rested one hand against the back of her head, his fingers trembling against her hair.

“I am sorry,” Aryanna whispered.

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

“I should have contacted you.”

“You were a child when they separated us. When you became an adult, I feared I had become little more than a painful memory.”

“They told me you were ashamed of us because we didn’t have magic.”

Eruman drew back enough to see her face. Grief tightened the corners of his mouth, but his voice remained steady.

“I was never ashamed of you or your mother. Your grandmother Anna had no magic, and she was one of the finest people I ever knew. I loved her completely. Magic has never determined a person’s worth, no matter how many families pretend otherwise.”

“I thought you stopped trying to see me.”

“I wrote dozens of letters. Most were returned unopened. When I attempted to visit, your parents threatened to report me for violating the laws protecting No-Maj families from magical interference.” Eruman looked down, and regret deepened the lines around his eyes. “Once you were grown, I should have tried again. I convinced myself that contacting you would reopen wounds you had managed to heal. The truth is that I was afraid you would reject me.”

“I thought the same thing.”

“Then we allowed the same fear to steal far too many years from us.”

Aryanna wiped her face with the heel of her hand. Her breathing remained uneven, but she no longer looked ready to retreat from him.

“I don’t want it to take any more.”

“Neither do I.”

Eruman embraced her again. Damon quietly rested a hand on Daryan’s shoulder and guided him toward the kitchen.

“But I want to hear,” Daryan protested under his breath.

“They need a few minutes without an audience.”

The kitchen opened directly into the living room, so they could not offer complete privacy. Damon kept Daryan occupied by retrieving glasses, filling them with ice, and pouring lemonade from the pitcher Aryanna had prepared.

Daryan continued glancing over his shoulder. Eruman and Aryanna now spoke too softly for him to hear.

“Is Mom going to be okay?”

“She will be,” Damon assured him. “She spent most of her life believing her grandfather wanted nothing to do with her. Learning otherwise is going to take time.”

“Her parents lied to her.”

“They allowed their anger to shape the story they told her.”

Daryan watched Damon arrange the glasses on a tray. “Did you feel like you disappointed your parents because you were a Squib?”

Damon’s hand became still around the final glass. He considered the question before setting it down.

“For a while,” he admitted. “My parents tried not to treat Dalon differently after his magic appeared, but some differences could not be avoided. He received a wand, went to Ilvermorny, and became part of a world I could only visit. I had to find a place that belonged to me.”

“Is that why you opened the deli?”

“In a way. I wanted to build something of my own. I may not be able to make food appear with a wand, but people still line up for my sandwiches every afternoon.”

“I like your sandwiches better than magical food.”

“You have never eaten magical food.”

“I still like yours better.”

Damon’s smile returned. He ruffled Daryan’s already uncooperative hair. “That is the correct answer.”

When they carried the lemonade into the living room, Aryanna and Eruman were seated together on the sofa. Aryanna’s eyes were red, but her posture had relaxed. She no longer held herself as though she expected her grandfather’s arrival to end in another rejection.

Eruman accepted a glass from Daryan. “Thank you.”

“Are you going to be my professor?”

“Not regularly. I occasionally teach advanced subjects, but most of my responsibilities involve overseeing the school.”

“Will everyone know you’re my great-grandfather?”

“I will not hide our relationship, but I also will not treat you differently from the other students.” Eruman took a sip of lemonade before continuing. “While we are at school, you should address me as Headmaster Magreth. Outside Ilvermorny, you may call me Great-Grandfather, if that feels comfortable to you.”

Daryan considered the title. “Can I just call you Grandfather? Great-Grandfather sounds really long.”

A genuine laugh escaped Eruman. His eyes moved briefly toward Aryanna, as though he wanted to make certain she did not object.

“Grandfather will be perfectly acceptable.”

Daryan settled into the armchair across from him. “What is Ilvermorny really like?”

“It is a large castle concealed at the summit of Mount Greylock in Massachusetts. Powerful enchantments prevent No-Majs from seeing or approaching it without permission. The school is home to students from across North America, so you will meet children from places very different from Nashville.”

“Do we live there?”

“Yes. Students sleep in dormitories belonging to their houses. You will return home during longer holidays and at the end of the academic year.”

The excitement in Daryan’s face dimmed as he looked at his parents. He had been so fascinated by the promise of magic that he had not considered how long he would be away from them.

“Can I write home?”

“As often as you wish,” Eruman assured him. “Ilvermorny maintains a large owlery, although other approved forms of magical correspondence are available.”

“Can Mom and Dad visit?”

“There are designated family events during the school year. In an emergency, the school will contact them immediately.”

Aryanna reached over and squeezed Daryan’s hand. “You will not be losing us because you go to school.”

“I know.” Daryan returned the pressure of her fingers, although he realized how much he would miss Geoffrey. His best friend had always lived only a few steps away. Massachusetts would place far more than an apartment wall between them.

Eruman appeared to notice the change in his mood. Instead of dismissing it, he gave Daryan a moment before continuing.

“Ilvermorny was founded by a witch named Isolt Sayre and her husband, James Steward. James was a No-Maj. He could not perform magic, but he helped build the school and shaped many of its traditions. Ilvermorny would not exist without him.”

Damon leaned forward with interest. “I don’t remember Dalon mentioning that.”

“It is one of the most important parts of our history,” Eruman said. “Magical ability does not make someone more intelligent, courageous, or worthy of respect. That is something I expect every Ilvermorny student to understand.”

Aryanna’s expression tightened with an old, familiar hurt. “Your daughter could have benefited from hearing that more often.”

“I tried to teach her,” Eruman said quietly. “Unfortunately, pain sometimes speaks louder than reason.”

Daryan remembered the four creatures named in his letter. He still could not picture how a statue could choose a student, but that mystery seemed safer than the sorrow passing between his mother and her grandfather.

“How do the houses choose someone?”

“You will stand on the Gordian Knot in the center of the entrance hall. The wooden carvings representing the four houses will respond if they wish to accept you. The Horned Serpent favors scholars and represents the mind. Wampus favors warriors and represents the body. Thunderbird favors adventurers and represents the soul. Pukwudgie favors healers and represents the heart.”

“What if two choose me?”

“Then you choose between them.”

“What if all four choose me?”

“It has happened before, although it is exceedingly rare.”

Daryan sat back and imagined four enormous creatures reacting to him at once. The thought was exciting until he pictured an entire room of students watching it happen.

“Which house were you in?”

“Horned Serpent.”

“Does that mean it will choose me?”

“House membership is not automatically inherited. The carvings will judge you for themselves.”

“Did Uncle Dalon go there?”

“He was a Wampus.”

Damon made a knowing sound. “That explains a great deal.”

“What does that mean?” Daryan asked.

“It means your uncle has always preferred charging into trouble before anyone finishes explaining why it is dangerous.”

“That quality has served him surprisingly well as an Auror,” Eruman acknowledged.

Daryan glanced toward the folded message from Dalon. “Will he really be safe with the vampire cult?”

“His assignment is confidential, so I cannot tell you very much. I can say that he is working with experienced Aurors, and MACUSA would not send them into the field without adequate preparation.”

“Have you met vampires?”

“I have met several.”

“Were they scary?”

“Some were. Others were perfectly pleasant. You will discover that the magical world contains very few groups that can be described as entirely good or entirely evil.”

Daryan had dozens of additional questions, but Aryanna spoke before he could decide which one to ask first.

“We still have to find everything on his supply list.”

“I came prepared to help with that,” Eruman said. “If all three of you are willing, I can take your family to the Hushnote Quarter this afternoon.”

Aryanna looked surprised. “Damon and I can come?”

“Of course. Squibs and invited No-Maj relatives are welcome when accompanied by an authorized member of the magical community. Parents should be part of their child’s first visit whenever possible.”

“We were planning to ask Dalon to take all of us in a day or two,” Damon explained. “We didn’t want Daryan entering that world for the first time without us.”

“Nor should he.” Eruman looked from Damon to Aryanna. “Choosing his wand and purchasing his first school supplies are moments his parents deserve to share. I would also welcome the opportunity to spend the afternoon with my family.”

Aryanna’s lips parted, but no immediate answer came. She looked toward Damon before returning her attention to Eruman.

“I wasn’t sure whether you wanted us there.”

Eruman’s eyebrows drew together. “I would not ask you to remain behind. Daryan may be the one attending Ilvermorny, but this change belongs to all of you.”

Some of the lingering uncertainty left Aryanna’s face. “Then we would like to come.”

“Absolutely,” Damon agreed. “I need to make a phone call first.”

He retrieved his phone and stepped into the kitchen. Daryan heard him speaking to one of his employees at the deli, asking whether they could manage the lunch rush and close without him. The conversation lasted only a few minutes before Damon returned.

“They have everything under control,” he announced. “I have officially been ordered to stop worrying and enjoy the afternoon.”

“Can we really buy everything today?” Daryan asked.

“We should be able to find most of it,” Eruman said. “Your wand may require additional time.”

“Because it has to choose me?”

“Exactly.”

“How long does that take?”

“For some students, minutes. Others may try dozens of wands before finding the proper match. Patience is important.”

Aryanna picked up the supply list from the coffee table. “We still do not know how much any of this will cost.”

“You need not worry about the expense. Daryan already has an account at Gringotts.”

Damon lowered his glass too quickly and coughed as lemonade went down the wrong way. Aryanna patted him between the shoulders while staring at her grandfather.

“He has what?” Damon managed.

“An account at Gringotts,” Eruman repeated.

Aryanna frowned. “Isn’t Gringotts in London?”

“Its oldest and most famous offices are in London, but the bank manages accounts throughout the international magical community,” Eruman explained. “North American customers can access their vaults through authorized branches and exchange offices. Daryan’s account will provide funds in Dragots, which are commonly used by American witches and wizards.”

Daryan looked between them. “I have money in a magical bank?”

“You do,” Eruman confirmed.

“When did you open an account for him?” Aryanna asked.

“When Dalon informed me that you had a son.” Eruman’s fingers settled around his glass, and some of his earlier caution returned. “I did not believe I had the right to force my way into your family. I could, however, ensure that something was waiting for Daryan if he ever entered the magical world.”

“You thought he might have magic?”

“I knew it was possible. Magic cannot be predicted through ancestry alone, and it sometimes reappears where a family no longer expects to find it.”

Aryanna looked down at her hands. Her fingertips pressed into her palms before she loosened them.

“You were providing for him when I wouldn’t even speak to you.”

“I was not trying to purchase a place in his life,” Eruman said. “The money comes from a family education fund that should always have been available to you and your mother. Daryan is entitled to it whether you choose to forgive me or not.”

“I don’t know if I’m ready to forgive everything.”

“I do not expect you to decide that today.” Eruman placed his hand on the cushion between them, close enough for Aryanna to reach without forcing the contact. “Allow me the opportunity to know you again. Anything beyond that can come in its own time.”

Aryanna studied his face before slowly placing her hand over his. Eruman’s expression loosened with relief as his fingers closed around hers.

“I would like that,” she said.

Daryan looked toward Damon, who responded with a quiet nod. Reassured that the adults were no longer in danger of becoming overwhelmed by the conversation, Daryan retrieved the supply list from Aryanna.

He pointed toward the section concerning personal companions. “What about an owl?”

“One magical purchase at a time,” Aryanna told him.

“That isn’t a no.”

“It is not a yes, either.”

Eruman rose and retrieved his coat. His eyes gleamed with an amusement he attempted to conceal as he fastened it.

“The shopping district can be overwhelming during a first visit. We will begin with Gringotts, purchase your robes and books, and then work our way through the remaining supplies. Once those are handled, you may show me which other shops interest you, and we will visit what we can if there is time.”

Daryan’s attention brightened. “Including a creature shop?”

“You may show it to me,” Eruman replied diplomatically. “Your parents will still have final authority over anything that returns to this apartment.”

Aryanna gave her grandfather an appreciative look. “I see you remember how to avoid making promises to children.”

“I have spent many years running a school.”

Damon disappeared into the bedroom to change his shirt while Aryanna checked the contents of her purse. She added the school letter, the supply list, a bottle of water, and enough snacks to survive a journey several times longer than the one Eruman had described.

Daryan followed her through the apartment while she checked the windows and made certain the stove was off.

“Do we need regular money?” Damon asked when he returned.

“It would not hurt to carry some, but most businesses in Hushnote accept Dragots,” Eruman answered. “We will visit Gringotts first.”

“Will people know we don’t have magic?” Aryanna asked.

“Some may recognize the difference, but most will have no reason to care.” Eruman’s expression became firmer. “If anyone treats either of you poorly, they will answer to me.”

“I don’t want you threatening people because of us.”

“I did not say I would threaten them.”

The look in his eyes suggested he had not ruled it out, and Damon covered a quiet laugh with a cough.

Once everyone was ready, Eruman removed a round brass token from his coat pocket.

“This is a registered Portkey,” he explained. “It will take us directly to the Hushnote Quarter, a magical shopping district concealed within Printer’s Alley.”

Daryan leaned closer to examine the engraved token. “That little thing can take all four of us there?”

“It can. This Portkey is registered for family transportation and has been authorized for everyone in this apartment.”

“Is it going to turn into a rocket?”

“No.”

“Will it explode?”

“Not unless something has gone terribly wrong.”

Aryanna’s head snapped toward her grandfather, and Eruman raised one placating hand.

“That was a joke.”

A breath of laughter escaped her before she could stop it. The sound appeared to surprise Aryanna as much as anyone else, but Eruman’s face softened at hearing it.

“I have never used a Portkey,” Aryanna admitted.

“Neither have I,” Damon added.

“The sensation may feel unpleasant during your first trip,” Eruman warned. “Keep your grip on the token until we arrive. It will only last a moment.”

He held the brass disk between his fingers. Daryan touched one side while Damon and Aryanna placed their hands around the remaining edges. The engraved surface felt cool at first, but warmth soon spread beneath their fingertips.

Daryan looked at his parents. Damon appeared fascinated by the glow forming around the token, while Aryanna watched it with a nervousness that did not quite conceal her excitement. Eruman stood across from them, no longer resembling a stranger who had appeared at their door. He looked like someone who had finally found his way back to his family.

The markings cut into the brass began to shine. Eruman counted down from three, giving them enough warning to tighten their grip.

At one, an invisible force seized Daryan behind the navel and pulled him forward. His feet left the floor as the apartment vanished, carrying him, his parents, and his grandfather toward the hidden magical world waiting beneath Nashville.

 

 

Chapter 3

Where the Music Hides

Daryan’s ears filled with music before his feet had completely found the ground. Fiddles, trumpets, ringing bells, laughter, and the calls of distant shopkeepers rushed over him at once. He stumbled across the stone platform, still gripping the round brass Portkey, until Eruman caught him by the upper arm.

Damon had landed on one knee beside them, while Aryanna clutched his shoulder to steady herself. When Daryan looked at his mother, he found no fear in her face. Her lips had parted in astonishment, and her eyes moved quickly over everything surrounding them as shock gave way to unmistakable wonder.

“Easy,” Eruman said, keeping hold of Daryan. “Take a moment and let the ground remember how to stay still.”

Daryan squeezed his eyes shut as the courtyard spun around him. “People do that all the time?”

“Some people even claim to enjoy it.”

“I don’t believe them.”

“Neither do I.”

“That was incredible,” Damon said breathlessly as he climbed back to his feet.

Aryanna remained attached to his arm. Her face had gone pale, but wonder shone through her discomfort. “It was amazing. I would also prefer never to do it without warning.”

“You were warned,” Eruman reminded her.

“Knowing it will happen is not the same as understanding what it will feel like.”

A loud crack sounded behind them.

Eruman immediately guided the family away from the circular platform. A witch and three children appeared where they had been standing only seconds earlier. One child landed on his knees, while another collided with the witch and nearly knocked all four of them to the ground.

“You must never remain inside a Portkey arrival area,” Eruman explained as he ushered everyone forward. “Travelers can arrive without warning, and two groups attempting to occupy the same space can cause serious injuries.”

Brass circles had been set into the stone courtyard, each surrounded by glowing yellow lines. Signs hovered above them with the words KEEP MOVING flashing in several languages. Witches and wizards appeared at irregular intervals, some landing gracefully while others stumbled, dropped their belongings, or clutched their stomachs.

An attendant wearing a burgundy coat hurried toward them.

“Good afternoon, Headmaster Magreth,” she greeted Eruman before motioning toward the edge of the courtyard. “Please clear the arrival ring.”

“Of course, Ms. Raines.”

The attendant glanced curiously at Daryan and his parents, but another family appeared with a sharp crack before she could speak. She rushed back toward the platform to guide them away.

Daryan released the Portkey once they were safely beyond the glowing boundaries. His discomfort faded as he lifted his head and finally saw the Hushnote Quarter.

For several seconds, he forgot how to speak.

The protected courtyard opened into a broad shopping district filled with more color, music, and movement than he had ever experienced in one place. Buildings leaned together along curving cobblestone streets, their painted fronts ranging from brilliant blues and greens to deep purples and glowing shades of orange. Shop signs swung without any wind, while others floated several feet away from the buildings they advertised. Strings of lanterns hung overhead, changing color whenever someone passed beneath them.

Music drifted from every direction. A bluegrass fiddle played somewhere ahead, accompanied by a banjo that seemed determined to outpace it. A trumpet performed lively jazz from an upstairs balcony, while an enchanted piano played a gentle classical melody outside a tearoom. Singing advertisements competed with wandering musicians, and a barbershop quartet performed near a fountain shaped like a treble clef.

The different songs should have formed an unbearable mess, but protective charms kept each performance clear within its own section of the Quarter. As shoppers moved between them, one style of music faded naturally into the next.

The people were almost as remarkable as the shops. Some wore traditional robes, while others combined ordinary clothing with pointed hats, embroidered cloaks, or boots that changed patterns with every step. One elderly wizard wore a bright yellow suit covered in tiny storm clouds. Lightning flashed across his sleeves whenever he moved. A woman passed in a flowing purple dress with silver birds flying through the fabric, and a man wearing a broad cowboy hat had a live feather that repeatedly attempted to escape from its band.

Daryan turned slowly, trying to see and hear everything at once. Damon stood beside him with his head tilted toward a quartet of singing lampposts, while Aryanna watched two children chase a floating ribbon of musical notes through the crowd. Her face carried the same astonishment Daryan felt, but something more complicated rested beneath it. This was part of a world she had been taught belonged to other people.

“This is all hidden inside Printer’s Alley?” Daryan asked.

“Beside it, beneath it, and around it,” Eruman explained. “Magical space does not always obey ordinary measurements.”

Near the far side of the courtyard, an arched passageway had been formed within a wall of weathered red brick. A brass musical note was embedded beside it. Daryan watched a wizard tap the note with his wand. Every song in the Quarter briefly faded, and the archway filled with a view of Printer’s Alley. The wizard stepped through before the opening returned to solid brick and the surrounding music resumed.

“That is the public entrance,” Eruman said. “The brass note responds to a wand and temporarily separates the visitor from the sounds of the magical world. That moment of silence is where Hushnote received its name.”

Aryanna looked at the solid wall left behind. “My parents brought me near Printer’s Alley several times when I was young. I never knew any of this was here.”

“They would not have wanted you to find it,” Eruman said. Regret moved across his face before he drew his attention back to the family. “You are here now.”

A woman with long braids threaded with silver approached them. She wore an emerald traveling cloak over blue-and-cranberry robes and carried several rolls of parchment beneath one arm.

“Headmaster Magreth,” she greeted him pleasantly. “I did not expect to see you in Hushnote today.”

“Professor Vale.” Eruman’s face brightened as he turned toward his family. “Allow me to introduce my granddaughter, Aryanna Marsdale, her husband, Damon, and their son, Daryan. Daryan will be joining our first-year class.”

Professor Vale’s eyebrows rose. “Your family?”

Several nearby shoppers glanced toward them.

Daryan’s stomach tightened. Meeting one of his future professors would have been unsettling enough. Hearing Eruman introduce him as family made him acutely aware of his grandfather’s importance. He wondered whether Professor Vale expected the Headmaster’s great-grandson to be unusually intelligent or naturally gifted at magic.

Aryanna offered the professor her hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“And you.” Professor Vale shook both parents’ hands before turning to Daryan. “Welcome to Ilvermorny.”

“Hello, Professor,” Daryan said quietly.

“There is no reason to look so frightened. I only assign three feet of homework during the first week.”

Daryan’s attention snapped toward Eruman.

“She is teasing you,” his grandfather assured him.

“Two feet at most,” Professor Vale corrected. Amusement warmed her face as Daryan tried to determine whether she was still joking. “I teach Charms. I look forward to seeing you in class.”

“Thank you.”

Professor Vale continued toward the Portkey platforms, greeting several students along the way.

“Does everyone here know you?” Daryan asked.

“Not everyone.”

A pair of witches carrying shopping bags smiled toward Eruman as they passed.

“Good afternoon, Headmaster.”

“Good afternoon,” Eruman returned.

Damon looked at Eruman. “You may need to reconsider that answer.”

Eruman lowered his voice. “More people than I realized when I chose to wear my best coat.”

Daryan laughed, and the family followed Eruman toward the main street.

A collection of miniature broomsticks flew in circles outside the nearest shop. Each broom was barely longer than Daryan’s arm, but they dipped, spun, and raced one another around a row of floating hoops. Several children tried to catch them while a shopkeeper shouted warnings about grabbing the bristles.

Across the street, three disembodied brass heads hovered in the window of an apothecary. One sang an advertisement for a potion guaranteed to cure hiccups, while the other two repeatedly interrupted to argue over whether it caused uncontrollable sneezing.

Farther down, an artist stood beneath a sign reading MAGICAL PORTRAITS WHILE YOU WAIT. A finished painting beside him complained loudly that the artist had made its nose too large. The witch whose portrait it was folded her arms and agreed.

The building beside the portrait shop was painted midnight blue, with golden musical notes moving across its front like fireflies. A silver sign above the entrance read CADENCE & KEYS: ENCHANTED INSTRUMENTS.

Every instrument displayed in its wide front window was playing without a musician. A fiddle floated above its stand while its bow swept across the strings. A banjo plucked along beside it, and the keys of an upright piano moved beneath invisible fingers. A silver trumpet hovered near the ceiling, adding bright flourishes to the song, while two drumsticks performed a complicated rhythm against a row of self-tuning drums.

The instruments finished together and bowed toward the gathering crowd. After receiving their applause, they immediately began a lively country tune.

“Can we go inside?” Daryan asked.

“After we purchase your school supplies, we can visit some of the other shops if we have enough time,” Eruman told him. “Let me know which ones interest you, and we will see what we can manage.”

Daryan nodded eagerly. “Then I want to come back here.”

“I will remember.”

Daryan spotted sweetshops filled with floating chocolates, color-changing taffy, and glass jars containing candies that sang in harmony whenever anyone removed the lids. Bookstores displayed volumes that shuffled along their shelves without assistance. Clothing stores had headless mannequins that bowed to passing customers, and a shop selling magical creatures had a bright green lizard sleeping upside down in its window.

A towering purple-and-orange storefront stood near the center of the district. A mechanical figure above the entrance repeatedly lifted its top hat. Each time, a white rabbit sprang from inside, grabbed the figure by its coat, and dragged it headfirst into the hat before the entire display reset itself.

WEASLEYS’ WIZARD WHEEZES
HUSHNOTE QUARTER

Several students emerged from the shop laughing while a flock of paper birds pursued them. Two of the older students recognized Eruman and immediately attempted to hide the bags they were carrying.

“Good afternoon, Headmaster Magreth,” one of them said.

“Mr. Owens. Miss Bell.” Eruman looked at their poorly concealed purchases. “If either of those bags contains another Portable Swamp, I would appreciate it if you kept it out of my corridors this year.”

“Yes, Headmaster,” they answered together before hurrying away.

Damon watched the paper birds chase them down the street. “I have several questions about what happened last year.”

“I suspect you would be happier without the answers,” Eruman told him.

Daryan pointed toward the purple-and-orange storefront. “This shop too, Grandfather.”

“I suspected that one would make your list.”

They followed the main street until the colorful storefronts gave way to an imposing white building with dark bronze doors. Four stone pillars supported its entrance, and the name GRINGOTTS WIZARDING BANK had been carved into the marble above them. Beneath the name, smaller letters identified the building as the Hushnote Exchange and Vault Office.

Two goblins stood on either side of the doors. Both wore burgundy uniforms with gold buttons. The first inclined his head when Eruman approached.

“Headmaster Magreth.”

“Good afternoon.”

The goblin’s gaze moved across the family before he opened the door for them.

The music disappeared once Daryan entered the bank. A long marble chamber stretched ahead beneath a vaulted ceiling. Goblins sat behind elevated counters on both sides of the room, weighing coins, examining gemstones, signing documents, and speaking with customers. The scratching of quills and clinking of metal echoed through the building.

Aryanna remained close to Damon. “I remember my mother mentioning goblins, but I thought she was trying to frighten me.”

The nearest goblin glanced sharply toward her.

“She probably was,” Damon whispered.

Eruman approached a counter near the back. The goblin seated behind it was hunched over an enormous ledger. He had a narrow face, long fingers, and pointed ears that protruded around a pair of wire spectacles. His burgundy sleeves were rolled up, revealing several ink stains around his wrists.

Eruman waited politely.

The goblin continued writing.

After nearly a minute, Eruman cleared his throat.

The goblin released an irritated sigh and looked up. “Some of us were working.”

“Good afternoon, Pottswick,” Eruman greeted him.

Pottswick peered over his spectacles. His annoyance diminished slightly when he recognized Eruman, although it did not disappear.

“Headmaster Magreth.” His dark eyes moved across Damon, Aryanna, and Daryan. “You have brought an entire family.”

“Your powers of observation remain exceptional.”

Pottswick’s expression suggested that he did not appreciate the humor. “What business do you have with Gringotts?”

“I am here to access the education vault belonging to my great-grandson, Daryan Marsdale.”

Pottswick looked at Daryan again. “Identification?”

Eruman removed a narrow silver key from an inner pocket. The letter M had been engraved into its handle. He placed it on the counter beside Daryan’s Ilvermorny acceptance letter.

Pottswick examined the key, checked the signature on the letter, and opened a second ledger.

“Place your right hand on the brass plate,” he instructed Daryan.

A circular plate was built into the counter. Daryan placed his palm against it. The metal warmed beneath his skin before glowing pale blue.

Letters appeared across its surface.

DARYAN MARSDALE
AUTHORIZED BENEFICIARY

Pottswick closed the ledger. “The identity has been verified. Follow me.”

He climbed down from his chair and led them through a narrow bronze gate behind the counters. They entered a circular chamber containing several iron platforms. Pottswick stepped onto one and inserted the silver key into a control panel.

Daryan joined him first, followed by Eruman and his parents. The platform dropped without warning.

Daryan grabbed Eruman’s sleeve as the walls rushed upward around them. Aryanna caught the railing with both hands, while Damon shifted closer behind her. The platform descended through an enormous shaft filled with intersecting bridges, suspended rails, and glowing tunnels. Other platforms traveled in every direction, carrying goblins and customers toward the thousands of vaults hidden beneath Hushnote.

The air became cooler as they descended.

Without warning, their platform turned sideways and shot into a tunnel. Daryan tightened his grip on Eruman.

“Is everything in the magical world trying to make me sick?”

“You become accustomed to it,” Eruman assured him.

“I don’t want to.”

“I’m beginning to agree with him,” Aryanna said.

Pottswick glanced back at them. “Complaints concerning transportation should be submitted in writing.”

“Would anyone read them?” Damon asked.

“No.”

Damon looked toward Daryan. “At least he is honest.”

The platform slowed beside a stone corridor lined with metal doors. Pottswick stepped off and led them to a circular vault entrance. He inserted Daryan’s key into the lock before pressing his palm against a second brass plate.

Several locks withdrew with heavy metallic clicks.

The door swung inward, spilling golden light into the corridor.

Daryan stepped closer and stared into the vault. Stacks of Dragots covered several stone shelves. Smaller silver and bronze coins were arranged in narrow trays, while sealed bags had been piled along the rear wall. A wooden chest sat in one corner with Daryan’s full name engraved across its lid.

“Is this really all mine?” he asked.

“Indeed it is,” Eruman answered.

Daryan entered cautiously, as though the coins might disappear if he moved too quickly. Damon followed him into the vault, staring at the shelves with open disbelief. Aryanna remained near the entrance beside Eruman.

“How much is here?” Daryan asked.

“Enough to cover your education and provide for other magical expenses as you grow older. I suggest you avoid attempting to count it today.”

Eruman retrieved a small brown sack from the chest. He filled it with a selection of coins from the shelves before securing its drawstring.

“This should be enough, with plenty left over for anything you might want for school this year.”

Daryan accepted the sack. It was heavier than he expected. “I’ve never had this much money.”

“That does not mean you must spend all of it,” Aryanna reminded him.

“Your mother has provided the most important financial lesson you will receive today,” Eruman said.

Pottswick made an impatient sound behind them. “Are you finished admiring the currency?”

Eruman smiled politely. “For today.”

Once Pottswick returned them to the bank’s main chamber, Daryan thanked him. The goblin appeared surprised by the gesture.

“You are welcome,” Pottswick said stiffly. “Do not lose the key. Replacement fees are excessive.”

“I won’t.”

“They are extremely excessive.”

Eruman returned the key to his inner pocket for safekeeping. The music of Hushnote washed over the family again as they stepped outside.

Three older witches greeted Eruman before they reached the next corner. A family leaving a sweetshop did the same, and a young wizard carrying a tower of books nearly dropped them while attempting to wave.

Daryan glanced at his grandfather. “Were you famous before you became Headmaster?”

“I would not describe myself as famous.”

“What would you call this?”

“I have worked at Ilvermorny for many years. A considerable portion of the American magical community either attended the school or sent children there.”

“So you taught some of these people?”

“Many of them.”

“And now you’re introducing me to everyone as your great-grandson.”

Eruman stopped and looked down at him. Aryanna and Damon slowed as well, giving Daryan their attention without interrupting.

“Does that trouble you?” Eruman asked.

Daryan hesitated. “What if they think I’m supposed to be really good at magic because I’m related to you?”

“You have never performed magic with a wand. No reasonable person expects you to have mastered it already.”

“What if I’m bad at it after I start?”

“Then you will practice.” Eruman rested a hand on his shoulder. “You are not responsible for living up to anyone’s idea of what the Headmaster’s great-grandson should be. You need only become the best version of Daryan Marsdale that you can.”

Daryan nodded, although the concern did not disappear completely.

Eruman’s expression softened. “I am introducing you because I am proud that you are my family. I am not presenting you for inspection.”

“I’m proud that you’re my grandfather too.”

The simple answer brought a brightness to Eruman’s face that Daryan had not seen before. Aryanna watched them with her lips pressed together, but the moisture in her eyes betrayed how deeply the exchange affected her. Damon slipped one arm around her shoulders as they resumed walking.

Their first shopping stop was a robe shop with blue thread unwinding itself across the sign. Inside, rolls of fabric floated near the ceiling, and enchanted measuring tapes darted between customers.

A cheerful seamstress looked up from her worktable.

“Headmaster Magreth! It has been too long.”

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Button.”

Her gaze immediately moved across the family before settling on Daryan.

Eruman gestured toward him. “This is my great-grandson, Daryan. He is entering his first year.”

Mrs. Button’s face brightened. “The Headmaster’s great-grandson! We will have to make certain you look the part.”

Warmth spread across Daryan’s face. “Regular school robes are fine.”

“I think we can manage regular robes,” Eruman assured him. “Although I reserve the right to be impressed once you are wearing them.”

Mrs. Button directed Daryan onto a small platform before one of the enchanted measuring tapes wrapped itself around his chest. He lifted his arms as it measured his shoulders, waist, legs, and head.

“It’s tickling me.”

“Hold still,” Mrs. Button instructed. “Unless you want one sleeve longer than the other.”

Daryan immediately stopped moving.

She helped him select three sets of blue-and-cranberry school robes, a formal blue robe, a pointed hat, dragon-hide gloves, a winter cloak, shoes, and outdoor boots. She assured Aryanna that growth charms would keep everything fitting comfortably through the academic year.

Daryan stepped out of the changing room wearing one set of school robes. The blue fabric fell around him cleanly, with cranberry trim running along its edges. Mrs. Button handed him the dragon-hide gloves, and he pulled them on before flexing his fingers.

“They’re stiff.”

“They will soften as you wear them,” Mrs. Button explained. “They need to be thick enough to protect your hands from heat, teeth, thorns, and careless classmates.”

Aryanna approached and smoothed the front of Daryan’s robe. Wonder spread slowly across her face as she examined him.

“You look so grown up.”

“I’m still eleven.”

“I know. That is part of the problem.”

Damon stepped around his son and examined the pointed hat from several angles. “I think we need the largest one available. His hair requires extra room.”

Daryan reached up to protect his hair. “My hair is fine.”

“It has already declared war on the hat.”

Eruman had not spoken. His expression had softened, but sadness rested behind his smile. Daryan looked down at the robes, wondering whether something was wrong with them.

“Do they look all right?”

“They look perfect.” Eruman moved closer and straightened the cranberry trim along Daryan’s shoulder. “Your grandmother never received an Ilvermorny letter, and neither did your mother. I once believed I would never stand in a robe shop and see someone from my own family preparing to attend the school.”

Daryan looked at him through the mirror. Aryanna stood behind them, one hand covering her mouth.

“This is important to you.”

“More important than I can properly explain.” Eruman met his eyes in the reflection. “If I appear overly enthusiastic today, I hope you will forgive me. This is a privilege I never expected to have.”

“I don’t mind.”

Eruman placed both hands on Daryan’s shoulders. Pride warmed his face, no longer restrained by the dignity he wore as Headmaster.

“You look ready for Ilvermorny.”

For the first time since the letter arrived, Daryan could imagine himself standing among other young witches and wizards. The thought made his nervousness return, but excitement quickly overtook it.

Mrs. Button folded everything into paper parcels that shrank until they fit inside a single shopping bag.

Their next destination was a crowded bookstore with shelves reaching four floors above the ground. Staircases rolled from one aisle to another whenever a customer requested a subject. Books whispered, muttered, and occasionally shouted from the shelves. One particularly aggressive volume on defensive magic snapped at anyone who reached toward it.

Two students wearing Ilvermorny robes stood near the first-year displays. The older was a girl with thick, dark curls and a Pukwudgie emblem attached to her Gordian Knot clasp. A younger boy stood beside her with a copy of Chadwick’s Charms pressed against his chest.

The girl noticed Eruman.

“Good afternoon, Headmaster Magreth.”

“Miss Vega,” Eruman greeted her. “Preparing for your third year?”

“Yes, sir. I’m helping my brother find his first-year books.”

Eruman turned toward Daryan. “This is my great-grandson, Daryan Marsdale. Daryan, this is Marisol Vega and her younger brother, Theo.”

Marisol smiled. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Daryan shifted the shopping bag between his hands. “You too.”

Theo appeared almost as uncomfortable as Daryan felt.

“You’re starting this year?” Theo asked.

Daryan nodded. “I only found out I was a wizard a few days ago.”

“We found out about magic when Marisol received her letter,” Theo said. His fingers tightened around the book. “I knew I might get one too, but I’m still nervous about going.”

“So am I.”

Marisol adjusted the stack of books in her arms. “Everyone is nervous during the first week. Most people just pretend they aren’t.”

“Miss Vega speaks from experience,” Eruman said.

“I was not that nervous.”

“You attempted to enter the Thunderbird dormitory instead of Pukwudgie because you were afraid to ask anyone for directions.”

Marisol’s face reddened. “I was eleven.”

Eruman inclined his head toward Daryan and Theo. “Exactly.”

Marisol led Theo toward the checkout counter, promising Daryan that they would see him again at school.

Meeting another incoming student made Ilvermorny feel less intimidating. Theo had known that he might possess magic, but he was still anxious about leaving home.

Eruman helped Daryan locate each book on his school list. They purchased Chadwick’s Charms, Volume I, A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration, Magical Drafts and Potions, and the rest of his required texts. Daryan also selected several packets of parchment, bottles of black and blue ink, and a collection of quills.

He picked up a bright red quill advertised as correcting every spelling mistake automatically.

Eruman examined it. “Those have a reputation for becoming insulting.”

The quill wrote YOUR HAIR IS UNTIDY across a nearby piece of parchment.

Daryan returned it to the display.

Damon picked it up and added it to their purchases.

Daryan stared at him. “It just insulted me.”

“I know. I like it.”

Aryanna removed the quill from their basket and returned it to the display. “You already have each other. This family does not need additional assistance.”

At the cauldron shop, rows of metal pots stirred imaginary mixtures while colored steam rose from them. A tall man in dark green robes stood near a display of brass scales. His amber spectacles magnified his eyes slightly as he looked toward Eruman.

“Headmaster Magreth.”

“Professor Mercer.”

The professor approached and inclined his head. Eruman gestured toward Daryan.

“This is my great-grandson, Daryan Marsdale. Daryan, Professor Gideon Mercer teaches Potions at Ilvermorny.”

Daryan’s grip tightened around his shopping bag. “Hello, Professor.”

Professor Mercer examined him with unsettling intensity. “Have you ever melted a cooking pot?”

“No, sir.”

“Exploded a bottle?”

“No.”

“Poisoned a family member?”

Daryan stared at him.

“Not intentionally,” Professor Mercer added.

“No.”

“Then you are already better prepared than several students I taught last year.”

Daryan was uncertain whether Professor Mercer was joking. Damon looked equally unsure, while Aryanna drew slightly closer to her son.

Daryan selected a standard-size pewter cauldron and one wooden stirring rod.

“Purchase at least two more,” Eruman advised.

“Three more,” Professor Mercer corrected.

Daryan looked between them. “Why do I need so many?”

“Stirring rods break, vanish into crowded supply cupboards, and occasionally become ingredients when a potion goes wrong,” Eruman explained.

Professor Mercer picked up a fourth rod and placed it with Daryan’s purchases. “One student managed to turn hers into a snake. The snake then consumed a second stirring rod.”

“Has anything like that happened to you?” Daryan asked Eruman.

“Not since Professor Mercer threatened to remove me from his classroom.”

Professor Mercer adjusted his spectacles. “You were fourteen and had set fire to the ceiling.”

Eruman glanced toward his family. “It was a very educational afternoon.”

Damon’s mouth opened beneath an expression of sudden delight. “I would like to hear considerably more about this.”

“I suspected you might,” Eruman said.

Daryan purchased four stirring rods.

Professor Mercer nodded approvingly. “I will see you in September, Mr. Marsdale.”

They bought brass scales, potion vials, protective goggles, and a mortar and pestle before continuing down the street.

The music shifted as they walked, changing from a quick banjo melody to the heavy rhythm of enchanted drums. A polished broomstick hovered inside the window of the next shop. Its dark handle was shaped to reduce wind resistance, and silver letters along its side read ARROWMARK NEXT-GEN. An enchanted advertisement appeared beneath it.

FASTER THAN THE FIREBOLT
SHARPER TURNS
UNMATCHED ALTITUDE CONTROL
THE FUTURE OF AMERICAN FLIGHT

Daryan stopped walking.

The broom slowly rotated in the window, giving him a view of every polished surface.

“That is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”

Eruman stepped beside him and admired the broom. “It is impressive. The handle has been carved from storm-felled ash.”

“You know about brooms?”

“I have been known to fly one occasionally.”

“Are you good?”

“I was better before my knees began objecting to sharp turns.”

A freckled boy wearing an Ilvermorny robe emerged from the broom shop with his parents. A Wampus emblem decorated his clasp.

“Headmaster Magreth!” the boy greeted him. “Have you seen the new Arrowmark?”

“I was just admiring it, Mr. Pike.”

“It really is faster than a Firebolt.”

“You have not flown either one.”

“No, sir, but the advertisement says it is.”

“Advertisements have been known to exaggerate.”

The boy noticed Daryan.

“My great-grandson,” Eruman explained. “He is joining Ilvermorny this year. Daryan, this is Jonah Pike, a second-year Wampus.”

Jonah grinned. “You should get the Arrowmark.”

Daryan immediately liked him. “That’s what I was thinking.”

“First-year students need written authorization to bring personal brooms,” Eruman reminded them. “Considering neither of you has flown an Arrowmark, I doubt the Flying Instructor would be persuaded by this conversation.”

Jonah’s shoulders dropped. “The rules really need to change, Headmaster.”

“You are welcome to submit a proposal to the Student Council. I would enjoy reading your argument.”

“Would you approve it?”

“I make no promises.”

Jonah’s parents guided him away before he could begin composing the proposal in the middle of the street.

Daryan remained in front of the window, watching the Arrowmark slowly rotate.

“Maybe this shop too, if there’s time, Grandfather. I know I can’t buy one yet, but I still want to look.”

“A visit will do no harm,” Eruman agreed. “I would like a closer look at the Arrowmark myself.”

They purchased a sturdy school trunk from a luggage shop. It contained separate compartments for clothing, books, potion equipment, and personal belongings. The shop owner greeted Eruman and refused to accept payment for an engraved brass nameplate after learning that the trunk belonged to his great-grandson.

Damon carried the trunk outside before setting it on the cobblestones. Eruman removed his wand and touched its tip to the lid.

“Levitas Sarcina.”

The trunk rose several inches from the ground.

Eruman hooked one finger through its handle and lifted it effortlessly before handing it to Daryan. The boy held the entire trunk with his smallest finger.

“How did you do that?”

“A lightening charm. It reduces the effort required to carry an object without changing its actual mass.”

Daryan swung the trunk carefully. “Can I do that to anything?”

“Once you have learned the charm.”

“Could I use it on Dad’s delivery boxes?”

“With permission.”

Damon examined the floating trunk. “I am suddenly much more supportive of magical education.”

They placed Daryan’s purchases inside and continued shopping. Only his telescope, wand, and possible personal companion remained.

The magical creature shop was louder than any store they had visited. Birds called from overhead perches, lizards scratched against glass enclosures, and small furry animals chased one another through connecting tunnels. A turtle with a jeweled shell vanished whenever someone approached its enclosure, reappearing somewhere else in the store.

Daryan wandered slowly between the cages while his parents followed. Aryanna kept a wary eye on a blue-spotted salamander that sneezed small clouds of smoke whenever someone passed. Damon became distracted by a round, furry creature attempting to steal buttons from his shirt through the bars of its enclosure.

A group of young owls occupied several perches near the rear. Some were snowy white, while others had brown, black, or speckled feathers. One large owl spread its wings and hooted so loudly that Daryan stepped backward.

A much smaller owl sat alone near the bottom of the display.

His feathers were soft gray, with darker markings around his enormous amber eyes. He was small enough to fit comfortably between Daryan’s hands. While the other owls competed for attention, the gray owl watched him silently.

Daryan crouched. “Hello.”

The owl tilted his head.

Daryan moved one finger closer to the cage. The owl hopped down from his perch and gently pressed his beak against him.

“I think he likes me.”

Eruman joined him. “It certainly appears that way.”

The shopkeeper hurried over after recognizing Eruman.

“Headmaster Magreth, welcome back.”

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Wren.”

Mrs. Wren opened the enclosure and allowed Daryan to hold out his arm. The owl stepped onto his wrist and moved carefully toward his elbow. When Daryan scratched the feathers beneath his beak, he closed his eyes and released a quiet, contented trill.

“He has mostly kept to himself,” Mrs. Wren explained. “He watches everyone who comes through, but he has never shown much interest in leaving his enclosure before.”

Daryan turned toward his parents. “Can I have him?”

Aryanna’s attention moved from her son to the owl nestled against his arm. “We have a small apartment.”

“He wouldn’t take up much room,” Daryan argued.

“The owl may be small, but his cage, food, and everything else he needs will not be.”

The owl opened his eyes and looked directly at Aryanna. He stepped along Daryan’s arm before pressing himself against the boy’s chest.

Damon’s expression softened. “I don’t think he plans to let Daryan leave without him.”

“That does not make our apartment larger,” Aryanna said, although her resistance had already begun to weaken.

“If keeping him at home becomes difficult, he may stay in the Ilvermorny owlery until term begins,” Eruman offered. “Daryan can visit him there once school begins.”

The owl stepped onto Eruman’s offered hand and bowed several times, chirping with what sounded like enthusiastic gratitude. He then returned to Daryan and climbed directly onto his shoulder.

Eruman regarded him with quiet amusement. “I believe he understood me.”

Aryanna watched the owl nuzzle Daryan’s hair. Her mouth curved despite her attempt to remain practical.

“All right,” she relented. “He can come home with us. If caring for him becomes too difficult, we accept your offer to let him stay at Ilvermorny.”

Daryan’s entire face brightened. He threw one arm around Aryanna while carefully keeping the other beneath the owl.

“Thank you, Mom.”

“You are responsible for feeding him and keeping his cage clean.”

“I will.”

“And if he destroys the furniture, the cost comes out of your magical bank account.”

The owl released an indignant hoot.

Damon looked at him. “Apparently, he objects to being accused before committing the crime.”

They purchased the owl, a small travel cage, and a bag of compressed grain-and-insect pellets. Mrs. Wren attempted to place him inside the cage, but he immediately hopped back onto Daryan’s hand. From there, he climbed the boy’s sleeve and settled comfortably on his shoulder.

“What should I name him?” Daryan asked.

“I think you should take time to learn what suits him,” Eruman suggested.

The owl nuzzled the side of Daryan’s head as though he agreed.

They purchased the remaining equipment before Eruman suggested stopping for lunch. Daryan’s feet were beginning to hurt, and even with the lightening charm, he had grown tired of guiding the floating trunk through the crowds.

Damon slowed as they approached an older section of the Quarter. He looked across the street at a narrow restaurant with a blue awning and tarnished brass instruments mounted around its entrance.

“I remember that place.”

Aryanna followed his gaze. “You’ve been there?”

“My parents brought Dalon and me when we came for his school supplies. I think it was called the Blue Note Lunch Counter.” Damon studied the front window, where enchanted pictures of sandwiches and soups danced across the glass. “I haven’t thought about it in years.”

“You should see whether it is still the way you remember,” Eruman suggested. “Daryan and I can eat at the café around the corner. We will meet you here afterward.”

Aryanna looked between her son and grandfather. “Are you sure?”

“We will be perfectly safe,” Eruman assured her. “You and Damon deserve an opportunity to explore without spending the entire afternoon following a school-supply list.”

Damon offered Aryanna his hand. “Come on. If their sandwiches are half as good as I remember, I may steal a few ideas.”

“You cannot criticize another restaurant while we’re eating there.”

“I can do it quietly.”

Aryanna accepted his hand before looking toward Daryan. “Stay close to your grandfather.”

“I will.”

Damon and Aryanna crossed the street together. Daryan watched his father hold the restaurant door open before they disappeared inside.

Eruman led Daryan to a small café near the edge of the Quarter. Several tables stood outside beneath enchanted umbrellas that changed position to keep the sun away. A guitarist and violinist performed together across the street, their music carrying gently through the outdoor seating area.

A group of older Ilvermorny students occupied two nearby tables. They all greeted Eruman when he passed.

“Good afternoon, Headmaster.”

“Enjoying the final weeks of summer?” he asked them.

“Trying to,” one student answered.

“Then I will avoid asking whether you completed your assigned reading.”

The students abruptly became interested in their food.

Eruman selected an outdoor table where Daryan could keep the floating trunk beside his chair. The little gray owl remained on his shoulder, watching passing shoppers with enormous amber eyes.

“I will be inside for only a moment,” Eruman said. “Would you prefer turkey or roast beef?”

“Turkey.”

“With fried potatoes?”

Daryan nodded.

Eruman entered the café to order, remaining visible through the front window. Daryan rested one hand against the owl’s back and watched the crowd move past.

Two men sat at the next table.

Daryan had barely noticed them until one leaned forward and spoke in a harsh whisper.

“Was the cabinet delivered?”

The second man glanced around. He wore a gray cap pulled low over his forehead. “Lower your voice.”

“I need to know if it made it to Ilvermorny.”

“It is in place.”

“You’re certain?”

“I watched them carry it inside myself.”

“And no one inspected it?”

“They saw what they expected to see. Nothing more.”

The first man’s posture relaxed slightly. “When will it be ready?”

“You have been told everything you need to know.”

The man in the gray cap rose and walked away. His companion remained seated long enough to make their departure appear unrelated before leaving in the opposite direction.

Daryan watched them disappear into the crowd. A cabinet did not sound particularly dangerous, but the secrecy surrounding its delivery made the muscles along his shoulders tighten. The owl shifted closer to his neck and released a questioning chirp.

“I don’t know,” Daryan whispered. “It sounded strange.”

Eruman returned carrying two wrapped sandwiches, fried potatoes, and bottles of pumpkin juice. He placed the food on the table before studying Daryan’s face.

“What happened?”

Daryan glanced toward the street. “Two men were talking about a cabinet being delivered to Ilvermorny. One of them said no one inspected it.”

The ease left Eruman’s expression. He sat across from Daryan without touching his food.

“Tell me exactly what you heard.”

Daryan repeated the conversation and described both men as carefully as he could, including the gray cap and the directions they had taken when they separated.

“The school receives furniture, books, and equipment throughout the summer,” Eruman said after considering the information. “A cabinet could be perfectly ordinary. Their concern about whether it was inspected is less ordinary.”

He removed a thin black booklet from an inner pocket of his coat. The Ilvermorny seal had been stamped into its cover.

“What is that?” Daryan asked.

“My administrative register. It is connected to the school’s receiving records and the Hushnote freight registry.”

Eruman opened the booklet and placed two fingers against the first page. Lines of dark ink spread across the previously blank paper, forming dates, descriptions, senders, recipients, and methods of delivery. He examined several pages, returned to the beginning, and searched a second time.

“Is it there?” Daryan asked.

“No.” Eruman’s forehead creased as he moved to another section. “There is no cabinet registered for delivery to Ilvermorny. No department authorized one, no member of staff signed for one, and there is no matching shipment listed under school furniture.”

“Could the men have been lying?”

“They could have been discussing something else, or they may have intended for someone to overhear them. If they were telling the truth, the cabinet entered under a false description or was concealed from the receiving charms.”

“Can someone do that?”

“Not easily.”

Eruman wrote a brief message beneath the final entry. The words glowed blue before sinking into the page.

“I have asked the staff to compare every recent delivery against the receiving records,” he explained. “They will also examine the entrances for signs of concealed transportation magic.”

Daryan looked down at his unopened sandwich. “Should we go to the school?”

“The professors and staff already there can conduct the search safely. If they discover anything unusual, I will be informed immediately.” Eruman closed the booklet but did not put it away yet. “You did the correct thing by telling me, Daryan. Even when something seems unimportant, secrecy can change what it means.”

The seriousness in his grandfather’s voice reassured Daryan more than being told the cabinet was harmless would have. Eruman had listened, checked the records, and acted immediately.

“Should we tell Mom and Dad?”

“There is no reason to worry them before we know whether there is a genuine threat. This may prove to be an ordinary delivery hidden beneath a misleading description.” Eruman held Daryan’s gaze. “However, this is not a secret you are required to keep. If you want to tell them, you may.”

Daryan considered the answer before shaking his head. “We can wait until you know what it is.”

“That is reasonable.”

Eruman set the register beside his chair and handed Daryan his sandwich. The owl immediately leaned toward the exposed turkey.

“You have pellets,” Daryan reminded him.

The owl continued staring at the sandwich.

Daryan tore off a tiny piece and offered it. The bird accepted the gift before settling contentedly against his neck.

“I suspect you are going to spoil that animal,” Eruman observed.

“He was hungry.”

“He ate less than twenty minutes ago.”

“Shopping makes me hungry too.”

Eruman’s concern eased beneath quiet amusement. “I cannot argue with that reasoning.”

They ate while discussing the shops Daryan still hoped to visit. Eruman promised they could return to the enchanted instrument store after the essential purchases were finished, provided the wand fitting did not take too long.

Aryanna and Damon returned as Daryan finished the last of his fried potatoes. Damon carried a paper bag from the Blue Note Lunch Counter, while Aryanna wore an expression of patient resignation.

“He bought three sandwiches to take home,” she explained.

“They use a pepper relish I have never tried,” Damon said. “This is research.”

“You asked them for the recipe.”

“They refused.”

“Then you offered the cook a job.”

“I was being friendly.”

Eruman folded his administrative register and returned it to his coat. “Did the restaurant resemble what you remembered?”

“Mostly,” Damon answered. “The tables seemed larger when I was a child.”

“You were smaller,” Aryanna pointed out.

Damon considered that explanation. “That may have contributed.”

Daryan rose from the table, and Eruman helped him guide the floating trunk back toward the main street. With Aryanna and Damon beside them again, the family resumed shopping.

Several more people greeted Eruman along the way. One elderly wizard stopped long enough to thank him for helping his granddaughter through a difficult year at Ilvermorny.

Daryan listened quietly. Each encounter helped him understand that people did not merely recognize Eruman because of his title. Former students and their families remembered him because he had affected their lives.

The music changed as they traveled along the street. A lively fiddle tune gave way to the slow notes of a saxophone, followed by a choir performing from the balcony of a sheet-music shop.

Daryan noticed the ringing as they passed an older building wedged between a stationery shop and a narrow apothecary.

At first, he mistook it for another part of Hushnote’s endless music. The clear, high note rose above the nearby instruments and followed him as he walked. Unlike the other melodies, it did not fade when he moved away.

The ringing grew louder.

Daryan stopped so abruptly that Damon nearly walked into him.

“What is it?” Aryanna asked.

The note sharpened until it felt as though it were vibrating inside Daryan’s skull. He clapped both hands over his ears, but the sound did not change.

“Make it stop.”

Eruman caught him as his knees buckled. Aryanna moved to his other side, fear draining the color from her face.

“Daryan?” she called.

The owl spread his wings and cried out, but he refused to leave Daryan’s shoulder.

The ringing became almost unbearable. Daryan squeezed his eyes shut and leaned against Eruman.

“Tell me what is happening,” his grandfather urged.

“There’s a ringing. It’s too loud.”

Damon turned in a quick circle, searching for anything that might explain his son’s distress. Eruman’s attention settled on the shop beside them.

Gold lettering covered its narrow front window.

OLLIVANDERS
MAKERS OF FINE WANDS SINCE 382 B.C.
HUSHNOTE QUARTER

A man stood inside the dim shop. He was staring through the glass at Daryan before repeatedly looking toward something high on one of the shelves.

“Look at the building,” Eruman instructed. “Open your eyes and acknowledge it.”

Daryan forced his eyes open.

The moment his gaze settled on the wand shop, the ringing stopped.

He remained against Eruman while the sudden silence settled around him. His ears ached, and his legs felt weak, but he could breathe again. Aryanna kept one hand against his cheek, searching his face for any sign that he was still in pain.

“Can you walk?” Eruman asked.

“I think so.”

“Then let us find out what was calling you.”

As they approached the entrance, Daryan noticed a quieter sound beneath the music of the street. It resembled tiny glass bells chiming somewhere above him.

Eruman opened the door, and they entered together.

The ringing disappeared completely when Daryan crossed the threshold, but the delicate tinkling continued.

The shop was narrow and dimly lit. Thousands of long boxes filled shelves that stretched from floor to ceiling. Rolling ladders rested against the walls, and several opened wand boxes covered a counter near the back.

The man from the window stepped forward. He appeared to be in his early forties, with reddish-brown hair, round spectacles, and a measuring tape draped around his neck.

“Headmaster Magreth,” he greeted Eruman. “It has been some time.”

“Andrew.”

Andrew’s attention moved immediately to Daryan and then to the worried parents standing behind him.

Eruman placed a steadying hand against the boy’s back. Pride entered his voice as naturally as it had during every introduction that afternoon.

“This is my great-grandson, Daryan Marsdale. He will be entering Ilvermorny this year and requires his first wand. These are his parents, Aryanna and Damon.”

“Your great-grandson?” Andrew’s eyebrows rose. “Then this is an important day for your entire family.”

“It is,” Eruman agreed.

Daryan became aware of someone else moving near the rear of the shop. He tried not to look. Being introduced as the Headmaster’s great-grandson was difficult enough without knowing that another customer might be listening.

Instead, he looked toward the ceiling.

The tinkling was clearer inside the shop. It drifted from somewhere above him, moving through the shelves like a distant song.

“Can you hear that?” he asked.

Andrew exchanged a glance with Eruman. “Hear what?”

“It sounds like little bells.”

“Where is it coming from?”

Daryan stepped farther into the shop. The sound grew louder when he moved toward the left wall. He followed it until he stood beneath one of the highest shelves.

“Up there.”

Andrew removed his wand and flicked it toward the ceiling. Several boxes shifted, but one near the back began trembling.

“That is unusual,” Andrew murmured.

He made another precise movement with his wand. The shaking box slid forward and floated down into his waiting hand.

The tinkling became a clear melody.

Andrew carried the box to the counter and removed its lid. Dark blue fabric covered the wand inside. Its polished wood was almost black, with fine reddish lines running through the grain.

“Black walnut,” Andrew said. “Twelve and one-quarter inches. Phoenix feather core.”

Eruman moved closer. “A powerful combination.”

“Very powerful,” Andrew agreed. “It has rejected every witch and wizard who attempted to claim it.”

Daryan stared at the wand.

The melody was no longer coming from the box. It seemed to be coming from inside the wand itself.

“Go ahead,” Andrew encouraged him.

Daryan slowly reached forward.

The moment his fingers closed around the handle, warmth traveled through his hand and up his arm. The phoenix feather core sang to him in a series of bright, chiming notes. The sensation was not painful like the ringing outside. It felt welcoming.

The tiny owl on his shoulder released an answering trill.

Andrew stared at them. “Well, there can be little doubt about that.”

Aryanna moved close enough for her shoulder to touch Damon’s. Both watched Daryan with expressions that mixed pride, uncertainty, and wonder. Eruman’s eyes glistened in the light filtering through the front window, but his smile remained steady.

“What am I supposed to do?” Daryan asked.

“Try it,” Andrew told him.

Daryan looked toward Eruman in confusion.

“Give it a gentle flick with your wrist,” his grandfather instructed. “Let the wand know you are listening.”

Daryan turned toward the clearest section of the room and flicked the wand.

A pinpoint of white light appeared at its tip.

The light expanded rapidly, glowing brighter with every passing second. It filled the shop with silver-white radiance, causing thousands of wand boxes to rattle against their shelves. Andrew raised one arm to shield his eyes, while Eruman moved closer to Daryan. Aryanna clutched Damon’s arm without looking away from their son.

Daryan tightened his grip on the wand. He did not know how to control the growing light or make it stop.

Then someone called his name.

“Daryan?”

He recognized the voice immediately.

The shock disrupted whatever connection he had formed with the wand. The brilliant light contracted into a single spark before disappearing.

Daryan turned toward the rear of the shop.

Geoffrey stood several feet away with Emily beside him, staring at Daryan with wide eyes. Geoffrey’s gaze moved from the blue-and-cranberry robe parcel to the tiny gray owl on Daryan’s shoulder before settling on the wand in his hand. Daryan stared back at his best friend, equally unable to explain what either of them was doing inside the Hushnote Quarter.

 

 

Chapter 4

Magic Next Door

For several seconds, neither boy moved.

Daryan continued holding the black walnut wand while Geoffrey stared at him from the rear of the shop. The final traces of silver-white light faded from the ceiling, leaving thousands of wand boxes trembling softly on their shelves.

“Geoffrey?” Daryan asked.

His best friend crossed the shop before Daryan could say anything else. Daryan lowered his wand and met him halfway. The boys wrapped their arms around each other so tightly that the little gray owl was forced to spread his wings to avoid being crushed between them.

“You’re a wizard!” Geoffrey exclaimed.

“You’re a wizard too?”

“Yes!”

Daryan pulled back enough to look at him. Geoffrey’s face carried the same disbelief and excitement that Daryan felt.

“How long have you known?”

“My mom told me a few days ago. I wanted to tell you, but she said I had to wait until we knew whether you were allowed to know about magic.”

“I received my letter three days ago.”

“So did I!”

The little owl climbed higher on Daryan’s shoulder and chirped at Geoffrey. He reached out cautiously and rubbed one finger across the soft feathers on the owl’s head.

“Nice owl.”

“Thanks. I got him today.”

Geoffrey looked past Daryan at the adults gathered near the counter. His gaze moved over Aryanna and Damon before settling on Eruman. Recognition caused his excitement to collapse into nervousness.

“Is that the Headmaster?”

“Yes,” Daryan answered. “He’s also my great-grandfather.”

Geoffrey’s mouth fell open. “The Headmaster of Ilvermorny is your great-grandfather?”

Daryan nodded. He was still adjusting to the idea himself, but Geoffrey’s reaction reminded him of every stranger in Hushnote who had stared after Eruman introduced them.

A woman emerged from between the shelves behind Geoffrey. Daryan recognized Emily Taylor immediately, although he had never seen her dressed in robes before. Instead of the ordinary clothes she wore around the apartment building, she had on a deep red traveling cloak fastened with a silver clasp.

Emily’s attention moved first to Daryan’s wand, then to the owl perched on his shoulder. Her surprise deepened when she noticed Aryanna and Damon standing with Eruman.

“Daryan?” she asked. “You received a letter too?”

“He did,” Aryanna answered. “Apparently, our families have been keeping the same kind of secret from each other.”

Emily released a breath of astonished laughter. “I suppose we have.”

She turned toward Eruman and greeted him with the respect of a former student encountering an important teacher after many years.

“Headmaster Magreth.”

“Mrs. Taylor,” Eruman replied warmly. “It has been a long time.”

“You remember me?”

“Of course I remember you. I hope Geoffrey proves as pleasant to have in class as you were.”

Emily laughed. “Then I hope his professors have more patience than mine needed.”

“You were spirited but never cruel. There are far worse qualities for a student to possess.”

Geoffrey leaned closer to Daryan. “He remembers my mom?”

“She went to Ilvermorny,” Daryan whispered. “I just learned that too.”

Andrew cleared his throat from behind the counter. Daryan was still holding the wand that had filled the shop with light, and the wandmaker appeared reluctant to allow the excitement of the reunion to interrupt his work entirely.

“We should complete one wand purchase before beginning another,” he suggested. “The wand has made its decision, but the paperwork remains considerably less magical.”

Daryan returned to the counter with his family. Andrew accepted the wand and examined it carefully for any sign of damage before placing it back into its dark blue lining. He copied its specifications into a narrow registration ledger and tapped the page with his own wand. The writing glowed gold before sinking into the parchment.

“Black walnut, twelve and one-quarter inches, phoenix feather core,” Andrew recited. “Registered to Daryan Marsdale.”

Eruman paid him from the small sack of Dragots, and Andrew wrapped the wand box in brown paper before handing it to Daryan.

“Wands are not ordinary tools,” Andrew told him. “The bond between a wand and its wizard strengthens through use, trust, and understanding. Treat it with care, and do not allow another person to handle it without a good reason.”

“I won’t.”

Daryan tucked the package beneath his arm. The melody he had heard from the phoenix feather had quieted, although he could still feel the wand’s warmth through the box.

Aryanna rested one hand against the package. She did not attempt to take it from him, but wonder spread across her face as she felt the warmth for herself.

“It really called to you,” she murmured.

“I could hear it from the street.”

“I thought something was hurting you.” Her fingers tightened briefly around his arm. “I was terrified.”

“So was I, until we came inside.”

Damon leaned closer to examine the wrapped box. “I suppose asking whether the wand comes with instructions would ruin the mystery.”

“It comes with safety information,” Andrew replied. “The instructions require considerably more schooling.”

Emily continued watching Daryan with disbelief. “I never suspected you had magic. I placed a basic detection ward around our apartment when Geoffrey was little. It occasionally registered a small amount of magical residue coming from next door, but I assumed Geoffrey carried it over during his visits.”

“You knew magic was happening around our apartment?” Daryan asked.

“Only faint traces. Nothing strong or consistent enough to identify. Geoffrey spent so much time at your home that the explanation seemed obvious.”

“We never suspected Daryan had magic either,” Damon said. “Neither of us can perform it, and he never did anything we recognized as accidental magic.”

Emily looked at Aryanna with a silent question in her face. Aryanna’s posture became guarded, but she did not retreat from the conversation.

“There is magic in both sides of our family,” Aryanna explained. “The rest is complicated, and we are still trying to understand it ourselves.”

Emily received the boundary without offense. “You can tell me as much or as little as you want. I am sorry I never told you about Geoffrey and me.”

“You were protecting your family,” Aryanna said. “We would have done the same if we had known there was anything to protect.”

Eruman checked his pocket watch. “Unfortunately, we still have several places to visit, and Mr. Taylor has a wand waiting to choose him.”

Daryan looked at Geoffrey. “I’ll come over as soon as we get home.”

“You will not need to,” Emily reminded him. “Geoffrey is staying with you tonight.”

Daryan had been so consumed by the arrival of his letter and their visit to Hushnote that he had forgotten about the sleepover they planned earlier in the week.

“Right!”

Geoffrey grinned. “We can tell each other everything then.”

Andrew approached Geoffrey with an enchanted measuring tape. It immediately began measuring his height and the length of his arms before he could respond. Geoffrey jerked backward when it wrapped itself around his head.

“Stand still, please,” Andrew instructed. “Wands appreciate confidence.”

“The measuring tape is trying to strangle me.”

“It has never succeeded.”

Daryan hugged his friend once more. “I’ll see you at home.”

“Wait until you see the wand I get.”

The gray owl twisted around on Daryan’s shoulder and chirped a farewell.

“Your owl really is cool,” Geoffrey called after him.

Daryan followed his parents and Eruman toward the entrance. “So is being a wizard.”

The music of Hushnote surrounded them as soon as they stepped outside. A saxophone performed from a balcony across the street, its slow melody blending with the rhythmic clapping of a group gathered around a dancing pair of boots.

Eruman glanced down at Daryan as they resumed walking. “You appear pleased.”

“My best friend is going to Ilvermorny with me.”

“That should make leaving home easier.”

“I can’t believe Emily went there too.”

“The magical community contains many people who appear perfectly ordinary until you learn where to look.”

Aryanna glanced over her shoulder toward Ollivanders. “Emily has lived beside us for years. Our sons have spent half their lives moving between our apartments, and neither of us knew what the other family was hiding.”

“Secrecy becomes a habit,” Eruman said. “It can remain in place even when the original danger is no longer present.”

The words caused Aryanna to fall quiet. Damon took her hand as they followed Daryan toward the shops he had asked to visit earlier.

Their first stop was a small astronomy store, where constellations moved across the darkened ceiling and miniature planets orbited the displays. Daryan selected a brass telescope that could identify stars after they were brought into focus. The shopkeeper demonstrated by aiming it at an enchanted night sky stretched across one wall. When Daryan found the brightest star, its name appeared in silver letters along the edge of the lens.

Once the final item on his supply list had been secured inside his trunk, Eruman honored his promise to visit some of the shops that had caught Daryan’s attention.

Inside Cadence & Keys, the music became strong enough to vibrate through the floorboards. A silver flute performed a duet with a self-strumming guitar, while a cello chased a runaway bow between the displays. Daryan tried an enchanted piano that added harmonies to every note he pressed, even when he deliberately played the wrong keys.

Aryanna sat beside him on the bench and attempted a simple melody she remembered from childhood. The piano accompanied her with soft strings and a distant choir. Her uncertainty disappeared as the music filled the store, and Daryan watched a smile spread across her face.

“I used to play when I was younger,” she said. “Not very well.”

“The piano seems to disagree,” Damon told her.

“The piano is enchanted to flatter customers.”

“It has excellent judgment.”

Across the store, Eruman tested the sound of an old violin. The instrument tuned itself when he lifted it, and the bow floated into position above the strings.

“You can play?” Daryan asked.

“Your grandmother taught me.”

Eruman drew the bow across the strings and performed part of a gentle melody. Aryanna stopped playing the piano and turned toward him. Her expression shifted as she recognized the music.

“I remember that song.”

“Anna used to play it whenever you visited,” Eruman said.

Aryanna approached slowly. Eruman restarted the melody, and she stood beside him listening until he reached the end. Neither of them spoke for a moment afterward, but the silence between them no longer carried the uncertainty it had inside the apartment.

Their visit to Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes was considerably louder.

Shelves shook with bottled explosions, mechanical creatures argued with customers, and a tower of bright green boxes laughed whenever anyone attempted to straighten it. Damon became fascinated by a container of self-refilling mustard until Aryanna reminded him that enchanted food products were unlikely to be approved for use in a No-Maj deli.

Eruman allowed Daryan to select a small box of harmless joke products after carefully reading every warning label. Daryan chose color-changing gum, self-folding paper airplanes, and a quill that rewrote ordinary sentences as dramatic poetry.

Eruman purchased a package of trick bookmarks for himself but refused to explain who would receive them.

“Are those for students?” Aryanna asked.

“Certainly not.”

“Professors?”

“I would never disrupt the concentration of my staff.”

Damon examined Eruman’s carefully innocent expression. “They’re for professors.”

Eruman placed the bookmarks inside his coat. “I can neither confirm nor deny that accusation.”

They visited the broom shop long enough to inspect the Arrowmark Next-Gen. Daryan sat on a stationary demonstration model while an enchanted display created the illusion that he was soaring through mountain passes, skimming above rivers, and diving between towering pine trees. His body remained only a few feet above the shop floor, but the rushing wind and changing scenery made him grip the handle with both hands.

When the demonstration ended, Daryan climbed down with his hair standing in every direction.

“I need one.”

“You want one,” Aryanna corrected.

“I want one more than I’ve ever wanted anything.”

“You said the owl was what you wanted most less than an hour ago.”

The gray owl, still perched on his shoulder, released a questioning chirp.

“You’re still important,” Daryan assured him.

Eruman tried the demonstration after him. His posture changed as soon as he settled onto the broom, revealing an ease that made Daryan suspect his grandfather had once been a far more enthusiastic flyer than he admitted. After the simulated course ended, Eruman climbed down and ran one hand thoughtfully along the polished handle.

“The balance is impressive.”

Daryan looked hopefully at him.

“It remains unnecessary for a first-year student.”

“You liked it.”

“I did.”

“So you understand why I need it.”

“I understand why you want it.”

Damon covered his amusement as Daryan looked between the adults and realized the decision was unanimous. No Arrowmark would be returning to the apartment.

The afternoon crowds had grown thicker by the time they left the broom shop. Daryan’s trunk was full, the lightening charm allowed it to float beside him, and the little owl still refused to enter his travel cage.

Eruman guided the family toward the Portkey courtyard at the opposite end of the Quarter. Along the way, they passed the Blue Note Lunch Counter, and Damon raised the paper bag containing the sandwiches he had purchased earlier.

“I’m going to determine what they used in that pepper relish.”

“You could enjoy food without trying to reverse-engineer it,” Aryanna said.

“That is not how owning a deli works.”

At the departure courtyard, an attendant inspected their brass token and assigned them one of the glowing circles. Eruman kept one hand around the trunk’s handle while Daryan secured the empty travel cage beneath his arm.

The owl tightened his claws against Daryan’s shoulder as soon as they stepped onto the platform.

“The journey will only take a moment,” Eruman assured him. “He should be safe where he is.”

Aryanna placed one hand on the Portkey and the other around Damon’s arm. “I know what to expect this time.”

“That does not mean you will enjoy it,” Damon said.

“I didn’t say I would.”

Daryan touched the edge of the brass token. Eruman counted down from three, and the glowing courtyard disappeared around them.

They reappeared in the Marsdales’ living room with a rush of displaced air. Daryan staggered toward the coffee table but caught himself before striking it. Damon remained upright this time, although he threw both arms out for balance. Aryanna stumbled against him, recovered, and immediately began laughing.

“That was still amazing,” Damon said.

“It was,” Aryanna agreed, breathless with exhilaration. “Slightly horrible, but amazing.”

Daryan carefully straightened. “I was better prepared this time.”

The floating charm on his trunk flickered as it landed beside him with a heavy thump. The gray owl spread his wings but remained firmly attached to Daryan’s shoulder.

Aryanna looked around their ordinary living room. After the bright streets, enchanted music, and moving shop displays of Hushnote, the apartment seemed unusually quiet.

“I feel as though we were gone for several days,” she said.

“We were certainly charged enough to have been,” Damon replied as he examined the collection of bags.

Eruman refreshed the lightening charm on Daryan’s trunk and helped him guide it toward the hallway.

“Take your supplies to your bedroom,” he said. “Once you have put everything away, we need to discuss what you may study and practice before term begins.”

Daryan pulled the trunk into his bedroom. The owl remained on his shoulder, watching as he opened the lid.

He placed his books in a neat stack beside the bed before arranging his cauldron, telescope, scales, potion vials, and stirring rods in the trunk’s separate compartments. When he reached the parcels containing his uniforms, he paused.

Although he had already tried on one set at the robe shop, the crowded fitting room had not given him much time to study his reflection. He wanted to see how he looked without a seamstress, his parents, and the Headmaster watching his every movement.

Daryan removed the dragon-hide gloves first. The dark leather felt thicker than ordinary gloves but remained surprisingly flexible. He slipped them over his hands and flexed his fingers. They were still slightly stiff around the knuckles, but Mrs. Button’s fitting charms had made them the perfect size.

The owl leaned down and pecked curiously at one finger.

“These are supposed to protect me,” Daryan told him. “You’re not going to get through them.”

The bird chirped as though accepting the challenge.

Daryan removed one set of blue-and-cranberry school robes and changed into them carefully. He smoothed the blue fabric over his chest and straightened the cranberry trim as Eruman had done inside the shop.

A narrow mirror hung above his dresser. It was not large enough to show his entire body unless he stepped several feet back, but when he did, he barely recognized the boy reflected in it.

His brown hair was still wild, and his mismatched blue and green eyes had not changed, but the robes made him look as though he belonged somewhere beyond the ordinary world he had known. The dragon-hide gloves completed the effect, even if they made his hands appear slightly larger than usual.

Daryan lifted one hand and imagined himself holding his wand inside an Ilvermorny classroom. He wondered which house would choose him and whether the other students would see him as the Headmaster’s great-grandson or simply another nervous first-year student.

The owl hopped from his shoulder to the top of the dresser and studied his own reflection beside Daryan.

“You look like you belong too,” Daryan said.

The bird chirped pleasantly.

Daryan changed back into his regular clothes before carefully folding the robes and returning them to their parcel. He removed the gloves, placed them with the rest of his uniform, and stored everything inside the trunk until it was time to pack for school.

When he returned to the living room, the owl had reclaimed his place on Daryan’s shoulder. Damon was placing the sandwiches from the Blue Note Lunch Counter inside the refrigerator, while Aryanna sat with Eruman on the sofa. The Ilvermorny books had been spread across the coffee table.

Eruman picked up Chadwick’s Charms, Volume I as Daryan approached.

“You should begin studying before term starts,” he said. “Do not attempt to memorize every page, but familiarize yourself with the opening chapters.”

“All of them?”

“Begin with Charms and Potions. Professor Vale and Professor Mercer appreciate students who arrive knowing the basic terminology, safety rules, and classroom expectations. A prepared student gives them more time to teach instead of repeating information already printed in the books.”

Daryan sat in the armchair and rested his wand box across his knees. “Can I try making a potion?”

“Absolutely not.”

The speed of Eruman’s response made Damon laugh from the kitchen.

“You may read about potions,” Eruman continued, “but you must not attempt to brew one without a qualified professor present. Even simple mixtures can become dangerous when ingredients are measured or combined incorrectly.”

“What about using my wand?”

Eruman placed the Charms book on the table. “That requires a fuller explanation. Until the repeal of Rappaport’s Law in 1965, Ilvermorny students were not permitted to own wands before arriving at school. They were also required to leave those wands behind during holidays until they reached seventeen.”

“That isn’t the rule anymore?” Daryan asked.

“No. Modern MACUSA policy allows registered underage students to purchase and possess their own wands before school begins. Students may also practice a narrow list of approved introductory charms inside registered homes under the supervision of a qualified adult.”

Daryan looked toward his parents. “Mom and Dad can supervise me?”

“They can enforce the rules and make certain you practice only where permitted, but neither of them has received magical training. For your first attempts, you will need Emily or another qualified witch or wizard present.”

Aryanna nodded. “We can ask Emily when she brings Geoffrey over.”

“You may begin with two charms,” Eruman said. “Lumos produces light from the tip of your wand. Wingardium Leviosa allows you to levitate small objects. Begin with a feather, a piece of parchment, or something equally harmless.”

“Can I levitate the owl?”

The bird moved farther around Daryan’s shoulder.

“No living creatures,” Eruman answered. “You are not to attempt any other charm, spell, jinx, curse, or transformation, even if you find the instructions in one of your books.”

“How would anyone know?”

“Underage magic is monitored through an enchantment commonly called the Trace. It records magic performed around underage witches and wizards outside school. MACUSA can identify the location and general nature of the magic used.”

Daryan lowered his gaze to the wand box. “They can tell exactly what I do?”

“They will know enough to determine whether you remained within your authorization. Your apartment and Geoffrey’s home can be registered as approved practice locations because a qualified witch lives nearby, but the permission will cover only Lumos and Wingardium Leviosa.”

“What happens if I use something else?”

“An accidental mistake generally results in a warning and a discussion with your parents. Deliberately using unauthorized or dangerous magic can lead to restrictions on your wand and disciplinary action when you arrive at school.” Eruman leaned forward and rested his forearms against his knees. “I am trusting you with something powerful, Daryan. Enjoy learning, ask questions, and experiment only within the boundaries you have been given.”

Daryan considered the warning before nodding. “Only Lumos and Wingardium Leviosa, and no potions.”

“Correct.”

“What if Geoffrey tries something else?”

“You tell him to stop.”

“What if he doesn’t listen?”

“Find his mother.”

Damon returned from the kitchen and sat on the arm of Aryanna’s chair. “I like rules that involve informing the nearest parent.”

“You would have made a dedicated prefect,” Eruman told him.

“I don’t know what that is, but I assume they receive sandwiches.”

“They would have if you were in charge.”

Eruman looked at the owl on Daryan’s shoulder. “The same responsibility applies to caring for your new companion. Owls may use the school owlery, but personal companions are also permitted inside dormitories and most common areas. He will not be allowed in every classroom, particularly Potions, but you will not be separated from him at school.”

The owl rubbed his face against Daryan’s cheek.

“I think he understands you.”

“Most owls understand considerably more than people assume.”

Aryanna studied the bird. “I still expect Daryan to clean the cage, whether the owl understands me or not.”

The owl looked away from her.

“That was suspiciously human,” Damon observed.

A soft chiming sound emerged from Eruman’s coat. He removed the thin administrative register he had consulted in Hushnote and opened it. A new message formed across one of the pages.

Daryan sat forward. “Did they find the cabinet?”

Eruman read the report before slowly shaking his head. “The staff compared the recent deliveries against the receiving records. Everything listed has been located and inspected. They found no cabinet and no sign that an unauthorized object passed through the registered entrances.”

“What cabinet?” Aryanna asked.

Daryan looked at Eruman. His grandfather had told him at the café that he did not have to keep the conversation secret.

“I overheard two men talking while Grandfather was ordering our lunch,” he explained. “They said a cabinet had been delivered to Ilvermorny and that no one inspected it.”

Concern gathered across Aryanna’s face. “Why didn’t you tell us when we returned?”

“We did not know whether there was anything to tell,” Eruman answered. “I checked the Hushnote freight registry and Ilvermorny’s receiving records as soon as Daryan informed me. No cabinet appeared in either one. I then instructed the school staff to inspect every recent delivery.”

“And they found nothing?” Damon asked.

“Nothing unusual. If the men were telling the truth, the cabinet may have been falsely described, concealed beneath powerful magic, or brought through an entrance that is not part of the normal delivery system.”

“Is Daryan in danger?” Aryanna asked.

“There is currently no reason to believe the conversation concerned him. I will continue investigating, and the school will strengthen its inspection procedures before the students arrive.”

Daryan watched the worry move across his mother’s face. He was glad Eruman had not dismissed what he overheard, but the failure to find the cabinet made the conversation seem more disturbing than it had at the café.

“Should I do anything?” he asked.

“You have already done what you should,” Eruman said. “You heard something concerning and told an adult who could act on it. If you remember another detail about either man or hear anything else, tell me. The search itself belongs to the school staff now.”

Daryan accepted the distinction. Eruman wrote a response inside the register, requesting continued monitoring of the receiving areas, before closing it and returning it to his coat.

“I should leave soon,” he said. “There are several matters at Ilvermorny requiring my attention.”

“You just got here,” Daryan said, although they had spent most of the day together.

“And I will see you again before term begins. I will send a registered Portkey with your travel instructions several days before departure. It will take you and your parents to the terminal where the Ilvermorny zeppelin will be waiting.”

“We’re taking a zeppelin to school?”

“For part of the journey. Your parents will be able to accompany you to the terminal and see you safely aboard.”

Daryan looked toward Aryanna and Damon. The idea of leaving them still caused a knot to form inside his stomach, but knowing that Geoffrey would be traveling with him made it less frightening.

Eruman stood and embraced Daryan. The hug felt easier than it had that morning, when they were still attempting to understand what they were supposed to mean to each other.

“I enjoyed today more than you know,” Eruman said.

“So did I.”

“Take good care of your wand, your owl, and yourself.”

“I will, Grandfather.”

Eruman turned toward Aryanna. A small trace of uncertainty returned to her face, but it disappeared when he opened his arms. She crossed the space between them and embraced him.

“I am going to send you a speaking glass,” he told her. “It is a small enchanted device that will allow us to see and speak with one another whenever we wish.”

“Whenever we wish?”

“Within reasonable hours. I am still an old man who values sleep.”

Aryanna laughed against his shoulder. “I would like that.”

“So would I.” Eruman drew back enough to look at her. “We have a great deal of lost time to address, but we do not have to fit it all into one day.”

“No,” Aryanna agreed. “We don’t.”

“Perhaps we can return to Hushnote together another time. There are parts of the Quarter I think you would enjoy seeing without a school-supply list controlling our afternoon.”

“I’d like that too.”

Eruman kissed her forehead and offered Damon his hand. Damon ignored it and pulled him into a brief embrace instead.

“You’re family,” Damon said when Eruman looked surprised. “You’ll have to get used to it.”

A quiet laugh escaped Eruman. “I will do my best.”

He stepped into an open area of the living room and turned in place. A sharp crack filled the apartment, and he disappeared.

Daryan stared at the empty space. “He can do that, but we had to use a Portkey?”

“Taking other people through Apparition is more difficult,” Aryanna explained. “Especially an entire family carrying a trunk, an owl, and half of Hushnote Quarter.”

The owl chirped.

Aryanna looked at him. “You contributed to the problem.”

He moved closer to Daryan’s neck.

“You’re frightening him,” Daryan said.

“I am establishing authority.”

There was no anger in her voice. Daryan smiled and followed his parents into the kitchen, where Aryanna retrieved the pan of lasagna she had assembled during her nervous preparations that morning. Damon began unpacking the sandwiches and condiments he had purchased at the Blue Note Lunch Counter, examining the pepper relish beneath the kitchen light as though it contained the answer to an important mystery.

The doorbell rang before Aryanna placed the lasagna in the oven.

Daryan hurried across the living room and opened the door.

Geoffrey stood in the hallway with an exuberant smile. He held a wand box in one hand, while a snowy white owl sat silently on his shoulder. The owl stared into the Marsdale apartment with the solemn expression of a creature inspecting accommodations that were unlikely to meet his standards.

Emily stood behind him carrying an overnight bag and a small travel cage.

“I got my wand!” Geoffrey announced.

Daryan pulled his own box from the table. “So did I!”

The tiny gray owl on Daryan’s shoulder immediately noticed Geoffrey’s much larger companion. He chirped excitedly and launched himself toward the white owl.

Snowbird leaned away.

The gray owl landed beside him on Geoffrey’s shoulder and began chattering as though they had been lifelong friends separated by unfortunate circumstances.

Snowbird looked toward Geoffrey for assistance.

“This is Snowbird,” Geoffrey explained. “He doesn’t like everyone.”

Snowbird gave the smaller owl a cool, dismissive stare.

Daryan’s owl remained undeterred. He hopped closer and gently tapped his beak against Snowbird’s wing. The white owl shifted away again, but he did not fly from Geoffrey’s shoulder.

“I think mine likes him,” Daryan said.

“Yours seems to like everything.”

The gray owl chirped happily.

Daryan considered him for a moment. “Maybe I should call him Chip.”

“Why Chip?”

“Because he’s always so chipper.”

The owl bounced once on Geoffrey’s shoulder, apparently approving the decision.

“Chip it is,” Daryan decided.

Emily entered the apartment and exchanged a long look with Aryanna.

“We apparently have quite a lot to discuss,” Aryanna said.

“I should have told you about my family sooner,” Emily admitted. “I never imagined Daryan might be magical.”

“Neither did we.”

Emily glanced toward the books spread across the coffee table. “Has Headmaster Magreth explained the practice restrictions?”

“He has,” Damon answered. “Two approved charms, registered homes, and qualified supervision.”

“Then I can help both boys,” Emily offered. “We will begin tomorrow, once they have read the instructions. They will not touch their wands tonight.”

Geoffrey’s shoulders dropped. “Not even Lumos?”

“Not even a spark. You have been awake since sunrise, and excitement is not a substitute for concentration.”

Daryan returned his wand box to the table before his mother could repeat the instruction. “Tomorrow is fine.”

Emily gave him an appreciative look. “Thank you for making that easier.”

The boys carried Geoffrey’s overnight bag into Daryan’s bedroom while the owls followed overhead. Snowbird claimed the top of the dresser. Chip repeatedly attempted to join him until the larger owl finally allowed the gray bird to sit nearby, although Snowbird continued behaving as though friendship were a privilege requiring careful consideration.

Geoffrey opened his wand box and showed Daryan the polished wand inside. They compared its length, wood, and core before discussing everything they had seen in Hushnote.

“I’ve been there before,” Geoffrey revealed. “Mom used to take me when she needed magical supplies.”

“You knew about Hushnote?”

“I didn’t know for certain that I would attend Ilvermorny, but strange things have happened around me for as long as I can remember. Mom said it was accidental magic.”

“What kind of things?”

“One time, all the spoons in our kitchen started floating because I didn’t want to eat oatmeal. My toy soldiers used to march around my bedroom whenever I was angry. I thought you saw them once.”

“I thought your mom bought you windup toys.”

“They were plastic. They didn’t have anything to wind.”

Daryan tried to remember other unusual moments from their childhood. “Did you make the hallway lights turn purple?”

Geoffrey grinned. “That happened after you said purple light would look better.”

“I thought the bulbs were going bad.”

“You never noticed anything.”

“I didn’t know magic was real.”

The boys returned to the living room when Damon announced that dinner was ready. Emily remained for the meal, allowing the adults to compare what they knew about the magical world while Daryan and Geoffrey discussed Ilvermorny.

Emily told them about her years at the school, although she avoided revealing too much about the Sorting Ceremony. She wanted the boys to experience it without arriving with every moment rehearsed in their minds. Damon asked questions about the zeppelin, the dormitories, and how often students were allowed to return home. Aryanna listened closely, occasionally glancing toward Daryan when the conversation reminded her how far away he would soon be.

After dinner, Emily hugged Geoffrey, reminded him to follow the Marsdales’ rules, and returned to her apartment.

The boys eventually settled in Daryan’s bedroom. Geoffrey unrolled his sleeping bag beside the bed, while Snowbird remained on the dresser. Chip continued closing the distance between them until their feathers touched. Snowbird gave him one final disapproving look before apparently deciding that moving required more effort than tolerating his new companion.

“It’s awesome that the Headmaster is your great-grandfather,” Geoffrey said.

Daryan sat on his bed with the wrapped wand box across his lap. “I’m not sure.”

“How can you not be sure?”

“Everyone in Hushnote knew him. Every time he introduced me as his great-grandson, they looked at me differently. I think they’re going to expect something amazing from me.”

“You made your wand light up the entire store.”

“I didn’t know what I was doing. I only found out I was a wizard three days ago.”

“I received my letter at the same time.”

“Your mom is a witch. You already knew about Hushnote and Ilvermorny.”

“That doesn’t mean I know how to perform magic.” Geoffrey settled against his pillow and folded his hands behind his head. “If anyone expects you to know everything because of your grandfather, I’ll remind them that you didn’t even notice your best friend making spoons fly.”

Daryan laughed softly. “That probably won’t help.”

“It will help me.”

Daryan placed the wand box on his bedside table. “Grandfather said we have to start reading our Charms and Potions books. We can practice Lumos and Wingardium Leviosa tomorrow, but nothing else.”

“Mom gave me the same rules.”

“We should start with the light charm.”

“And a feather for the other one,” Geoffrey added. “I don’t want to explain to your mom why her furniture is floating.”

“Or why we dissolved the kitchen.”

“That sounds more like Potions.”

“We aren’t allowed to make those.”

“Probably for the best.”

Geoffrey glanced toward the Ilvermorny letter resting on Daryan’s desk. “Did a rocket shoot out of yours?”

“Yes.”

“Mine nearly hit me in the face. Mom knew the letter was enchanted, but she wasn’t expecting it to explode.”

“I thought it was really neat.”

“You weren’t the one it tried to attack.”

Daryan settled against his pillows while Geoffrey continued describing the path the rocket had taken through their apartment. Across the room, Chip tucked himself against Snowbird’s side. The larger owl remained stiff for several moments before gradually relaxing, and the boys lowered their voices as both birds began drifting to sleep.

 

 

Chapter 5

The Light Before Leaving

A white feather lay in the center of the Marsdales’ dining table while Daryan and Geoffrey stood on opposite sides of it with their new wands.

Morning sunlight streamed through the kitchen window, glinting along the black walnut grain of Daryan’s wand. Emily occupied the chair between the boys. She had placed both wand boxes safely out of reach and opened Chadwick’s Charms, Volume I to the chapter describing introductory wand movements. Aryanna watched from the kitchen counter, where she had positioned herself far enough away to appear relaxed but close enough to intervene if something caught fire.

Neither boy had been permitted to open his wand box the previous evening. Emily had insisted they read the instructions first and begin only after a full night of sleep. Daryan had complied, although he had awakened twice and checked the bedside table to make certain his wand was still there.

“Before either of you begins,” Emily said, “I want you to remember that your wand is responding to more than the words. Pronunciation, movement, intention, and concentration all matter. You do not need to force the magic. Give it a clear direction and allow the wand to answer.”

Daryan looked at the feather. “Which charm are we trying first?”

“Wingardium Leviosa.”

Geoffrey lifted his wand. “I thought Lumos would be easier.”

“It probably will be. That is why we are saving it until after you have practiced controlling your wrist instead of waving your wand at everything in the room.”

Aryanna folded her arms. “I approve of this approach.”

Emily demonstrated the movement slowly, keeping her wand pointed away from the table. “A controlled upward swish followed by a light flick. You are guiding the object upward, not striking it.”

Daryan copied the motion without speaking the incantation.

“Smaller,” Emily corrected. “Your wand does not need to travel across half the room.”

Geoffrey tried the motion next. His flick was so sharp that the tip of his wand nearly struck his own shoulder.

Emily gently lowered his hand. “You are levitating a feather, Geoffrey. You are not challenging it to a duel.”

Daryan covered his mouth, but Geoffrey caught him laughing.

“You almost knocked over the lamp when you tested your wand yesterday.”

“That was different. My wand did that by itself.”

“Wands do very little entirely by themselves,” Emily said. “Daryan’s first reaction was unusually strong, but he was still part of it. Now, both of you try the charm.”

Daryan pointed his black walnut wand toward the feather and concentrated on lifting it from the table.

“Wingardium Leviosa.”

Nothing happened.

“You rushed the flick,” Geoffrey told him.

“You haven’t tried yet.”

“I still saw you do it wrong.”

Daryan tried again. The feather trembled, rolled onto its side, and remained there.

Aryanna brought her hands together in a quiet clap. “That was something.”

“It fell over.”

“It fell over magically.”

Geoffrey took his turn. He pronounced the incantation too quickly, and a faint puff of air escaped his wand. The feather slid across the table and came to rest against Emily’s book.

“At least mine moved farther,” he said.

“You blew it across the table.”

“With magic.”

Aryanna looked toward Emily. “I see we have established a generous definition of success.”

Emily retrieved the feather and returned it to the center. “Neither attempt was a failure. You produced a response, which means your wands understood part of your intention. Now you need to improve the rest.”

They practiced for nearly half an hour. Daryan eventually caused one end of the feather to rise before his concentration broke. Geoffrey lifted the entire feather for less than a second, only to send it tumbling into his lap when he celebrated too soon.

Emily closed the book before either boy became frustrated.

“That is enough levitation for your first morning. Let us try Lumos.”

Both boys immediately straightened.

“The movement is smaller,” Emily explained. “Keep your attention on the wand tip and picture the amount of light you need. You are creating illumination, not attempting to blind the entire apartment.”

Daryan remembered the silver-white brilliance that had filled Ollivanders. He loosened his grip and tried to imagine something gentler, like the glow from the lamp beside his bed.

“Lumos.”

A weak white spark appeared at the tip of his wand. It remained for no more than a second before disappearing, but a delighted laugh escaped him.

“I did it!”

“You did,” Emily confirmed. “You allowed your excitement to break your concentration, but the charm responded.”

Geoffrey immediately attempted the same spell. His wand produced several pale sparks that jumped from its tip and vanished above the table.

“That counts,” Daryan said.

“It counts as progress,” Emily clarified. “Neither of you has mastered anything yet.”

Aryanna approached and examined both wands from a careful distance. “No fires, no broken furniture, and the feather is still a feather. I consider this an excellent first lesson.”

The boys were less satisfied. They wanted to continue until their wand tips shone steadily and the feather circled the ceiling, but Emily collected their wands and returned them to their boxes.

“Magic becomes less reliable when you are tired or impatient. Read the next section, think about what went wrong, and try again tomorrow.”

Daryan accepted his wand box without arguing. Eruman had trusted him to remain within the approved spellwork, and he did not intend to lose that trust on his first morning.

Over the days that followed, Daryan carried his Ilvermorny books throughout the apartment. He read at the dining table during breakfast, on the gray sofa during the afternoon, and beneath his blankets long after he was supposed to be asleep. Aryanna caught him awake past midnight twice before threatening to collect every book from his bedroom until morning.

His school supplies had taken over one corner of the room. The new trunk remained open beneath the window, his folded robes occupied one side of the closet, and the dragon-hide gloves rested on top of the other uniform pieces. Daryan kept his wand nearby whenever he studied, but he removed it only during the supervised practice sessions with Emily.

Every new chapter seemed to contain something he needed to share.

“Mom, did you know that Transfiguration can change an object’s physical structure without changing what the object remembers it used to be?”

Aryanna looked up from the laundry she was folding. “I didn’t know objects remembered being anything.”

“This book says a transformation leaves a magical impression. That’s why some things eventually change back if the spell isn’t strong enough.”

“That sounds useful.”

“It also says a badly performed spell can leave something stuck between two forms.”

“That sounds less useful.”

Daryan turned the book around to show her an illustration of a teacup with mouse ears.

Aryanna stared at it before slowly looking back at him. “I am suddenly grateful that Transfiguration is not on your approved practice list.”

“I wasn’t going to try it.”

“I believe you. I would still prefer that you keep that particular page away from Geoffrey.”

A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration quickly became one of Daryan’s favorite books. He was fascinated by the idea that magic could change the nature of something instead of merely moving it or making it shine. He also enjoyed A History of Magic, particularly the sections describing how magical communities developed across different parts of the world.

The history book made the magical world feel less like a collection of hidden shops and strange customs and more like an enormous civilization that had existed alongside the No-Maj world for centuries. Daryan read about the founding of Ilvermorny, the creation of MACUSA, and the laws intended to protect both communities from exposure and interference.

Geoffrey preferred Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. He carried it next door almost every afternoon, usually with several pieces of parchment marking creatures he wanted to discuss.

“Would you rather meet a Thunderbird or a Wampus?” Geoffrey asked one afternoon.

“A Thunderbird,” Daryan decided. “Wampus cats sound dangerous.”

“Thunderbirds create storms.”

“That doesn’t mean they would attack me.”

“It doesn’t mean they wouldn’t.”

Daryan closed his history book. “Would you rather meet a dragon or an Acromantula?”

“A dragon.”

“You didn’t even think about it.”

“Giant spiders should not exist.”

The boys quizzed each other on everything they studied. Daryan asked Geoffrey questions about magical history and the basic principles of Transfiguration, while Geoffrey expected him to remember the habitats, diets, and classifications of dozens of creatures.

Their daily practice improved more slowly than their knowledge. Under Emily’s supervision, they alternated between the Marsdale and Taylor apartments. Daryan’s Lumos developed from a brief spark into a pale glow that lasted several seconds. Geoffrey remained slightly better at levitation, but neither boy could keep the feather in the air once something distracted him.

The unexplained cabinet occasionally returned to Daryan’s thoughts. Eruman’s search had found no trace of it, but the school staff was watching for anything that did not belong. With no further news and nothing else Daryan could do, the suspicious conversation gradually disappeared beneath his lessons and preparations.

A week before their scheduled departure for Ilvermorny, someone knocked loudly on the apartment door.

Daryan left his books spread across the dining table and ran to answer it.

The man waiting in the hallway strongly resembled Damon, although he was slightly taller and leaner. His dark hair was shorter, his face was tanned from weeks beneath the Southwestern sun, and a dark blue traveling coat hung open over a gray shirt. A silver MACUSA emblem was fastened near his collar, and several paper bags filled his arms.

“Uncle Dalon!”

Dalon barely managed to shift the bags aside before Daryan threw his arms around him.

“There he is!” Dalon laughed. “America’s newest wizard.”

Daryan pulled him into the apartment. “Did you catch the vampire cult? Did you fight anyone? Did you use your wand? Did you arrest them? What kind of magic did they use?”

Dalon looked toward Damon, who had followed Daryan into the living room.

“Does he breathe between questions?”

“Not since he received the letter.”

Dalon set the bags on the coffee table and removed his traveling coat. A wand was secured inside a narrow holster beneath his arm.

Daryan noticed it immediately. “Is that your Auror wand?”

“It is my ordinary wand. Aurors don’t receive special ones.”

“Did you use it during the mission?”

“I used it several times.”

“What spells did you cast?”

“The classified kind.”

Daryan frowned. “That isn’t an answer.”

“It is the only answer MACUSA allows me to give.” Dalon sat on the sofa and motioned for his nephew to join him. “The investigation ended safely, and several dangerous individuals were taken into custody. That is as specific as I can be.”

“Were they really vampires?”

“Some of the people involved were vampires. Others were witches and wizards who believed associating with them would make their magic more powerful.”

“Did it?”

“No. It made them criminals with very poor judgment.”

Daryan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “What does an Auror actually do during an investigation?”

Dalon explained what he could about magical barriers, tracking charms, enchanted evidence, witness interviews, and the responsibility Aurors had to protect both magical communities and No-Majs. He avoided discussing specific suspects, locations, and spells from the Southwestern operation, but Daryan listened with complete fascination.

Damon lowered himself into the armchair across from them. “You’re creating a monster.”

“Not yet,” Dalon answered. “Give me another hour.”

Geoffrey arrived from next door while Dalon was explaining how Aurors protected magical crime scenes from contamination. Emily followed a few minutes later and stopped when she saw him.

“Dalon Marsdale.”

“Emily Taylor.” Dalon rose and embraced her. “I heard Geoffrey received his letter.”

“He did.”

Daryan looked between them. “You two knew each other?”

“We attended Ilvermorny around the same time,” Emily explained. “Dalon was difficult to overlook.”

“That is a very diplomatic description,” Damon said.

Dalon pressed one hand against his chest. “I prefer memorable.”

“You set off fireworks in the Wampus common room,” Emily reminded him.

“They were supposed to remain above the tables.”

“One became trapped inside a lampshade.”

“I said they were supposed to remain above the tables.”

Dalon retrieved several packages from the bags he had brought. He gave Daryan and Geoffrey a collection of treats purchased during his assignment, including cinnamon candies that released harmless sparks, cactus-shaped chocolates filled with fruit cream, and pieces of desert taffy that changed flavor depending on the temperature.

“These are not to be eaten all at once,” Aryanna warned.

Dalon handed the largest bag directly to her. “This one isn’t candy.”

Aryanna opened it and removed a glass snow globe. A miniature North Pole village filled its center. Snow fell continuously across tiny houses, moving reindeer, and several bundled figures carrying presents between buildings. One of them stopped to wave whenever Aryanna turned the globe.

“It never stops snowing,” Dalon explained. “You don’t have to shake it.”

Aryanna watched the miniature figures move. Delight softened her face as one of the reindeer trotted around a tiny frozen pond.

“It’s beautiful.”

“I saw it during the trip and thought of you.”

She set the globe down carefully before wrapping both arms around him. “I’m glad you’re home safely.”

Dalon held her tightly. “So am I.”

When Aryanna placed the snow globe on the shelf beside the television, the miniature villagers gathered near the glass to inspect their new surroundings. One waved toward Chip, who had flown down from the curtain rod to investigate. The owl leaned close to the glass and released a questioning chirp.

Emily eventually gathered the boys at the dining table for their daily practice. Dalon remained in the living room with Damon and Aryanna, but he positioned himself where he could watch.

“Show me what you have learned,” Emily instructed.

Daryan raised his black walnut wand. He steadied his wrist and pictured the controlled glow he wanted.

“Lumos.”

White light appeared at the tip.

This time it did not immediately disappear. The glow strengthened until it illuminated the table and cast pale reflections across Daryan’s face.

His concentration wavered when excitement surged through him, but he managed to keep the light steady.

“I did it!”

“You did,” Emily said. Approval brightened her expression before she returned to the lesson. “Now you need to learn how to extinguish it. The counter-charm is Nox.”

Daryan lowered his wand slightly. “Grandfather said I’m only allowed to practice two charms.”

“Nox is the direct counter-charm to Lumos,” Emily explained. “The approved exercise includes creating and extinguishing the light. The Trace records them as part of the same authorized spellwork.”

Daryan looked toward Dalon for confirmation.

“She’s right,” the Auror assured him. “You will not receive a warning for turning off a light you were permitted to create.”

Daryan returned his attention to the wand. “Nox.”

The light flickered but remained.

“Try again,” Emily encouraged him. “Do not sound as though you’re asking your wand for permission. Give it a clear instruction.”

Daryan tightened his concentration. “Nox.”

The light vanished.

Geoffrey succeeded with Lumos after three attempts. His first use of Nox created a brief cloud of gray smoke, but the light disappeared with it.

Dalon waved the smoke away from his face. “Effective, if slightly dramatic.”

“I turned it off,” Geoffrey said.

“You also attempted to smoke us out of the apartment.”

By the end of the afternoon, both boys could create and extinguish their wand lights. Their levitation charm remained less predictable. Daryan lifted his feather several inches before losing his concentration and dropping it. Geoffrey kept his floating long enough to move it across the table, but his attempt to lower it gently sent it into Dalon’s hair.

Dalon plucked the feather from the top of his head and examined it. “I have faced worse attacks.”

“Sorry,” Geoffrey said, although he was fighting a smile.

“Do not apologize. Improve your aim.”

Emily gave Dalon a pointed look. “He is learning control, not aim.”

“Of course. Improve your control in a direction that does not involve my head.”

Term was less than a week away, and the approaching departure became the main subject of every conversation. Dalon announced that he intended to accompany the family to the zeppelin terminal.

“I missed my nephew receiving his letter and buying his first wand,” he said. “I am not missing his departure.”

“You’ll need approval to travel with our Portkey group,” Damon reminded him.

“I sent Eruman the request before I came here. He will arrange it.”

Daryan looked toward Emily. “Are you coming with Geoffrey?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it.”

“You’ve been on the zeppelin before?”

“Every year I attended Ilvermorny.”

Dalon settled back against the sofa with a fond expression. “The school zeppelin was one of the best parts of returning after summer.”

“The first hour was,” Emily corrected. “After the fourth or fifth stop, everyone became restless.”

Daryan sat forward. “How many stops are there?”

“It changes depending on the students traveling that year,” Dalon explained. “The zeppelin follows a protected route and collects students from several departure terminals. It takes most of the day.”

“There is a dining hall aboard,” Emily added. “Students can eat during the journey, and there are observation areas where you can watch the landscape below.”

“What time do we reach Ilvermorny?”

“Usually late in the evening,” Dalon answered. “You will arrive in time for the Sorting Ceremony and the welcoming feast. Afterward, the prefects will show you to your dormitories.”

“Do classes start the next morning?” Geoffrey asked.

“No,” Emily said. “The first full day is reserved for orientation and settling in. Late arrivals have time to reach the school, returning students can reunite with their friends, and first-years can learn their way around before lessons begin.”

“That means we get a free day,” Geoffrey said.

“It means you receive a day to prepare,” Emily corrected.

“That sounds less fun.”

Three days before the scheduled departure, a large dark brown owl arrived at the Marsdales’ apartment carrying a reinforced parcel. Chip began calling excitedly the moment the visitor appeared outside the open window.

Daryan allowed the school owl inside. He landed on the dining table and extended one leg.

Two small packages and a cream-colored envelope had been secured to him. One package bore the Marsdale name, while the second was addressed to the Taylor household next door.

Aryanna carefully removed everything before rewarding the owl with one of Chip’s pellets. The delivery owl accepted it without complaint and remained on the table while Daryan opened the envelope.

ILVERMORNY SCHOOL
OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

ZEPPELIN DEPARTURE INSTRUCTIONS

Student: Daryan Marsdale
Authorized accompanying travelers: Aryanna Marsdale, Damon Marsdale, and Dalon Marsdale

The enclosed Portkey will activate at precisely 10:30 a.m. on the scheduled departure date. All authorized travelers must be touching the Portkey at the moment of activation.

The Portkey will transport your party directly to the protected Ilvermorny zeppelin terminal.

The zeppelin will depart at 11:15 a.m. Students must be aboard no later than fifteen minutes before departure. Late passengers will be required to arrange alternate transportation through the Ilvermorny Office of Student Travel.

A dining hall will be available throughout the journey. Students may purchase meals and refreshments aboard the zeppelin. Families may accompany students through the terminal but will not be permitted aboard without separate authorization.

Students must keep their wands, travel papers, and personal companions with them. School trunks will be collected and stored in the zeppelin’s secured luggage compartment before boarding.

The zeppelin is expected to arrive at Ilvermorny during the late evening. The Sorting Ceremony and welcoming feast will take place after all scheduled passengers have arrived.

Formal lessons will begin after the designated arrival and orientation day.

Eruman Magreth
Headmaster
Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Daryan opened the smaller package. A silver disk rested inside, engraved with the Ilvermorny Gordian Knot. The names of the four authorized travelers appeared around its edge.

Dalon leaned over his shoulder to read them. “Eruman works quickly.”

“You really get to come,” Daryan said.

“I told you I would.”

They carried Geoffrey’s package next door. His Portkey bore his name and Emily’s, along with the same arrival and departure times.

The reality of leaving settled over both boys once the Portkeys arrived. Their excitement remained, but uneasiness grew whenever they counted the days remaining.

Daryan checked his supply list repeatedly, even after Aryanna assured him that everything had been packed. Geoffrey worried that Snowbird would refuse to enter his travel cage. Both boys continued practicing Lumos, Nox, and Wingardium Leviosa until Emily declared that they were as prepared as incoming first-years needed to be.

On the evening before their departure, Daryan lay across his bed reading A History of Magic. His packed trunk stood near the door, and his clothes for the morning had been folded on top of it. Chip rested on the windowsill, watching the last traces of sunlight disappear between the surrounding buildings.

A soft tapping came from the glass.

Chip immediately spread his wings.

Another owl hovered outside the window. He was slightly larger than Chip, with brown feathers and a rolled piece of parchment secured to one leg.

Daryan opened the window and allowed him inside. The visiting owl landed on his desk while Chip watched every movement with intense interest.

Daryan untied the parchment.

Dear Daryan,

I hope you remember me from the bookstore in Hushnote. I’m Theo Vega. Are you looking forward to Ilvermorny? I am excited, but I’m also nervous about the trip and the Sorting Ceremony.

Would you be willing to sit with me on the zeppelin? I don’t know any of the other first-year students yet, except for you.

Theo

Daryan read the letter twice. He remembered Theo standing beside Marisol with Chadwick’s Charms pressed against his chest. Knowing that someone else felt nervous made his own anxiety easier to accept.

He found a clean piece of parchment and wrote his answer.

Dear Theo,

Of course I remember you. I’m nervous too, but I’m looking forward to seeing Ilvermorny. I would be happy to sit with you on the zeppelin as long as my best friend, Geoffrey, can sit with us too. He is also beginning his first year.

I think the three of us will have a good trip together.

Daryan

He rolled the parchment into a tiny scroll. The visiting owl extended his leg as though he knew exactly what was expected.

Chip hopped closer, watching as Daryan secured the letter with the narrow cord. He examined the knot and pecked gently at the parchment.

“This is how you’ll carry letters,” Daryan explained. “You have to keep them safe until you reach the right person.”

Chip tilted his head.

The visiting owl launched from the desk and disappeared through the open window. Chip leaned outside, following his flight until the brown shape vanished into the evening sky.

Approximately an hour later, the owl returned.

Chip chirped excitedly and moved aside to let him land. Another small piece of parchment had been tied to his leg.

Dear Daryan,

Geoffrey can sit with us too. I can’t wait to meet him. I think the three of us are going to be good friends.

I’ll see you tomorrow.

Theo

Daryan smiled as he read the letter. He placed both messages inside the top drawer of his desk before rewarding the patient owl with a pellet.

The brown owl departed once more, leaving Chip staring thoughtfully after him. Daryan closed the window and returned to his bed. Chip remained on the sill, practicing quiet chirps while Daryan attempted to finish one final chapter before Aryanna ordered him to turn out the light.

 

 

Chapter 6

Above the Nashville Fog

Daryan awakened to the smell of pancakes and sausage drifting into his bedroom and the uncomfortable sensation of something pecking his cheek.

He groaned and pulled the blanket over his head, but the pecking merely moved to his ear.

“I’m awake,” Daryan mumbled.

Chip responded with an impatient chirp.

Daryan lowered the blanket enough to look at the small gray owl standing beside his pillow. Chip stared back with enormous amber eyes before pecking lightly at his forehead.

“You’re going to eat me if I don’t feed you, aren’t you?”

Chip hooted with enough enthusiasm to suggest the possibility.

Daryan pushed himself upright. His room was dim except for the early sunlight entering around the curtains. His packed school trunk stood beside the door, with the Ilvermorny acceptance letter and travel instructions resting on top. The silver Portkey remained safely inside its padded box on the dresser.

This was the last morning Daryan would awaken in his own bed before leaving for Ilvermorny. Excitement stirred inside him as he looked at the trunk, but it was accompanied by the nervousness that had been growing since the departure instructions arrived.

Chip pecked his shoulder again.

“Right. Breakfast.”

Daryan crossed the room and opened the bag of grain-and-insect pellets. He scooped some into the owl’s bowl before placing it beside the window. Chip hopped onto the rim and chirped happily before lowering his head to eat.

“You could say thank you.”

Chip looked up long enough to hoot before returning to his breakfast.

Daryan followed the smell of pancakes into the kitchen. Aryanna stood near the stove in her robe, moving food onto plates. Damon sat at the counter with a mug of coffee and looked far more awake than any person should at that hour.

“Morning,” Daryan greeted them.

“Good morning, love.” Aryanna placed a plate of pancakes and sausage in front of him. “Eat everything. We have a long day ahead of us.”

Daryan climbed onto one of the stools. “There’s a dining hall on the zeppelin.”

“The zeppelin does not leave until eleven fifteen. You still need breakfast.”

“I was only reminding you.”

“I have spent the last three days checking the departure instructions. I do not need reminders.”

Damon looked at Daryan over the rim of his coffee mug. “She checked them twice after you went to bed.”

Aryanna turned from the stove and leveled a defensive look at her husband. “I wanted to make certain the time had not changed.”

“Did it?”

“No.”

“Then checking worked.”

Aryanna’s eyes narrowed, but the corner of her mouth betrayed her amusement. She returned her attention to Daryan and pointed the spatula at him.

“After breakfast, you need to shower and get dressed. Wear your jeans and the light shirt I left in the bathroom. Your school robes are packed where you can reach them during the journey.”

Daryan poured syrup over his pancakes. “Can Chip stay on my shoulder when we use the Portkey?”

“No. He must be inside his cage for the first part of the journey.”

“He hates the cage.”

“He will survive a few minutes. Dalon and Emily both said you can let him out once you are safely aboard the zeppelin.”

“Why can’t he fly there?”

Aryanna set the spatula beside the stove and faced her son with both hands on her hips. “Because he does not know where the terminal is, and I am not losing your owl on the morning you leave.”

Damon reached for a piece of sausage from Daryan’s plate. Daryan slapped his hand away and pulled the plate closer.

“Apparently, other students allow their owls to fly beside the zeppelin once it is traveling,” Aryanna continued. “Emily said it gives them exercise, and many owls enjoy following the ship between stops.”

Daryan imagined Chip soaring beside the massive airship. “He’ll like that.”

“He can enjoy it after the crew says it is safe.”

Chip flew into the kitchen and landed on the back of the empty stool beside Daryan. A piece of his breakfast pellet remained stuck to his beak.

“You’re not getting any pancakes,” Aryanna told him.

Chip turned toward Daryan with a pleading tilt of his head.

“Don’t look at me. She makes the rules.”

The owl released a disappointed sound and began cleaning his beak against the back of the stool.

Daryan finished breakfast before going to shower. He brushed his teeth and changed into the jeans and light blue T-shirt Aryanna had selected. He attempted to flatten his hair with water, but several sections sprang back into place as soon as he removed his hands.

He was still fighting with it when the doorbell rang.

A familiar voice traveled through the apartment as Aryanna opened the door.

“Good morning. Has our future Horned Serpent packed everything he owns?”

“He hasn’t been sorted yet,” Damon answered.

“I’m making an educated guess.”

Daryan left the bathroom and entered the hallway. Dalon stood in the living room wearing dark pants and a navy shirt beneath his traveling coat. His wand remained secured inside the holster under his arm.

“Morning, Uncle Dalon.”

“There he is.” Dalon examined him with an approving nod. “You appear ready.”

“I am.”

“He has another two hours before he begins asking whether it’s time to leave every thirty seconds,” Damon warned.

Dalon glanced around the apartment. “Has Emily arrived yet?”

“No,” Aryanna answered. “She and Geoffrey are coming over closer to the Portkey time.”

Damon studied his younger brother. “Were you expecting her early?”

“No. I was only asking.”

“Do you like Emily?”

Dalon paused while removing his coat. His gaze slid toward Damon with immediate suspicion. “What kind of question is that?”

“A simple one.”

Aryanna leaned against the kitchen counter. Recognition brightened her expression as Dalon deliberately focused on hanging his coat over the back of a chair.

“You asked about Emily before you asked whether Daryan had everything he needed,” she pointed out.

“I asked whether he had packed everything he owned.”

“That is not the same thing,” Damon said.

Dalon glanced toward the hallway and discovered Daryan listening. Resignation settled across his face as he realized there was no graceful escape from the conversation.

“I might like her.”

Damon’s eyebrows rose. “You might?”

“She is intelligent, she understands the magical world, and she was always pleasant at school.”

“And?” Aryanna prompted.

Dalon released a quiet sigh. “She’s easy on the eyes.”

Damon laughed while Aryanna covered her amusement with one hand.

“You know she lives next door,” Aryanna reminded him. “You may want to keep your voice down.”

Daryan stepped fully into the living room. “Are you going to ask Emily on a date?”

Dalon turned toward him. “How long were you standing there?”

“Long enough.”

“I have not decided anything.”

“You said she’s easy on the eyes.”

“That is an observation, not a plan.”

Damon rested a sympathetic hand on his brother’s shoulder. “He’s going to tell Geoffrey.”

“I am not,” Daryan promised.

Dalon narrowed his eyes. “Why don’t I believe you?”

“Because he’s eleven,” Aryanna said. “You should probably assume that everything you say near him will eventually reach Geoffrey.”

“I can keep secrets,” Daryan insisted.

Damon raised one eyebrow. “You told Geoffrey what he was getting for his birthday last year.”

“That was an accident.”

“You showed him where we hid it.”

“I was excited.”

Dalon considered the evidence before pointing toward his nephew. “You are forbidden from becoming excited about my personal life.”

Daryan agreed, although his smile did little to reassure him.

The conversation gave Daryan something new to think about while they waited. Dalon examined the travel papers, Aryanna inspected the food she had packed for the terminal, and Damon walked through the apartment checking windows and appliances. Daryan tried to sit with one of his school books but found himself reading the same paragraph repeatedly.

Approximately ten minutes before the Portkeys were scheduled to activate, Damon followed Daryan into the bedroom to retrieve his trunk. Eruman’s lightening charm had worn off, restoring the trunk’s full weight.

Damon gripped one handle and attempted to lift it. Surprise tightened his face when the trunk barely moved.

“What did you pack in here?”

“Books.”

“All of them?”

“Only the ones on my list.”

Dalon joined them and took the handle on the opposite end. “I’ll help carry it through the Portkey. Keep the trunk between us, and it should travel with the group.”

Daryan turned toward Chip’s cage. The owl sat on top of it and refused to move.

“You have to go inside now.”

Chip fluffed his feathers.

“It’s only until we reach the zeppelin.”

The owl looked away and began studying the wall.

Daryan offered him a pellet. Chip accepted the treat and allowed himself to be moved toward the open cage. The moment Daryan attempted to place him inside, however, he spread his wings and returned to the dresser.

“You’re making this harder than it needs to be.”

Dalon leaned against the trunk and watched Chip with open amusement. “It may help if you stop asking him as though he has a choice.”

Daryan approached more confidently the second time. He lifted Chip, placed him gently inside the cage, and closed the door before the owl could escape. Chip stared at him through the bars with an expression of complete betrayal.

“I’ll let you out as soon as we’re safely aboard.”

Chip turned around and presented Daryan with his back.

The doorbell rang again.

Emily stood outside with Geoffrey. Both wore comfortable traveling clothes beneath lightweight cloaks. Geoffrey’s trunk rested between them, with Snowbird’s cage securely strapped to the top. The snowy owl sat inside with perfect dignity, apparently accepting his temporary imprisonment more gracefully than Chip.

Emily held their silver Portkey in one hand.

“Good morning,” she greeted everyone.

“Morning,” Dalon answered before anyone else.

Damon glanced toward Aryanna, who pressed her lips together to conceal her amusement. Dalon noticed the exchange and focused with exaggerated interest on Geoffrey’s trunk.

Geoffrey entered and immediately found Daryan. “Are you ready?”

“I think so.”

“That isn’t very convincing.”

“Are you?”

“No.”

The boys shared a nervous laugh. Seeing Geoffrey dressed for the journey made the approaching departure feel real in a way that the packed trunks and Portkeys had not.

Aryanna checked the clock. It was twenty-nine minutes past ten.

“Everyone take your places.”

Dalon and Damon positioned themselves on either side of Daryan’s trunk. Aryanna held Chip’s cage while Daryan placed his hand against the Marsdale Portkey. Dalon and Damon each kept one hand on the trunk and reached for the silver disk with the other.

Beside them, Emily held Geoffrey’s Portkey against the handle of his trunk. Geoffrey gripped the disk with one hand and kept the other against Snowbird’s cage.

The clock changed to ten thirty. Both Portkeys warmed, and the apartment disappeared around them.

Daryan tightened his grip as color and rushing air blurred together. Chip cried out from inside the cage, but the disorienting journey lasted only a moment before Daryan’s shoes struck stone.

He stumbled forward and managed to remain upright. Damon and Dalon landed beside him with the trunk still held securely between them. Aryanna appeared on his other side and steadied herself with one hand against Dalon’s shoulder.

Emily and Geoffrey arrived several feet away at almost the same moment.

They stood on a broad departure deck at the top of a skyscraper high above downtown Nashville. Heavy fog surrounded the building, obscuring the streets and towers below. The mist rolled over the deck in slow waves, hiding the magical terminal from anyone looking up from the city.

Aryanna and Damon recovered their balance before turning toward each other with matching expressions of exhilaration.

“That was incredible,” Damon said.

“It still is,” Aryanna agreed. She took a slow breath and looked over the edge of the fog-covered platform. “I knew what to expect this time, but I don’t think I’ll ever grow accustomed to it.”

Daryan steadied himself beside his trunk. “I still don’t like it.”

“You remained on your feet this time,” Damon pointed out.

“That doesn’t mean I enjoyed it.”

The departure deck was crowded with families. Witches and wizards moved between lines of luggage while children clutched wand boxes, animal carriers, and travel papers. Some students called greetings to friends they had not seen since the previous term, while others remained close to their parents and watched everything with nervous expressions.

The variety of animal companions made the terminal even louder. Owls called from cages or circled through the fog. Cats peered from wicker carriers, and a nervous boy struggled to keep a spotted toad from crawling out of his pocket. A bright red bird occupied one girl’s shoulder and repeated every announcement made by the crew in a voice several times louder than necessary.

Goblins wearing dark blue crew uniforms directed passengers toward the boarding area. They moved efficiently through the crowds, stamping luggage, checking names, and answering questions with varying degrees of patience.

Beyond them waited the Ilvermorny zeppelin.

Daryan had imagined an ordinary airship with a large balloon and a cabin suspended beneath it. The vessel before him looked more like a flying palace.

Its enormous silver envelope stretched beyond the edges of the rooftop, decorated with blue-and-cranberry bands and the golden Gordian Knot of Ilvermorny. A massive wooden hull hung beneath it, containing several enclosed decks, rows of windows, and open observation areas protected by glowing barriers. Four enchanted sails extended from the sides, their deep blue fabric shifting to catch air currents Daryan could not feel.

A team of twelve gryphons waited in front of the ship. Their eagle heads turned alertly as crew members inspected the silver harnesses connecting them to the zeppelin. Powerful lion bodies rested against the platform while enormous wings opened and closed within the fog.

Daryan stared at them. “Those are real gryphons.”

“Very real,” Dalon said. His tone sharpened as Daryan leaned forward for a better look. “Do not attempt to pet one without permission.”

“How big is the zeppelin?”

“It can carry nearly five hundred people in its ordinary configuration. Expansion charms create more space if additional students or crew members need to travel.”

“It’s bigger inside than outside?”

“Most magical transportation is.”

A gryphon released a piercing cry. Chip answered from inside his cage with a much less impressive hoot.

A large clock above the boarding gates showed thirty-eight minutes past ten. Families had less than forty minutes before departure.

They joined the luggage line. Parents were permitted to carry trunks as far as the terminal’s receiving area, where goblin crew members inspected and transferred them aboard the zeppelin.

When Daryan reached the front, a short goblin in a blue cap opened his ledger.

“Student’s name?”

“Daryan Marsdale.”

The goblin found his entry and pressed a square stamp against the trunk’s lid. Golden letters appeared across the wood.

DARYAN MARSDALE
CABIN 314
CENTRAL LUGGAGE HOLD

The goblin snapped his fingers. Daryan’s trunk vanished in a swirl of blue sparks.

Damon stared at the empty space where it had been. “Where did it go?”

“The central luggage hold,” the goblin answered without looking up from his ledger. “Students may access their trunks during the journey. An announcement will be made before arrival so they have time to change into their school robes. After the Sorting Ceremony, the trunks will be transferred to the appropriate dormitories.”

Geoffrey removed Snowbird’s cage from the top of his trunk before the goblin stamped it.

GEOFFREY TAYLOR
CABIN 314
CENTRAL LUGGAGE HOLD

Geoffrey brightened when he read the number. “It looks like we’re together.”

“I hope Theo is too.”

They proceeded toward the boarding ramps. The clock above the gate showed eleven o’clock, and crew members had begun asking families to complete their farewells.

Daryan’s excitement weakened as he realized his parents could go no farther.

Aryanna knelt and pulled him into her arms. Her fingers pressed against the back of his shirt, and she held him tightly enough for Daryan to feel the uneven breath she drew against his shoulder.

“You will write as soon as you arrive.”

“I will.”

“And use the speaking glass after your grandfather sends it.”

“I promise.”

“If you forget anything or become worried, tell someone. You have your grandfather, your professors, Geoffrey, and all the people responsible for helping you.”

“I know.”

Aryanna leaned back and studied his face. Pride and worry moved together through her expression as she brushed one unruly section of hair away from his forehead.

“I am so proud of you.”

Damon embraced him next, lifting him briefly from the ground. Daryan buried his face against his father’s shoulder and inhaled the familiar traces of coffee, bread, and deli spices clinging to his shirt.

“Enjoy every part of this,” Damon told him as he placed him back on his feet. “Even the difficult parts.”

“I’ll try.”

“Take care of your wand, listen to your professors, and do not allow that owl to eat anything important.”

Chip chirped from inside the cage.

“He says he won’t,” Daryan interpreted.

Damon gave the owl a doubtful look. “He is not a reliable witness.”

Dalon waited until Damon stepped aside before resting both hands on Daryan’s shoulders.

“If you need anything and cannot reach your parents, send me an owl. Aurors are excellent at solving problems.”

“Are they?”

Dalon’s confidence slipped into a playful grin. “We are excellent at convincing people that we solve problems.”

Daryan hugged his uncle. “Thanks for coming.”

Dalon returned the embrace without hesitation. “I wouldn’t have missed it.”

Nearby, Emily held Geoffrey tightly while Snowbird waited in his cage. When she released her son, she straightened his jacket and spoke too quietly for Daryan to hear. Geoffrey nodded, though his eyes remained fixed on the boarding ramp.

Dalon approached Emily once she finished.

“He’ll be all right,” he assured her.

“I know.” Emily looked toward Geoffrey, and the tension around her mouth softened. “Knowing it and feeling it are apparently different things.”

Dalon rested a reassuring hand against her upper arm. “We can be nervous together.”

Emily looked at him with mild surprise before a smile warmed her face. “I suppose we can.”

Damon and Aryanna exchanged another knowing glance but wisely kept their observations to themselves.

A goblin crew member called for all first-year students to board.

Daryan accepted Chip’s cage from Aryanna. Geoffrey lifted Snowbird’s, and the boys approached the ramp together. Before crossing the boarding gate, they turned and waved.

Their families remained near the barrier. Aryanna and Damon stood with their arms around each other, while Dalon remained beside Emily. All four waved as the boys crossed onto the zeppelin’s receiving deck.

Chip began moving impatiently inside his cage.

“We’re on the ship,” Daryan told him. “You can come out soon.”

The deck was wider than it had appeared from the terminal. Enchanted arrows directed students toward their assigned cabins, the dining hall, observation decks, and the central luggage hold. Goblins moved among the passengers, checking tickets and securing loose belongings.

“Daryan!”

Theo hurried toward them through the crowd, one hand gripping the strap of the small traveling bag over his shoulder. Marisol followed at a calmer pace with her own bag.

“There you are.” Theo stopped in front of Daryan and glanced at the travel tag attached to Chip’s cage. “Which cabin did they give you?”

“Three-fourteen.”

The nervous set of Theo’s shoulders immediately relaxed. He held up the tag attached to his bag, revealing the same number. “Me too.”

Geoffrey turned Snowbird’s cage so Theo could see its tag. “All three of us, then.”

“Good.” Theo released a breath and smiled. “I was starting to think they might have put us at opposite ends of the ship.”

Daryan motioned between the two boys. “Theo, this is Geoffrey. Geoffrey, this is Theo.”

“Nice to finally meet you,” Theo said.

Geoffrey returned the smile. “You too. Daryan told me your sister already attends Ilvermorny.”

Marisol reached them in time to hear the last remark. “I do, which means you three have someone to keep you from getting lost before we even leave Nashville.”

Theo gave her a patient look. “We know how to follow cabin numbers.”

“You also walked past the stairs twice while looking for Daryan.”

Theo adjusted the strap of his bag and decided not to answer that.

Daryan glanced toward the signs leading below deck. “Do you know where Cabin 314 is?”

“Down one level and toward the front,” Marisol told him. “Follow the blue lanterns. I’ll show you where the dining hall is once everyone finishes boarding.”

A voice called Theo and Marisol’s names from the terminal. Their parents stood beyond the boarding barrier and waved from beside the crowd. Theo hurried to the railing and raised one hand, calling that he would write after they arrived. Marisol lifted both hands in farewell before guiding her brother away from the growing cluster of students.

Daryan found an open section of railing and looked back toward the terminal. His parents were still visible. Aryanna lifted one arm above the crowd, while Damon kept the other around her shoulders. Daryan waved again, and they responded.

The clock reached eleven fifteen.

Goblins released the heavy ropes securing the zeppelin to the departure tower as the gryphons rose and extended their wings. One after another, the great creatures leaped from the platform and disappeared into the fog. Their silver harnesses tightened, and the zeppelin began moving.

Its massive sails unfurled, catching invisible currents as the gryphons pulled it away from the skyscraper. The rooftop terminal receded behind them. Daryan continued waving until fog surrounded the vessel and his family disappeared from view.

The deck trembled gently beneath his feet as the airship climbed.

Daryan opened Chip’s cage. The little owl immediately hopped onto his arm and climbed to his usual place on his shoulder. Geoffrey released Snowbird, who emerged more slowly and surveyed the vessel before spreading his broad white wings.

Several other owls were already flying around the zeppelin. They glided beside the observation deck or followed the ship through the mist.

Chip launched from Daryan’s shoulder and joined them.

“Do you think he’ll come back?” Daryan asked.

Geoffrey watched Chip circle once around the nearest sail. “He knows where his food is.”

Snowbird followed Chip into the air, although he maintained enough distance to pretend the smaller owl had not influenced his decision.

The three boys watched their owls fly beside the zeppelin until Marisol reminded them to find their cabin. She escorted them to the staircase marked by blue lanterns before leaving to locate her own room on an upper deck.

The lower decks contained long corridors lined with polished wooden doors. Brass nameplates identified the students assigned to each room.

They found Cabin 314 near the front of the vessel.

Five names appeared on its door:

DARYAN MARSDALE
GEOFFREY TAYLOR
THEO VEGA
HARPER POINTE
PARKER POINTE

Daryan opened the door.

The cabin was small but comfortable. Two deeply cushioned benches faced each other along the side walls, with enough space for three students to sit on each. A narrow table had been folded flat against the wall between them and could be lowered whenever the passengers wanted to eat, study, or play games.

A wide window filled the outer wall, offering an uninterrupted view of the clouds beyond the zeppelin. A circular owl hatch had been built above it, with a small brass latch that could be opened from either side. Narrow shelves and several hooks provided space for traveling bags, animal carriers, jackets, and the empty owl cages.

A girl and boy were already seated on the bench opposite the window.

They appeared to be twins, although they were not identical. Both had warm brown skin and dark, expressive eyes. The girl wore her black hair in two long braids, while the boy’s curls had been cut short around his face.

A small red-and-brown falcon occupied one of the narrow shelves behind the girl. His dark eyes moved sharply between the newcomers, and his claws tightened whenever the zeppelin shifted. Beside the boy, an open traveling case had been lined with damp moss, polished stones, and several broad leaves. A green-and-brown toad sat in the center with his front feet resting on one of the stones.

The girl rose from the bench. “I’m Harper Pointe. That’s my brother, Parker.”

Parker lifted one hand in greeting. Mild resignation passed across his face as his sister completed both introductions. “She usually tells people my name before I get the chance.”

“It saves time.”

“I know my own name.”

Harper looked toward the three newcomers. “Which of you is which?”

They introduced themselves one at a time.

The falcon leaned forward when Daryan spoke. Chip’s empty cage caught his attention, and his gaze shifted toward the window as though searching for the missing owl.

“That’s Dash,” Harper explained, following Daryan’s attention. Pride animated her voice as the falcon spread his wings without leaving the shelf. “He’s an American kestrel. He’ll come down when he decides everyone is interesting enough.”

Parker carefully lifted the toad from his traveling case. “And this is Bramble. He’s friendlier.”

Bramble blinked once and settled into Parker’s palm, apparently unwilling to prove the claim with any greater enthusiasm.

“How do you three know each other?” Parker asked while returning Bramble to his bed of moss.

“Daryan and I have been neighbors our whole lives,” Geoffrey explained.

“I met them while we were shopping in Hushnote,” Theo added. “Daryan was there with his grandfather.”

“Your grandfather took you shopping?” Harper asked.

Theo answered before Daryan could. “His grandfather is Headmaster Magreth.”

Daryan shifted uncomfortably as both twins looked at him with surprise.

“He’s technically my great-grandfather,” Daryan explained. “I just call him Grandfather.”

Parker leaned forward, resting his forearms against his knees. “Does that mean you already know how the Sorting Ceremony works?”

“He told me what happens, but I don’t know which house will choose me.”

“Good.” Parker’s shoulders relaxed as he settled against the bench. “If you knew that already, it would ruin half the fun.”

Neither twin appeared to expect Daryan to prove anything because of his relationship with Eruman. After their initial surprise faded, they treated him exactly as they had before, allowing the tension in his shoulders to ease.

Theo placed his traveling bag on one of the shelves. “Do we choose where we sit?”

“I don’t see any names on the benches,” Parker observed.

“That means yes,” Harper decided. She dropped back into her place and moved Dash’s empty carrier farther beneath the bench with one foot. “Unless a goblin comes in and tells us otherwise.”

Daryan, Geoffrey, and Theo sat together on the bench nearest the window. Harper and Parker remained opposite them, with Bramble’s moss-lined case resting safely beside Parker’s feet. The folding table stayed against the wall, leaving the small cabin more open.

A tapping sound drew Daryan’s attention toward the window. Chip hovered outside, pecking at the glass.

“How does he get inside?”

Parker pointed toward the circular opening above the window. “That must be the owl hatch.”

Daryan reached up and opened it. Chip flew inside and circled the cabin before landing on the top of the folded table. Snowbird followed and settled on the highest shelf with far more dignity.

Dash immediately left his perch and swept across the cabin. Chip ducked as the kestrel passed overhead, but Dash merely circled him before returning to Harper and landing on the back of the bench behind her.

Harper raised one hand toward him, amusement flashing across her face. “Apparently, the owls are interesting enough.”

Chip chirped and bowed toward Dash. The kestrel regarded him with guarded curiosity before giving his feathers a quick shake.

Harper approached Chip carefully. “He’s adorable.”

“His name is Chip,” Daryan explained.

“Snowbird is the white one,” Geoffrey added. “He’s less friendly.”

Snowbird stared down at them as though confirming the assessment.

Theo watched the owl’s solemn expression and struggled not to laugh. “I think he’s judging the cabin.”

“He judges everything,” Geoffrey said. “You get used to it.”

The five children began comparing hometowns, school books, animal companions, and the houses they hoped would choose them. Harper spoke without hesitation.

“Thunderbird.”

“You sound certain,” Daryan said.

“I want to explore places no one else has seen, and I want to fly competitively. Thunderbird makes sense.”

Parker gently adjusted one of the broad leaves inside Bramble’s carrier. “I think I would choose Pukwudgie. Healers have to understand more than spells. They need to understand people and creatures too.”

Theo rubbed his palms against his knees before admitting that he had not decided. “I’ve tried choosing based on the descriptions, but I don’t know whether the carvings will see me the same way I see myself.”

“That’s why we have to wait,” Geoffrey said. His tone was practical rather than worried. “We can guess all afternoon, but it won’t change what happens.”

Daryan looked through the window at the shifting clouds. “I don’t want to guess and then be disappointed.”

“Then don’t choose a favorite,” Geoffrey advised. “Act surprised no matter what happens.”

Daryan laughed, but he privately wished the decision felt that simple.

A chime sounded through the ship. A goblin’s voice announced that the zeppelin had cleared the Nashville terminal and would begin serving lunch in the dining hall. Their first additional student pickup would occur later that afternoon.

The gryphons broke through the fog, carrying the zeppelin into brilliant sunlight. Nashville stretched far below them, growing smaller as the vessel turned toward its next destination.

Marisol returned a short while later carrying a small wicker carrier. A tortoiseshell cat pushed open its loose lid the moment Marisol set it on the floor. She emerged with an indignant cry, crossed the cabin, and climbed directly into Theo’s lap.

Theo gathered the cat against him. The nervous tension in his posture eased as she pressed her face beneath his chin and began purring.

“Mica refused to remain in my cabin once she realized you had left,” Marisol explained.

Theo scratched beneath the cat’s chin. “She worries.”

“She screamed at the door for ten minutes.”

Mica curled against Theo’s stomach, her earlier distress already forgotten. Theo looked at his sister as though the solution should have been obvious from the beginning.

“And now she’s stopped. See how easy it is to satisfy her?”

Marisol’s expression suggested that she had several responses but lacked the patience to share any of them. She placed the carrier beneath Theo’s bench and motioned toward the corridor.

“The dining hall is serving lunch. If you wait much longer, the older students will take all the good desserts.”

Harper rose immediately and offered Dash her arm. The kestrel stepped onto it before climbing to her shoulder. Parker carefully closed Bramble’s traveling case, checking the latch twice before leaving it beneath the bench.

Daryan looked around the cabin at Geoffrey, Theo, Harper, and Parker as they prepared to leave. He had known three of them for less than an hour, but their differences already made the cabin feel lively. Harper moved toward the door as though every unexplored part of the zeppelin had issued her a personal invitation. Parker remained behind long enough to ensure each animal carrier was secure. Theo waited for Mica to settle in his arms before standing, while Geoffrey checked that Chip and Snowbird could reach the owl hatch if they wanted to return outside.

Daryan followed them into the corridor, his nervousness about Ilvermorny no longer feeling like something he carried alone.

 

 

Chapter 7

The Forest Remembers

The final sunlight caught the zeppelin’s silver envelope as the vessel descended toward the dark forest below. From the observation lounge, Daryan watched the remaining daylight spread across the mountains in bands of deep orange and fading gold before disappearing behind Mount Greylock.

He stood near one of the broad windows with Geoffrey, Theo, Harper, and Parker. All five had visited the central luggage hold during the final portion of the journey to retrieve their school robes. Daryan’s blue-and-cranberry uniform still felt unfamiliar around his shoulders, although seeing his friends dressed the same way made him feel less conspicuous.

Returning students gathered their smaller bags and secured their animal carriers as they crowded around the windows. Their earlier restlessness had given way to excitement, and conversations rose throughout the lounge as familiar landmarks appeared below.

Chip rested on Daryan’s shoulder. The little gray owl had spent much of the journey flying beside the zeppelin with Snowbird and dozens of other owls. His feathers were ruffled from the wind and his amber eyes had grown heavy, but he remained determined to watch the approaching forest.

Snowbird stood beside Geoffrey on the window ledge, maintaining the solemn dignity of an owl who believed he had personally guided the airship to its destination. Mica remained inside her carrier at Theo’s feet, while Bramble watched the view from Parker’s hands. Dash had claimed Harper’s shoulder and shifted eagerly whenever one of the gryphons passed the window.

The zeppelin descended toward an enormous docking tower concealed among the trees. The structure rose above the forest canopy, its upper platform supported by stone pillars and reinforced wooden beams. Blue lanterns burned along its edges, guiding the airship through the gathering darkness.

The gryphons spread their wings and pulled against their silver harnesses as they slowed. The zeppelin’s enchanted sails folded against the wooden hull, and the vessel settled beside the tower with a deep groan that traveled through every deck.

Heavy ropes flew from the docking platform and wrapped themselves around the securing posts. Goblin crew members moved across the outer deck, checking the lines before lowering a broad ramp.

Marisol appeared in the doorway of the observation lounge. Her thick curls had been gathered away from her face, and her Pukwudgie clasp gleamed against her robes.

“We’re here,” she announced.

Theo leaned closer to the window, searching beyond the tower. “Where’s the castle?”

“You can’t see it from the dock. We have to follow the path through the forest.”

Parker looked down at the dense collection of trees. His fingers tightened protectively around Bramble when something large moved beneath the branches. “That sounds reassuring.”

“It is safe if you follow instructions.” Marisol’s expression became noticeably more serious. “Leave your trunks in the luggage hold. The staff will transfer them to the correct dormitories after the Choosing Ceremony.”

“How will they know where everything belongs?” Geoffrey asked.

“The castle keeps track of the Choosing. Your luggage tags will update as soon as your houses select you.”

Daryan glanced toward the corridor leading below decks. Leaving his belongings aboard the zeppelin felt strange, but none of the returning students appeared concerned. Most were already moving toward the exits with only their animals and smaller bags.

A deep voice echoed throughout the ship.

“Students will disembark by year. Returning students should proceed directly to the forest path. First-years will remain on the lower docking platform until called.”

Marisol glanced toward the ceiling. “That’s Professor Sylveran. Listen carefully to everything he tells you.”

Harper adjusted the strap securing Dash’s perch to her shoulder. “Is he strict?”

Marisol gave her a meaningful look. “He teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts. He prefers students who survive long enough to complete his class.”

Before Harper could decide whether she was joking, Marisol turned and joined the crowd moving toward the boarding ramp.

The five first-years followed. Chip remained on Daryan’s shoulder, while Snowbird flew above Geoffrey through the corridor. Theo carried Mica’s cage with both hands, enduring an offended stare from the tortoiseshell cat whenever another student jostled them. Harper kept one hand near Dash, and Parker tucked Bramble safely into a padded satchel.

Most of the older students appeared eager to leave after the long journey. They called greetings between groups, compared summer stories, and discussed the welcoming feast waiting inside the castle.

Cool mountain air struck Daryan’s face when he stepped from the zeppelin. The forest smelled of pine, damp earth, and something faintly sweet that he could not identify. Thousands of leaves rustled below the docking tower, although almost no wind moved through the platform.

A broad spiral staircase wrapped around the outside of the structure, descending from the dock to the forest floor. Blue flames burned inside iron cages along its railing.

A massive man stood beside the top of the stairs. He was taller than anyone Daryan had ever met, with broad shoulders and heavy arms beneath dark blue robes. Long black hair streaked with gray had been tied at the back of his neck. A narrow scar crossed one side of his jaw before disappearing beneath his collar.

“Returning students, follow the blue lights to the castle!” he called. His voice carried above the crowd without any visible effort. “Do not stop on the stairs, block the path, or attempt to retrieve your luggage. Everything will be delivered after the Choosing.”

The returning students began descending. Several greeted the professor as they passed, and he responded to each of them without losing track of the moving crowd.

“Welcome back, Miss Vega,” he told Marisol. “Keep your brother on the platform.”

“I was planning to.”

Theo’s brows drew together as his sister disappeared down the stairs. “She makes it sound as though I’m likely to wander off.”

Mica released a questioning meow from inside her carrier.

Theo looked down at her. “You are not helping.”

“First-years remain on the platform!” Professor Sylveran called. “If you do not know whether that includes you, speak to me before making a poor decision.”

Harper immediately stepped farther away from the stairs. Dash opened his wings to steady himself, and she murmured an apology before adjusting his perch.

Once the returning students had departed, approximately thirty first-years remained. Some stood beside children they had met during the journey, while others stayed alone and watched the forest uneasily.

Professor Sylveran faced them.

“My name is Fadero Sylveran. I teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. My responsibility tonight is to deliver every one of you to the castle safely. Whether I succeed depends partly upon your willingness to listen.”

The quiet conversations stopped.

“The path between this tower and Ilvermorny passes through one of the most heavily protected magical forests in North America. The creatures living within it recognize returning students and members of the faculty. They do not yet recognize you.”

Daryan looked over the edge of the platform. The darkness between the trees appeared deeper now that he knew something might be watching from inside it.

“You will remain together and stay on the path,” Professor Sylveran continued. “You will not chase lights between the trees, investigate unusual noises, pick flowers, collect feathers, or follow anyone who calls your name from outside the group.”

Dash clicked his beak and stared into the forest with renewed interest. Harper placed one hand gently over his wings.

“What happens if we leave the path?” a boy near the back asked.

Professor Sylveran’s scar tightened with the rest of his expression. “Depending upon what finds you first, death is a strong possibility.”

A few students released uncertain laughs. The professor allowed the sound to fade without reacting to it.

“I am not attempting to frighten you for my amusement. Some creatures within this forest can kill an unrecognized first-year before anyone hears the attack. Others imitate familiar voices and use them to lure travelers away from the protected path. Ilvermorny will defend its students, but the forest must first learn who you are.”

Geoffrey moved a little closer to Daryan. His attention remained on Professor Sylveran, but one hand had settled protectively against the front of his robes where he carried his wand.

“How does the forest recognize us?” Theo asked. His voice remained steady, although his grip had tightened around Mica’s carrier.

“You will place your hands into the Reflecting River,” Professor Sylveran explained. “Once it accepts your magical reflection, the forest will recognize you as students of Ilvermorny.”

He directed them toward the staircase. Daryan followed Geoffrey, with Theo, Harper, and Parker close behind. Chip lowered himself against Daryan’s shoulder and watched the surrounding trees as though he had understood every warning.

The spiral stairs seemed much longer from the top. As they descended, the zeppelin towered above them, its silver envelope reflecting the last traces of daylight. Goblins crossed the platform while several Pukwudgies emerged from the ship, grumbling among themselves as they began organizing the luggage.

The first-years eventually reached the forest floor.

A stone path stretched between enormous trees. Blue flames floated several feet above the ground, forming a winding trail through the darkness. Returning students had already disappeared around a distant bend, and their voices faded among the branches.

The forest felt awake.

Daryan could not see any animals, but he sensed movement beyond the path. Branches shifted without wind, and shadows passed between trees before he could focus on them. Two pale eyes opened several feet above the ground. They watched the first-years until Professor Sylveran looked in their direction, then vanished behind the trunk of an ancient pine.

Chip released a quiet warning sound.

“Remain close,” Professor Sylveran ordered.

He led them along the stone path until they reached a stream of perfectly still water. It was narrow enough to cross in one step, yet the trees reflected across its surface as though the river stretched for miles.

“This is the Reflecting River,” Professor Sylveran told them. “Its size and course change according to the needs of the forest. You will approach one at a time, kneel, and place both hands beneath the surface. Keep them there until your reflection looks back at you.”

Parker frowned as he studied his image in the water. “Doesn’t a reflection always look back?”

Professor Sylveran’s stern expression loosened by the smallest degree. “You will understand the difference when your turn comes.”

He selected a nervous girl from the front of the line. She knelt beside the stream and lowered her hands into the water. Ripples spread outward, distorting her reflection. A few seconds later, the image became perfectly clear.

The reflected girl smiled even though the real student had not.

A long sigh moved through the forest. Leaves rustled across hundreds of trees, and one of the blue flames above the path changed to silver.

“You are recognized,” Professor Sylveran declared. “Cross the stream and wait on the other side.”

The remaining students completed the ritual one by one. Some reflections smiled, while others raised a hand or nodded solemnly before the forest accepted them.

When Geoffrey placed his hands into the river, Snowbird landed beside him. His reflection eventually lifted one hand from beneath the water and pressed its palm against Geoffrey’s. Silver light traveled across the stream before disappearing between the trees.

Theo went next. Mica pushed her face against the door of her carrier as he knelt, watching until his reflection opened a book that did not exist above the water. Harper’s reflection appeared with enormous wings stretching from her shoulders, while Parker’s held a small glowing creature protectively between both hands.

Daryan approached when Professor Sylveran called his name.

He knelt at the edge and lowered both hands beneath the surface. The water was cold enough to make his fingers ache. His own face stared back at him, one blue eye and one green looking strangely bright against the darkness.

Nothing happened.

Daryan waited. He became increasingly aware of the other students standing behind him and wondered whether the river had found something wrong with his reflection.

The reflected version of Chip suddenly spread his wings, although the real owl remained still on Daryan’s shoulder. Reflected Chip flew in a circle before landing beside Daryan’s image.

The boy beneath the water lifted both hands. A pale blue-white light appeared between his palms, flickering softly like distant lightning.

Every other reflection vanished.

For one breath, Daryan saw Ilvermorny standing behind his image. The castle’s windows glowed beneath a sky crowded with unfamiliar stars. A dark forest surrounded it, stretching into a distance that did not seem to belong to Mount Greylock.

Soft voices moved beneath the water.

“The Protector has arrived.”

Daryan’s breath caught as another whisper followed the first.

“Let the forest remember him.”

The voices overlapped, becoming too faint to separate. One final whisper reached him before the vision began to fade.

“The stars have spoken.”

The castle disappeared. Daryan’s ordinary reflection returned, staring up at him with wide, mismatched eyes.

The forest sighed more loudly than before. Silver light raced along the riverbank, and several blue flames changed color at once. Leaves trembled above the path as the sound spread farther into the trees.

Professor Sylveran watched Daryan closely. His face revealed little, but his attention remained fixed on the water for several seconds.

“You are recognized, Mr. Marsdale.”

Daryan removed his hands and crossed the stream. His fingers felt strangely warm despite the water’s coldness.

Geoffrey met him on the opposite side. “What happened? The whole river lit up.”

“I don’t know.” Daryan glanced toward the water, but it had become perfectly still again. “Did you hear anyone talking?”

Geoffrey looked toward the other students. “Professor Sylveran?”

“No. Voices under the water.”

“I didn’t hear anything.”

Before Daryan could explain, Professor Sylveran called the next student forward. The remaining rituals continued without another unusual reaction.

Once every first-year had been accepted, Professor Sylveran crossed the stream without touching it.

“The forest now recognizes you as Ilvermorny students,” he announced. “That protection does not grant permission to wander through it alone. There are boundaries beyond which the river’s acceptance will not protect you. Until you learn where they are, remain on the school grounds.”

The group continued along the path. Daryan stayed between Geoffrey and Theo, unsettled by the voices he had heard. Protector could have been part of the acceptance ritual, although no one else appeared to have received the same welcome.

He considered telling Professor Sylveran but decided he wanted to think about what had happened first. The professor had watched the river’s reaction without expressing alarm. If something dangerous had occurred, Daryan assumed he would have said so.

Conversation gradually returned as the forest became less oppressive. Harper and Parker followed nearby, discussing the shapes that had appeared in their reflections. Chip occasionally chirped at unseen creatures, but nothing approached the path.

Three boys moved closer behind Theo.

One was slightly taller than the others, with pale blond hair combed neatly away from his face. His robes appeared new and unusually expensive, with silver stitching around the cuffs. He looked Theo over before allowing a faint sneer to touch his mouth.

“I heard your father is a No-Maj.”

Theo’s shoulders stiffened, but he continued walking. Mica shifted inside her carrier, responding to the sudden tension in his grip.

The second boy laughed. “Maybe he can’t hear you, Riven.”

“I heard him,” Theo answered. His voice was quiet, but it did not shake.

Riven Bower moved alongside him. “Your sister managed to get into Pukwudgie, but that doesn’t mean you belong here. You probably don’t have an ounce of magic in your body. You’re only here because you followed her through the door.”

Color rose across Theo’s face. “I received the same letter you did.”

“Maybe the school made a mistake.”

Daryan stopped and turned around. Anger pushed aside his concern about the river.

“If Theo only has one ounce of magic, that’s still more than your entire family put together.”

Geoffrey covered a surprised laugh with one hand. Behind them, Harper’s eyebrows rose approvingly while Parker tried to keep his expression neutral.

Riven’s face hardened. “Who asked you?”

“No one. You were talking loudly enough for the whole forest.”

“Enough!” Professor Sylveran’s voice cracked between the trees.

Every student stopped.

The professor turned and fixed his gaze on the boys. The disappointment in his expression was somehow more unsettling than anger.

“Mr. Bower and Mr. Marsdale, you have been students of Ilvermorny for less than ten minutes. Do not make either of your names memorable for the wrong reason.”

Riven looked down. “Yes, Professor.”

Daryan’s anger cooled beneath the professor’s stare. “Yes, sir.”

Professor Sylveran’s gaze moved to Theo. “Mr. Vega, your Ilvermorny letter was not issued as a favor to your sister. You are here because the school detected your magic and judged you eligible for admission. No student walking this path has the authority to question that.”

Theo’s mouth parted with surprise before he nodded. “Thank you, Professor.”

“If the subject arises again, bring it to a member of the faculty. Do not allow your classmates to fight battles you are capable of addressing yourself.”

“Yes, Professor.”

Professor Sylveran resumed walking. Riven returned to his friends without another word.

Geoffrey leaned toward Daryan. Amusement remained around his eyes even as he kept his voice low. “You could have waited until we reached the school before earning a warning.”

“I didn’t plan it.”

“That is generally how warnings happen.”

Parker moved closer from behind them. “For what it’s worth, your answer was effective.”

Theo gave Daryan a grateful look. His embarrassment had not entirely faded, but some of the tension left his shoulders. “Thank you. I could have answered him myself, though.”

“I know,” Daryan said. “I just didn’t want you to have to do it alone.”

Theo considered him for a moment before a small smile appeared. “Then next time, leave enough of him for me to answer.”

The path climbed gradually, winding between trees and exposed sections of dark stone. The air became cooler, while the quiet vibration Daryan had felt near the Reflecting River grew steadily stronger.

At first, he mistook it for the zeppelin’s distant engines. The sensation continued after the airship disappeared behind the mountain. It traveled through the ground and into his shoes, humming through his body like a note too deep to hear.

His wand responded inside his robe. The phoenix feather core released a faint chiming vibration against his side.

The path rounded one final bend.

Ilvermorny Castle rose before them.

The first-years stopped together as astonished gasps moved through the group. The castle stretched across the summit of Mount Greylock, larger than anything Daryan had imagined. Granite walls rose from the mountain as though they had grown directly from the stone. Towers of different heights reached into the darkening sky, connected by enclosed bridges and narrow walkways. Hundreds of windows glowed with warm golden light.

Blue-and-cranberry banners hung from the battlements. The Gordian Knot appeared across them in gold, its endless loops slowly weaving through one another.

Broad terraces descended along the mountainside, containing gardens, courtyards, greenhouses, and training grounds. Waterfalls poured from channels built into the stone before disappearing into the forest below. High above, flocks of owls circled the towers and entered openings beneath the rooftops.

The castle did not merely contain magic. It seemed to breathe with it.

Every stone carried the low hum Daryan had noticed on the path. The sensation moved around him and beneath his skin. It did not feel threatening. It felt as though the castle had become aware of his arrival and was quietly listening.

Chip lifted his wings and released a happy trill.

“You feel it too?” Daryan whispered.

The owl tapped his beak against Daryan’s cheek.

Professor Sylveran allowed the students to stare before turning toward the castle. A trace of pride softened the severity of his face.

“You will have years to admire it,” he said. “For now, continue to the entrance.”

The path widened into an enormous stone courtyard. Marble statues of Ilvermorny’s founders flanked the castle’s front doors. Isolt Sayre stood on one side with her wand held at her waist. James Steward stood opposite her with one hand resting against a stonemason’s hammer.

Neither statue moved, but their expressions were welcoming rather than severe. Isolt appeared prepared to guide the arriving students inside, while James looked as though he had paused in the middle of building the castle to watch them approach.

Daryan slowed between them. He had read about Isolt and James in A History of Magic, but seeing them represented at the entrance made their story feel real. A witch and a No-Maj had created the school together. Without either of them, Ilvermorny would not exist.

Several Pukwudgies crossed the courtyard carrying lanterns and directing returning students toward side entrances. They grumbled impatiently whenever anyone blocked the walkways, though none abandoned their tasks.

The enormous front doors opened without anyone touching them. Warm light spilled across the courtyard, and Professor Sylveran led the first-years inside.

The entrance hall was perfectly circular. A glass cupola rose high overhead, revealing the first evening stars above Mount Greylock. A wooden balcony wrapped around the room one floor above, crowded with returning students and members of the faculty. Hundreds of faces looked down at the new arrivals.

The stone floor remained empty except for the golden Gordian Knot set into its center and four enormous wooden carvings positioned around it.

The Horned Serpent coiled beside the far wall, a crystal gleaming faintly in its forehead. The Wampus crouched with its wooden claws extended. The Thunderbird spread its wings across nearly an entire section of the room, while the Pukwudgie stood with a poisoned arrow resting against its bow.

Daryan’s nervousness returned with enough force to tighten his stomach. He had known the school would watch the Choosing, but imagining hundreds of faces had not prepared him to stand beneath them.

Professor Sylveran directed the first-years into a line along the curved wall. Daryan remained between Geoffrey and Theo, while Harper and Parker stood nearby. Riven took his place with the two boys who had encouraged him in the forest.

Headmaster Magreth sat at the center of the balcony. He wore formal blue robes embroidered with cranberry thread and fastened with a gold Gordian Knot. Professor Vale, Professor Mercer, and the rest of the faculty occupied seats around him.

Eruman rose, and the entrance hall became silent.

“Welcome to Ilvermorny.” His voice traveled through the circular chamber without effort. “For some of you, this castle has been part of your family for generations. Others learned of its existence only weeks ago. Whatever path brought you here, you now stand together at the beginning of the same journey.”

Daryan looked up at his grandfather. Eruman’s attention moved across the entire group without lingering on him.

“Each Ilvermorny house represents qualities worthy of respect. Horned Serpent favors scholars and represents the mind. Wampus favors warriors and represents the body. Pukwudgie favors healers and represents the heart. Thunderbird favors adventurers and represents the soul.”

He gestured toward the Gordian Knot.

“One at a time, you will stand at the center of the hall. If a carving offers you a place, you will move to stand beside it with the other first-years chosen by that house. Should more than one carving respond, the choice will belong to you. Once everyone has been chosen, the first-years will lead their houses into the Great Hall.”

Eruman returned to his seat, and Professor Sylveran opened a scroll.

Students were called forward one after another. Some received immediate responses, while others waited through several uncomfortable seconds of silence.

When the Horned Serpent selected a student, the crystal in its forehead filled the chamber with light. The Wampus announced its choice with a roar that vibrated through the floor. The Thunderbird beat its wings, sending a rush of air around the hall, while the Pukwudgie raised its arrow.

“Natalia Banks,” Professor Sylveran called.

A composed girl with dark hair stepped away from the wall. She carried herself with confidence, although her fingers tightened around the edge of her robe as she approached the Gordian Knot.

The Horned Serpent’s crystal began to glow.

Relief transformed Natalia’s expression. She crossed the circular hall and took her place beside the enormous carving while the returning Horned Serpents applauded from the balcony.

A tall older boy leaned over the railing with both hands cupped around his mouth.

“Well done, Nat!”

Natalia looked up. Her practiced composure broke into a broad smile when she saw him. The older boy grinned back at her, appearing prouder of her Choosing than anyone else in the entrance hall.

“Frederick Brinks,” Professor Sylveran called.

One of Riven’s friends stepped onto the Gordian Knot. The Wampus roared almost immediately, and Frederick walked toward the carving with satisfaction written across his face.

“Riven Bower.”

Riven approached the knot with complete confidence. The Wampus examined him before releasing another powerful roar. Riven smiled and crossed the hall to join Frederick beside the carving.

“Ludan Wildes.”

The third boy was also selected by Wampus. He hurried across the room to stand with his friends.

Geoffrey leaned closer to Daryan. “Bower, Wildes, and Brinks are old pure-blood families. Mom has mentioned them before.”

Daryan watched Riven exchange congratulations with his companions. “That explains why he thinks he can decide who belongs here.”

Professor Sylveran continued reading names until he reached Harper’s.

“Harper Pointe.”

Harper drew a long breath and handed Dash’s perch to Parker. Her eagerness had given way to rare uncertainty as she walked into the center of the hall.

For several seconds, none of the carvings moved.

The Thunderbird suddenly beat its enormous wings. Wind rushed through the chamber, lifting the ends of Harper’s braids.

Her face brightened. “Thunderbird.”

Applause came from the returning Thunderbirds above. Harper retrieved Dash from her brother before crossing to the wooden bird. She stood beneath its outstretched wings with her shoulders straight and excitement shining across her face.

“Parker Pointe.”

Parker placed Bramble carefully inside his satchel before stepping onto the knot. The Pukwudgie studied him, its wooden face revealing nothing, before slowly raising its arrow.

Parker looked surprised but pleased. He crossed to the Pukwudgie carving while Harper cheered from the opposite side of the room.

“Theodore Vega.”

Theo froze.

Mica meowed from inside her carrier, drawing a few quiet laughs from the balcony. Theo looked down at her and swallowed.

Daryan touched his shoulder. “She expects you to go.”

Theo’s mouth moved into an anxious smile. “She could have offered to come with me.”

He handed Mica’s carrier to Daryan before walking toward the Gordian Knot. Riven whispered something to his friends, but Professor Sylveran silenced them with a single look.

Theo stepped into the center.

The crystal in the Horned Serpent’s forehead began to glow. Its light grew steadily stronger until silver reflections moved across the glass cupola overhead.

The tension left Theo’s face. “Horned Serpent.”

Applause filled the room. Marisol cheered from the Pukwudgie section of the balcony, louder than anyone else.

Theo retrieved Mica’s carrier from Daryan and joined Natalia beside the Horned Serpent. The tortoiseshell cat stretched one paw through the opening and caught his sleeve as though ensuring he did not leave her behind again.

“Geoffrey Taylor.”

Geoffrey’s usual humor disappeared beneath a nervous glance. He handed Daryan Snowbird’s empty travel cage and approached the knot while the white owl watched from a ledge above the entrance doors.

The Horned Serpent’s crystal lit almost immediately.

Geoffrey’s shoulders relaxed. He smiled as he crossed the floor to stand with Theo and Natalia beside the wooden serpent.

Several more students were called before Professor Sylveran looked at his scroll and spoke Daryan’s name.

“Daryan Marsdale.”

Whispers moved through the balcony.

Daryan stepped away from the wall. Every face seemed to follow him during the walk to the center, and he could not stop thinking about the attention he had received throughout Hushnote. Being introduced as Eruman’s grandson had made adults curious. Here, the other students would have years to decide what they expected from him.

Chip remained unusually still on his shoulder.

Daryan reached the Gordian Knot and turned toward the carvings.

Silence filled the hall.

The black walnut wand beneath his robes began to sing.

The crystal in the Horned Serpent’s forehead ignited with brilliant white light. Before Daryan could react, the Wampus lifted its head and roared. The sound shook the balcony and caused several students to gasp.

The Thunderbird spread its wings. A powerful rush of wind swirled through the chamber, pulling at Daryan’s robes and ruffling Chip’s feathers.

The Pukwudgie raised its arrow.

All four carvings had chosen him.

For several stunned seconds, no one spoke. Then astonished conversation erupted across the balcony.

Daryan looked from one carving to another. Mind, body, heart, and soul. Scholar, warrior, healer, and adventurer. Each house had found something it recognized in him, but the decision did not feel difficult.

His gaze moved toward Geoffrey and Theo. Both waited beside the Horned Serpent, their faces filled with a mixture of excitement and disbelief.

Daryan knew where he wanted to belong.

“Horned Serpent,” he announced.

The crystal flared again, and applause thundered through the entrance hall. Daryan crossed to the carving and joined his friends. Geoffrey wrapped one arm around his shoulders, careful not to disturb Chip, while Theo continued staring at him.

“All four,” Geoffrey whispered, wonder replacing his earlier nervousness. “Every single one chose you.”

“I noticed,” Daryan murmured, struggling to decide whether he wanted to laugh or disappear behind the enormous wooden serpent.

Natalia looked at him with open curiosity, but she did not add to the attention pressing down from the balcony. Instead, she shifted slightly to give him more room beside the carving.

Daryan looked toward Eruman. His grandfather had remained seated throughout the reaction, but pride shone openly across his face.

The remaining students were chosen. Each moved to stand beside the carving of their new house until the empty floor around the Gordian Knot had become four groups of nervous and excited first-years.

When Professor Sylveran rolled up his scroll, Eruman rose and clapped his hands. A pair of doors opened along the far side of the circular chamber.

“The Choosing Ceremony is complete,” he announced. “First-years, you will lead your houses to the Great Hall. Returning students will descend from the balcony and follow behind you.”

The new Horned Serpents formed a loose group beside their carving, with Daryan, Geoffrey, Theo, and Natalia near the front. Across the hall, Harper stood with the Thunderbirds beneath the wooden bird’s wings. Parker joined the Pukwudgies, while Riven, Ludan, and Frederick gathered with Wampus.

The first-years began moving through the open doors. Behind them, the returning students descended from the wooden balcony by staircases built into the curved walls and formed a procession according to their houses.

The corridor beyond the entrance hall was wide enough for several students to walk abreast. Enchanted chandeliers floated overhead, their flames shifting between blue and gold.

Large portraits covered the stone walls, but these were not ordinary decorations. Each ornate frame bore a brass plate identifying one of Ilvermorny’s former headmasters or headmistresses, along with the years of their service.

The painted school leaders observed the procession with varying levels of interest. Some greeted returning students by name. Others compared the new class to those they had overseen decades or even centuries earlier.

One former headmistress leaned toward the neighboring frame and whispered something while looking directly at Daryan.

“He has Magreth’s eyes,” she remarked.

“Only one of them,” the wizard in the next portrait corrected as he leaned forward for a better look.

The woman adjusted her spectacles. “The green one resembles someone else.”

Daryan lowered his gaze and continued walking. He did not know who she meant, but the scrutiny made his already warm face grow hotter.

Geoffrey’s mouth twitched as he fought a smile. “You’ve confused the former headmasters.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Your eyes did.”

At the end of the corridor, above the doors to the Great Hall, hung a larger portrait in a place of honor. Isolt Sayre and James Steward stood together outside the original stone cottage that had eventually grown into Ilvermorny. Isolt wore blue robes and held her wand, while James rested both hands against a stonemason’s hammer.

As Daryan approached, Isolt stopped speaking.

Her painted gaze settled on him before moving toward the wand concealed beneath his robes. She whispered something to James.

James looked at Daryan. The founders exchanged a glance before smiling and raising their hands in greeting.

Daryan hesitated, then waved politely.

Isolt’s smile widened. She and James continued whispering as he passed beneath them.

The hum within the castle strengthened. It moved through the portraits, the chandeliers, and the stone beneath Daryan’s feet. His wand released another faint melody, answering something hidden within the walls.

The enormous Great Hall doors were carved with scenes from Ilvermorny’s history. They opened inward as the first-years approached.

Four long rows of tables extended through the vast chamber, one for each house. Hundreds of floating candles illuminated silver plates and crystal goblets. Blue-and-cranberry banners hung from stone pillars, their golden knots endlessly weaving across the fabric.

The ceiling displayed the night sky above Mount Greylock. Stars glittered across an impossible darkness, and thin clouds drifted beneath a bright moon. An owl occasionally crossed overhead, appearing to fly through the open sky before vanishing into the enchantment.

The first-years stared as they entered.

At the far end of the hall stood a raised dais with a long faculty table. It had been empty when the students crossed the threshold, but silver light flashed across the platform. Eruman and the professors appeared behind their chairs.

Daryan had no idea how they had reached the Great Hall before the procession.

The first-years separated according to their houses. Daryan, Geoffrey, Theo, and Natalia approached the Horned Serpent table while the returning students entered behind them and moved toward their usual seats.

The older boy who had cheered for Natalia hurried down the aisle as soon as she reached the table. He stepped around the bench and pulled her into a tight embrace before she had an opportunity to sit.

“You did it,” he told her, his pride visible in the warmth of his face. “I knew Horned Serpent would choose you.”

Natalia returned the hug with equal affection. “You told me not to assume anything, William.”

“I was trying to sound responsible. I never said I believed it.”

Natalia laughed and allowed him to guide her toward an open place. William moved her bag beneath the table before introducing her to several older students, taking obvious pleasure in welcoming his sister into the house.

Daryan watched them for a moment. William’s excitement reminded him of the way Marisol had cheered for Theo. Whatever differences existed among magical families, older siblings apparently behaved much the same when someone they loved joined them at Ilvermorny.

Across the hall, Harper sat among the Thunderbirds with Dash perched proudly behind her. Parker joined Marisol at the Pukwudgie table, where Bramble received almost as warm a welcome as he did. Riven, Ludan, and Frederick took their places with Wampus.

Eruman lowered himself into the center chair at the faculty table. His gaze traveled across the Horned Serpent students until it found Daryan.

The Headmaster winked.

Daryan smiled before sitting between Geoffrey and Theo. Chip hopped from his shoulder to the back of the bench and settled there, looking around the Great Hall with bright interest. Snowbird soon glided down from the rafters and landed behind Geoffrey, holding himself apart from Chip until the smaller owl shuffled closer.

Eruman raised one hand, and the conversations throughout the hall gradually faded.

“Before we begin tonight’s feast, I have one faculty announcement. Professor Marjory Tyndale has graciously agreed to teach Magical History while Professor Houst remains abroad on an extended research assignment.”

A witch seated near the end of the faculty table rose. Professor Tyndale wore deep violet robes and narrow silver spectacles. She inclined her head as the students applauded, amusement touching her face when several returning students reacted more enthusiastically than the others.

“We are grateful for her assistance,” Eruman continued. “Formal lessons will begin after tomorrow’s arrival and orientation day. Returning students are encouraged to help our newest members learn the castle. First-years are encouraged to ask for directions before attempting to enter the wrong dormitory.”

Marisol lowered her face as several nearby Pukwudgies laughed. Eruman noticed her reaction, and the slightest smile disturbed his formal expression.

“Welcome home, everyone.”

He lowered his hand.

Food appeared across all four tables. Platters of roasted meats, vegetables, fresh bread, potatoes, soups, and brightly colored desserts filled every open space. Crystal pitchers poured pumpkin juice and water without assistance.

Daryan filled his plate while Geoffrey and Theo discussed the Choosing. Older Horned Serpent students introduced themselves, welcomed the first-years, and congratulated Daryan on being selected by all four houses.

Their attention still made him nervous. Every new introduction carried the unspoken possibility that they knew who his grandfather was or expected something unusual from him. Even so, Geoffrey’s steady presence on one side and Theo’s quiet amazement on the other made the attention easier to endure.

The words from the Reflecting River remained in the back of Daryan’s mind, but the warmth and noise of the Great Hall made them feel distant. Geoffrey passed him a basket of bread while Theo studied the enchanted ceiling and wondered aloud whether it showed the real sky or merely copied it.

Before Daryan could offer an opinion, Chip leaned over his shoulder and snatched a small piece of chicken from his plate.

“Chip!”

The little owl hopped along the back of the bench with his prize. Geoffrey laughed, and even Theo abandoned his examination of the ceiling to watch Daryan attempt to retrieve his dinner without disturbing the students seated around them.

Surrounded by the noise of the feast and the easy conversation of his friends, Daryan allowed the river’s mysterious welcome to wait. There would be plenty of time to think about it after he had eaten.

 

 

Chapter 8

Secrets in the Stone

Chip’s head kept sinking toward Daryan’s shoulder as the welcoming feast drew to a close. Each time the little owl appeared ready to fall asleep, the noise of someone laughing or reaching for a final dessert startled him awake again.

Daryan understood the struggle. The journey aboard the zeppelin had taken most of the day, and the excitement of reaching Ilvermorny had left him more exhausted than he expected. Even so, he found it difficult to tear his attention away from the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall. Night had settled over Mount Greylock during dinner, leaving thousands of stars scattered across the darkness above them. Several constellations moved slowly among them, their glittering shapes wandering from their usual places as if searching for somewhere more comfortable to rest.

The plates and serving dishes disappeared after the final desserts had been eaten. Headmaster Magreth rose from his chair at the center of the faculty table, and the conversations throughout the Great Hall gradually faded.

“I hope each of you has enjoyed your first evening at Ilvermorny,” Eruman announced. “Returning students are reminded that tomorrow has been reserved for reacquainting yourselves with the school and preparing for the beginning of lessons. First-years should use the day to learn their surroundings, review their schedules, and become familiar with the expectations of their houses.”

Daryan looked toward the raised platform. His grandfather appeared every bit the distinguished headmaster in his formal robes. There was no trace of the playful man who had purchased an owl for him despite knowing Aryanna might object. Here, Eruman Magreth spoke to an entire school, and every student in the room listened.

“All students are expected to attend meals at their appointed times,” Eruman continued. “The forest remains forbidden without the direct supervision of a professor. The northern tower is closed while repairs are underway, and any student discovered attempting to enter it will spend several Saturdays assisting the Pukwudgies with whatever unpleasant work they decide requires attention.”

Several older students laughed nervously.

Eruman’s expression remained composed. “That was not intended as a challenge.”

This time, even a few professors smiled.

“Your prefects will now escort you to your common rooms. First-years, remain at your house tables until your prefects gather you. Welcome once again to Ilvermorny. May this year bring knowledge, courage, healing, and strength to us all.”

The Great Hall filled with noise as benches scraped across the floor and students began standing. Across the room, Harper and Parker disappeared among their respective houses. Daryan stayed beside Geoffrey and Theo while the older Horned Serpents gathered their belongings.

Natalia Banks remained nearby with her brother. William had one arm around her shoulders as he introduced her to several students, and she appeared more relaxed than she had during the Choosing Ceremony. A sleek black cat with a small white patch beneath her chin wound around William’s ankles before moving to inspect Natalia.

“This is Vesper,” Natalia explained as the cat rose on her hind legs and placed her front paws against Natalia’s robes. “She belongs to me, although she occasionally pretends William is more interesting.”

“Only because I give her better treats,” William told her.

Vesper accepted the scratch he offered beneath her chin, but she returned to Natalia the moment he stopped. William laughed and helped his sister secure the cat’s carrier before joining the other older students.

Chip remained perched on Daryan’s shoulder, his small talons gripping the blue fabric of Daryan’s robes. Snowbird had claimed the back of the bench behind Geoffrey, where he stood with his eyes half closed and his feathers arranged perfectly around him.

A tall girl with straight black hair and a silver prefect’s badge pinned beneath her Gordian Knot clasp raised one hand.

“First-year Horned Serpents, gather around me, please. Stay together until we reach the common room.”

“That’s Sabine Holloway,” Geoffrey whispered as they joined the other first-years. “I heard one of the older students say she’s a sixth-year.”

Sabine waited until all eight new Horned Serpents had gathered around her. A broad-shouldered boy with copper-colored hair took position at the back of the group, while William gave Natalia a final hug and promised to meet her in the common room.

“Our common room is in the eastern section of the castle,” Sabine explained. “It is not especially difficult to reach once you know the route, but the corridors can be confusing during your first few days. If you become lost, ask a portrait, ghost, professor, or older student for help. Do not enter any corridor marked as restricted. Some of those restrictions exist for reasons you do not want demonstrated.”

She turned and led them from the Great Hall.

The wide corridor outside was quieter than it had been during the procession. Portraits of Ilvermorny’s former headmasters and headmistresses watched the students depart beneath floating chandeliers. Some called goodnight to people they recognized, while others resumed conversations that had apparently begun before the feast.

Daryan looked toward the portrait of Isolt Sayre and James Steward above the Great Hall doors. Both founders were seated outside their stone cottage now. James appeared to be repairing the wooden handle of his hammer, while Isolt read from a large book beside him. She glanced up as Daryan passed and offered him a small smile before returning to the page.

They followed Sabine through another corridor lined with suits of armor. The metal heads turned to follow the first-years, and one suit raised a gauntleted hand in greeting. When Daryan cautiously waved back, the armor gave him an enthusiastic salute and nearly knocked off its own helmet.

Geoffrey muffled a laugh. “I don’t think it does that very often.”

The armor caught its helmet and pushed it back into place before pointing an accusing finger at Geoffrey.

“I think you offended it,” Daryan whispered.

“I didn’t say it was bad.”

The armor folded its arms and turned toward the wall.

Several corridors later, Sabine stopped before a carved wooden door with no visible handle. A silver serpent wound across its surface, its scales formed from hundreds of tiny pieces of crystal.

The serpent lifted its head and regarded Sabine with glowing blue eyes.

“What belongs to one mind, grows when shared, and cannot be emptied by giving?” it asked.

Sabine’s answer came without hesitation. “Knowledge.”

The crystal serpent uncoiled, and the door opened inward.

“The question changes each time the door closes,” she told the first-years. “You may answer together. If none of you knows the solution, another Horned Serpent will usually come along eventually. The door sometimes accepts a clever alternative, but I would not recommend arguing with it. It remembers grudges.”

Daryan entered the common room and stopped in amazement.

The room was enormous and circular, with a high domed ceiling painted to resemble a night sky. Constellations shifted across it in slow patterns, though none moved as freely as those above the Great Hall. Long shelves filled with books followed the curve of the walls, broken only by tall arched windows overlooking the mountains surrounding Ilvermorny.

Blue-and-cranberry rugs covered the polished wooden floor. Comfortable chairs and sofas had been arranged around several fireplaces, while large tables offered places for students to read or study. Brass lamps floated above the tables, lowering themselves whenever someone opened a book beneath them.

A crystal statue of a Horned Serpent rose from a fountain at the center of the room. Water flowed silently from its open mouth into a shallow basin, glowing whenever it passed over the silver scales carved into the stone.

“This is incredible,” Theo whispered. The exhaustion disappeared from his face as he turned to take in the shelves, tables, and painted constellations.

Several older students were already settling into their favorite places. A girl sat near one of the windows with a book floating before her, its pages turning without the help of her hands. Two boys played a game involving silver pieces that transformed into tiny animals whenever they captured one another. At a nearby table, a group of students compared class schedules while Vesper explored beneath their chairs.

Sabine allowed the first-years a moment to look around before directing their attention toward two staircases on opposite sides of the common room.

“The staircase on the left leads to the girls’ dormitories, while the staircase on the right leads to the boys’ dormitories. Rooms are arranged by year, with four or five students assigned to each. You are not permitted inside another year’s dormitory unless invited by someone assigned to that room.”

She pointed toward a notice board beside the fountain.

“Announcements, schedules, house events, and messages from professors will appear there. Check it every morning. Breakfast begins at seven and continues until nine. Tomorrow is your orientation day, and formal lessons begin the following morning. Your class schedules have been placed on your beds.”

One of the girls raised her hand. “What happens if we oversleep?”

“You miss breakfast.”

Alarm crossed the girl’s face.

“Students who make a habit of oversleeping may also discover that the curtains around their beds have learned to scream,” Sabine added. “I recommend an alarm clock.”

After answering several questions about bathrooms, laundry, and the common-room library, she dismissed them. Daryan followed Geoffrey and Theo toward the boys’ staircase.

They climbed two floors before finding a polished brass sign marked FIRST-YEARS. A short corridor contained two doors, each bearing the names of the students assigned to the room.

Daryan found his name on the first.

DARYAN MARSDALE
GEOFFREY TAYLOR
THEODORE VEGA
IVAN KILJOY

“We’re together!” Geoffrey exclaimed, his exhaustion giving way to an immediate grin.

Relief loosened Theo’s shoulders. “Thank goodness. I was worried I would be placed in a room where I didn’t know anyone.”

Geoffrey opened the door, and the three boys stepped inside.

Four beds stood against the walls, each surrounded by blue curtains embroidered with curling silver serpents. A school trunk rested at the foot of every bed. Daryan immediately recognized his own, with Chip’s empty cage secured on top. Geoffrey’s trunk occupied the bed beside his, while Theo’s stood across the room.

Their schedules waited on the folded blankets, each piece of parchment secured with a blue ribbon.

The fourth student was already unpacking. He had pale skin, dark blond hair, and round spectacles. He knelt beside an open trunk with a thick wool sweater in both hands, while a tiny brown-and-white owl watched from the post of the nearest bed.

The boy looked up when they entered. His expression remained calm, although his eyes moved across the three newcomers as if matching them to the names on the door.

“Hello. I suppose you are Marsdale, Taylor, and Vega.”

“I’m Daryan,” Daryan said as he pointed to his friends. “That’s Geoffrey, and that’s Theo.”

“Ivan Kiljoy.” The boy placed the sweater inside a drawer built beneath his bed before standing. His voice carried a slight accent Daryan could not place. “My family lives outside Ottawa. My mother packed enough winter clothing to survive an expedition to the North Pole. I tried explaining that the school provides blankets, but she remained unconvinced.”

“My mom packed three jars of ointment for insect bites,” Theo told him. “I don’t know what sort of insects she thinks live inside a castle.”

Ivan considered the question with complete seriousness. “The sort that attend magical school.”

Theo stared at him until a small smile disturbed Ivan’s expression.

Daryan laughed, and some of the nervousness disappeared from the room.

Ivan gestured toward the owl watching them. She was small enough to fit comfortably in one hand, with pale markings around sharp golden eyes.

“That is Juniper. She dislikes crowds, loud noises, and anyone who touches my books without permission.”

Juniper blinked once, apparently satisfied with his description.

Chip chirped and flew from Daryan’s shoulder toward her. Juniper immediately retreated behind Ivan’s bed curtain, leaving Chip perched alone on the post.

“She may need time,” Ivan observed.

“Chip has never understood that,” Daryan said.

Geoffrey opened Snowbird’s cage. The snowy owl stepped out with quiet dignity and flew to the top of the wardrobe, where he surveyed the room as if judging whether it met his standards.

Chip chirped at him.

Snowbird turned his head away.

“He’s happy to see you too,” Geoffrey assured Chip.

The boys spent the next several minutes unpacking. Their clothes vanished into the drawers when placed on top of their beds, while their books arranged themselves alphabetically on the shelves beside the door. Daryan set Chip’s cage on a stand near the window, although the tiny owl showed no interest in using it.

When Daryan crossed the room to retrieve his pajamas, he noticed Ivan watching him. The Canadian boy immediately looked toward the schedules as though he had been caught doing something impolite.

“What?” Daryan asked.

Ivan adjusted his spectacles. “May I ask you a question without offending you?”

“That depends on the question.”

“Have your eyes always been different colors?”

Daryan felt his shoulders tighten before he could stop them. He had heard the question many times, although the curiosity in Ivan’s voice lacked the mocking tone he had learned to expect from some children in Nashville.

“Yes. I was born that way. It’s called heterochromia.”

Ivan looked between Daryan’s blue eye and his green one. “I have only read about it. I was going to say that it looks rather impressive.”

“It does,” Theo agreed. He hesitated before admitting, “I noticed when we met in Hushnote, but Marisol told me that staring at someone’s face while trying to decide whether to ask about it was probably rude.”

“She was right,” Geoffrey said.

Theo looked mildly offended. “I didn’t stare.”

“You walked into a display of quills.”

“That could have happened for several reasons.”

Daryan smiled despite himself. “Some kids back home used to make fun of them. Geoffrey never did.”

“They’re eyes,” Geoffrey replied with a small shrug. “They work. They just don’t match.”

Ivan nodded as though this was the most sensible explanation available. “Matching is overrated.”

Juniper emerged from behind the curtain and returned to her bedpost. Chip cautiously hopped closer, stopping before she felt the need to retreat again.

Once everything had been put away, Daryan changed into his pajamas and climbed into bed. The mattress shifted beneath him, becoming softer until it seemed to fit his body perfectly. He drew the curtains but left a small opening for Chip.

The other boys continued talking in low voices. Ivan told them that his mother had been a Horned Serpent, while his father had attended a smaller magical academy in northern Canada. Theo spoke about Marisol and how excited she had been when he received his letter. Geoffrey described the rocket that had burst from his envelope, insisting it had nearly frightened Emily to death.

Daryan listened until their voices began fading into the background. Eventually, the lamps dimmed on their own, and the dormitory fell silent except for the occasional rustle of feathers and someone shifting beneath the blankets.

Sleep came quickly.

Daryan dreamed that he was walking through Ilvermorny alone.

The corridors were darker than he remembered. None of the torches were lit, and every portrait frame held a black, empty canvas. His footsteps echoed through the castle, although he could not remember where he was going or why he had left his bed.

Something was calling him.

He followed the sound through corridor after corridor, descending staircases he did not recognize. The air grew colder as he traveled deeper into the castle. A low whisper moved through the stone walls, too faint for him to understand but too deliberate to be the wind.

A narrow room waited at the bottom of the final staircase. It had no windows and only one door.

A cabinet stood against the far wall.

It was tall and made from nearly black wood, with tarnished brass hinges and two narrow doors. Strange markings had been carved around its edges. Daryan could not read them, but they appeared to change whenever he looked away.

Fragments of the conversation he had overheard in Hushnote returned to him. He remembered two men speaking in low voices, one demanding to know whether the cabinet had arrived and the other insisting that it was already inside Ilvermorny.

Daryan approached it even though every instinct warned him to turn around. The whispering grew louder as he reached for the handles.

The doors refused to move.

He tightened his grip and pulled until his arms began to ache. One foot pressed against the bottom of the cabinet as he used his weight to force it open.

Both doors suddenly flew outward.

Darkness poured from inside.

It was not an ordinary absence of light. It moved like thick smoke, spreading across the floor before twisting around Daryan’s ankles. He tried to step back, but the darkness climbed his legs and tightened around his waist.

Something shifted inside the cabinet.

A pair of pale eyes opened within the blackness.

Daryan awoke with a sharp gasp.

Morning light shone through the opening in his curtains. He remained beneath his blankets as his heartbeat pounded against his ribs. The familiar dormitory slowly returned around him. Geoffrey snored softly in the next bed, and someone moved near the window.

Chip pushed through the curtains and landed on Daryan’s chest. The little owl pecked his chin before releasing an impatient chirp.

“I’m awake,” Daryan whispered.

The dream still felt unpleasantly real, but the warmth of Chip’s feathers helped chase away the cold of the imagined corridor. Daryan sat up and looked around the dormitory.

Ivan was already dressed and attempting to flatten his hair with water. Juniper watched from inside the hood of his robe, her small face barely visible between the folds. Theo remained completely hidden beneath his blankets, while Geoffrey slept with one arm hanging over the side of his bed.

“What time is it?” Daryan asked.

“Nearly eight,” Ivan answered. He examined his reflection in the window and abandoned his unsuccessful attempt to control his hair. “I have concluded that it intends to resist.”

Daryan threw back his blankets. “Geoffrey! Theo! We’re going to miss breakfast!”

The warning worked better than any alarm clock.

Within fifteen minutes, all four boys were dressed and hurrying down the staircase. They passed Sabine in the common room, and she asked whether they had brought their schedules.

The boys stopped together.

None of them had noticed the folded parchment on their beds after unpacking.

Sabine pointed silently toward the staircase.

They ran back upstairs.

The Great Hall was already crowded when they arrived. Morning sunlight filled the enchanted ceiling, and hundreds of birds that were not actually present flew through the illusion before disappearing into banks of white clouds. Plates of eggs, bacon, sausage, biscuits, fruit, oatmeal, and fried potatoes covered the four house tables.

Daryan, Geoffrey, Theo, and Ivan found seats together at the Horned Serpent table. Theo immediately began filling his plate, while Geoffrey unfolded his schedule beside his breakfast.

“We have Charms first tomorrow,” Geoffrey announced. He traced the lines with one finger. “Then Magical History before lunch.”

Daryan checked his own schedule. “Potions after lunch and Transfiguration after that.”

“You sound pleased about Transfiguration,” Ivan observed as he cut into his eggs.

“I’ve been reading the book all summer.”

Ivan paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. “All summer?”

“Since he received his letter,” Geoffrey explained. “That was only a few weeks ago.”

Ivan lowered his fork. “You only learned about magic a few weeks ago?”

Daryan nodded. “My parents thought I would probably be a Squib.”

Theo looked across the table. “Both of them?”

“My father is a Squib, and my mother was raised outside the magical world. Neither of them expected me to have magic.”

“And then your letter arrived,” Ivan said.

“With a rocket,” Daryan added.

Ivan considered this information. “Canadian letters whistle until someone opens them. My father threw mine into the yard because he thought the noise was coming from a teakettle.”

Geoffrey laughed hard enough to nearly spill his pumpkin juice.

After breakfast, the four boys decided to explore. They had an entire day before formal lessons began, and Daryan wanted to learn as much as possible before the corridors filled with students hurrying between classes.

They began in the gallery outside the Great Hall. Daylight illuminated the portraits of Ilvermorny’s former headmasters and headmistresses, revealing details that had been difficult to see the previous evening. Some wore clothing from centuries earlier, while others appeared almost modern.

One former headmaster offered the boys directions to the library. He sent them down two corridors, through an archway, and past a staircase decorated with brass moons. Halfway through the explanation, he became distracted by an argument in the neighboring portrait and left his frame to settle it.

A transparent man wearing a waistcoat floated through the wall behind them.

“Lost already?” the ghost asked.

“We’re exploring,” Geoffrey corrected him.

The ghost folded his translucent hands behind his back. “People who are lost usually call it exploring.”

He introduced himself as Bartholomew Pike and claimed to have taught at Ilvermorny more than a century earlier, although he refused to identify the subject.

“It is more entertaining to let students guess,” he explained. “I will give you one clue. It was not Divination, and anyone who suggests otherwise may find himself directed toward a staircase that no longer exists.”

Despite his complaints, Bartholomew showed them the shortest route to the library.

The Ilvermorny library occupied three floors connected by narrow spiral staircases. Books filled towering shelves, and enchanted ladders rolled silently along brass rails. Several volumes flapped between the shelves like birds, while others shuffled into neat stacks on the tables. A stern librarian warned the boys that any book secured with a red chain required permission from a professor.

Daryan could have remained there for the rest of the day, but Geoffrey eventually caught his sleeve and pulled him away from a shelf devoted to magical architecture.

“You already have books in the common room,” Geoffrey reminded him.

“Those aren’t these books.”

“They still have words in them.”

“That doesn’t make them the same.”

Ivan glanced toward Theo. “He has a reasonable argument.”

“Do not encourage him,” Geoffrey said. “We’ll never see the rest of the castle.”

They visited the western courtyard next. Older students sat beneath trees with their friends, enjoying the last free day before lessons began. Some practiced harmless magic beneath the supervision of a professor.

Daryan watched a girl point her wand toward the sky and send a stream of shining bubbles floating above the courtyard. They changed colors as they drifted, and several younger children chased them across the grass.

The girl ended the charm with a small turn of her wrist before returning her wand to her pocket.

Daryan followed the final bubble until it disappeared against the sunlight. He wondered whether the charm appeared in Chadwick’s Charms.

Harper and Parker found them near the fountain in the middle of the courtyard. Harper wore a silver Thunderbird clasp on her robes, while Parker proudly displayed the arrow-shaped Pukwudgie emblem stitched into his scarf. Dash remained on Harper’s shoulder, and Bramble occupied a wide pocket near Parker’s waist.

“Have you seen the flying field?” Harper asked. Excitement made it difficult for her to remain still. “Some of the older students are practicing.”

They followed the twins to an open field behind the castle, where enchanted hoops floated at different heights. Students raced on broomsticks beneath the watchful eye of Professor Yelton. His sharp whistle carried across the grounds whenever someone flew too close to another student.

Daryan immediately thought of the Arrowmark Next-Gen he had seen in Hushnote Quarter. One of the riders shot past them fast enough to send his hair flying away from his forehead.

“I’m getting a broom,” Geoffrey declared.

“With what money?” Daryan asked.

“I’ll work that out later.”

“First-years cannot bring personal broomsticks without permission,” Theo reminded him.

“I’ll work that out too.”

Harper watched the riders curve around the highest hoop. Determination narrowed her eyes as she followed their movements. “I want to learn how to turn like that.”

Parker studied the speed of the nearest broom. “I would prefer to learn how to stop first.”

The group continued exploring until lunchtime. Along the way, they found the infirmary, several classrooms, a music room filled with instruments that practiced without musicians, and a long passage where the floor tiles sang whenever anyone stepped on them.

Ivan discovered that he could play the beginning of a Canadian folk song by moving between the correct tiles. His calm concentration gradually gave way to frustration when the final note remained out of reach. He jumped toward it and nearly collided with a suit of armor.

The armor caught Ivan by the shoulders, turned him toward the correct tile, and gave him a helpful push.

The final note rang through the corridor.

Ivan straightened his spectacles and inclined his head toward the armor. “Thank you.”

The suit bowed.

Not every part of the school was as welcoming. A narrow ghost wearing heavy chains appeared near the Potions corridor and ordered them to leave before they disturbed the sleeping cauldrons.

Geoffrey looked past him toward the closed classroom door. “Do cauldrons actually sleep?”

The ghost glared at him and sank through the floor without answering.

They also found a corridor guarded by two Pukwudgies. The short, gray-faced creatures stood with their arms crossed and their poisoned arrows within easy reach.

“Closed,” one of them said.

“We weren’t going inside,” Daryan assured him.

“Good.”

Geoffrey leaned slightly to one side as if he might see past them. “What’s down there?”

“Nothing.”

The other Pukwudgie displayed a row of pointed teeth. “Nothing that likes children.”

Parker took one careful step backward. “We should continue exploring somewhere else.”

No one argued with him.

Daryan’s feet ached by the middle of the afternoon. Geoffrey, Theo, and Ivan wanted to visit the owlery, but Daryan chose to return to the Horned Serpent common room. Chip had spent most of the day flying outside with Snowbird, and Daryan doubted the tiny owl needed him nearby.

He answered the crystal serpent’s question with help from a fourth-year student and entered the common room. Only a handful of people were inside. Daryan selected a chair beside one of the tall windows and opened Chadwick’s Charms, Volume I.

He reviewed the chapter on wand movements before reading about the principles of levitation. Professor Vale would be teaching Charms in the morning, and Eruman had encouraged him to become familiar with the material before lessons began.

After finishing two chapters, Daryan changed to Magical Drafts and Potions. The opening section stressed the importance of measuring ingredients and never adding anything without understanding how it might react. A list of common first-year accidents included melted cauldrons, temporary hair loss, purple skin, uncontrollable sneezing, and the unexpected growth of feathers.

Daryan made a mental note to listen carefully to Professor Mercer.

Students came and went around him as he read. Magic seemed to be happening everywhere. One boy used his wand to tie his shoes without bending down. A girl summoned a forgotten book from across the room. Two older students enchanted a paper bird to carry messages between them.

Only a few weeks earlier, Daryan had not known any of this existed. Now he sat inside a magical castle with a wand in his pocket and an owl who appeared to believe Daryan belonged to him.

His gaze moved toward the empty space beside the chair, and he remembered the bubbles in the courtyard.

Daryan closed his book and glanced around. No one appeared to be paying attention to him. He removed his wand and held it carefully. The polished black walnut felt warm beneath his fingers.

He pictured the stream of bubbles floating from the older girl’s wand. He remembered their shimmering colors and the small turn of her wrist when she ended the charm. He did not know the incantation, but he could imagine exactly what he wanted his wand to create.

“Bubbles,” Daryan whispered as he copied the movement he had seen.

Nothing happened at first. Then a single bubble appeared at the tip of his wand.

It floated upward, followed by another and then five more. Within seconds, a stream of shining bubbles poured into the common room. They drifted around Daryan’s chair, reflecting the blue-and-cranberry colors surrounding him.

Delight spread across his face.

He had not known the proper incantation or found the charm in his book. He had simply pictured the result, repeated the movement, and asked his wand to respond.

One bubble landed on the open page of his Potions book and refused to pop.

“That’s enough,” Daryan whispered, repeating the small turn of the older girl’s wrist.

The stream stopped.

Daryan lowered his wand and watched the bubbles drift around him. He considered finding Geoffrey and the others, but uncertainty kept him in the chair. Eruman had restricted him to three simple charms before reaching school. Those limitations no longer applied inside Ilvermorny, but Daryan did not know whether first-years were permitted to experiment before receiving instruction.

He opened Chadwick’s Charms and searched the index. There were several references to bubble-producing charms, but none appeared in the early chapters.

Daryan returned his wand to his pocket. He would ask Professor Vale about the spell after he understood what he had done. Until then, he decided not to attempt it again.

The remaining bubbles floated toward the domed ceiling and disappeared one by one among the painted stars.

The common-room door opened a short time later, and Geoffrey, Theo, and Ivan entered with Chip and Snowbird flying behind them. Juniper rode inside Ivan’s hood with only her face visible.

Snowbird returned to Geoffrey’s shoulder with practiced dignity. Chip circled the fountain twice before landing on Daryan’s head.

“There you are.” Relief crossed Geoffrey’s face before he covered it with mild annoyance. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“I told you he would be reading,” Theo said with the satisfaction of someone whose prediction had been proven correct.

Ivan nodded toward the windows, where the afternoon light had begun to fade. “It is nearly time for dinner.”

Daryan marked his place in the Potions book and stood. Chip climbed from his head to his shoulder, chirping as though they had been separated for several weeks instead of a few hours.

The four boys joined the other Horned Serpents heading toward the Great Hall. Dinner included roasted chicken, potatoes covered in butter and herbs, bowls of salad, fresh rolls, and more desserts than Daryan could name.

Ivan examined the maple custard suspiciously before taking a careful bite.

“This is not authentic Canadian maple custard,” he decided.

Geoffrey glanced at the two empty dishes beside Ivan’s plate. “You’ve eaten three servings.”

“I needed sufficient evidence.”

Theo tried the custard and began explaining that three samples were not enough to establish a reliable conclusion. Geoffrey listened for nearly a minute before sliding the final dish out of their reach.

As Daryan laughed with them, the nightmare returned briefly to his thoughts. He remembered the cabinet doors opening and the pale eyes waiting inside the darkness, but he kept the memory to himself. It had been one dream after an exhausting day, shaped by the conversation he had overheard in Hushnote and the unfamiliar corridors of the castle.

Geoffrey passed him a fresh roll while Ivan attempted to recover the confiscated custard without appearing interested in it. Daryan pushed the dream aside and joined their argument over whether eating a fourth serving would improve Ivan’s research or merely make him sick before their first lesson.

 

 

Chapter 9

Intention and Control

Daryan awakened before the dormitory curtains had an opportunity to scream at him.

He remained beneath the blankets for several moments, staring through the narrow opening in the blue fabric surrounding his bed. Pale morning light entered through the windows across the room, and birds called somewhere beyond the castle walls. Chip was already perched on the bedpost, preening the feathers beneath one of his wings.

For a moment, Daryan forgot where he was. Then he noticed the silver serpents embroidered across the curtains and remembered that he was lying in a dormitory inside Ilvermorny.

His first official day of magical lessons had arrived.

Daryan slipped out of bed and reached for the folded schedule on his bedside table. He had read it so many times during the orientation day that he no longer needed to look, but his eyes moved down the list anyway.

Charms. Magical History. Potions. Transfiguration.

Transfiguration was the class he anticipated most, but the prospect of facing four professors made his stomach tighten. Professor Vale and Professor Mercer had both met him in Hushnote Quarter. They knew Eruman was his grandfather and had witnessed the pride with which the Headmaster introduced him.

Daryan wondered whether Eruman had spoken about him after the family left Hushnote. Professor Vale might expect him to perform advanced charms on his first day. Professor Mercer might assume he had inherited some remarkable talent for potions. Neither expectation would be fair, but fairness did not always prevent people from forming opinions.

Eruman Magreth was an accomplished wizard and the Headmaster of Ilvermorny. Daryan had only known he was a wizard for a few weeks.

He returned the schedule to the table and began dressing. As he fastened his robes, Ivan emerged from behind his curtains and stared down at the floor beside his bed.

“One of my shoes has moved,” Ivan announced.

Daryan glanced over. “Where was it?”

“Beside the other one. I arrange things in pairs so that I do not have to search for them.”

Juniper watched him from the top of his trunk, offering no assistance. Ivan checked beneath the bed before noticing the missing shoe wedged between the trunk and the wall.

He retrieved it and examined Juniper. “Did you move this?”

The tiny owl blinked at him.

“That is not a denial.”

Geoffrey pulled open his curtains and looked blearily toward them. His hair stuck out in several directions, while Snowbird remained asleep on top of the wardrobe.

“What happened?”

“Ivan is interrogating his owl,” Daryan explained.

“She refuses to cooperate.”

Theo appeared from behind his curtains and pushed his spectacles into place. “Perhaps she wants legal representation.”

Ivan considered the suggestion before putting on his shoe. “She can arrange it after breakfast.”

The four boys dressed and gathered their books. Professor Vale and Professor Tyndale had instructed the first-years to bring only their wands, parchment, ink, and the appropriate textbooks. Potions required considerably more equipment, but the boys planned to return to the common room after Magical History to collect it.

Chip hopped onto Daryan’s shoulder as they prepared to leave.

“You can’t come to Charms,” Daryan told him.

Chip responded with a questioning chirp.

“You would probably chase anything we made fly.”

The little owl fluffed his feathers in apparent offense. Daryan carried him downstairs and left him near the common-room windows, where several owls belonging to other students had already gathered. Snowbird joined them, maintaining a dignified distance from the noisier birds. Juniper remained inside Ivan’s hood, but he convinced her to stay behind by placing three owl pellets beside his books.

Once the animals were settled, the boys followed the other Horned Serpents toward the Great Hall.

Breakfast was already underway. Sunlight filled the enchanted ceiling, and long streaks of pink and gold stretched across the illusion of the morning sky. Platters of eggs, sausage, bacon, biscuits, fruit, and fried potatoes covered the house tables.

Daryan sat between Geoffrey and Theo while Ivan took the place across from them. Natalia Banks was farther along the table with several first-year girls, listening as her brother explained how to reach one of the classrooms without using a staircase that occasionally changed direction.

Daryan glanced toward the faculty table.

Professor Vale was speaking with Professor Mercer near the center of the raised platform. Her long braids were threaded with silver, and she wore the emerald robes Daryan remembered from Hushnote. Professor Mercer listened with his usual intense expression, his amber spectacles catching the light whenever he turned his head.

Eruman sat in the Headmaster’s chair between two other professors. He read a piece of parchment while drinking from a steaming cup. Daryan almost raised his hand to attract his attention before remembering where they were. Eruman had promised they would find time for each other, but during school hours, Daryan was one of hundreds of students under his care.

He returned his attention to breakfast.

“You look nervous,” Geoffrey observed.

“I’m not nervous.”

“You’ve been moving the same piece of egg around your plate for almost a minute.”

Daryan ate it to prove him wrong.

Theo looked toward the faculty table before lowering his voice. “What if Professor Vale asks us to perform something more difficult than Lumos?”

“Then we learn it with everyone else,” Geoffrey replied.

“You make that sound simple.”

“It probably won’t be.”

Theo frowned. “You are not very good at reassurance.”

Ivan spread raspberry preserves across a biscuit with careful, even strokes. “My mother says the first lesson in any magical class consists mostly of rules and an explanation of how many ways the subject can injure you.”

“That is worse,” Theo muttered.

The warning chime rang shortly before nine. Students began leaving their tables, and Daryan followed the other first-year Horned Serpents into the corridor.

Charms was held in a bright classroom on the second floor. Tall windows filled one wall, overlooking the mountains and the forest surrounding the castle. Rows of desks faced a wide teaching platform covered with objects Daryan could not identify. Feathers, wooden blocks, brass bells, and stacks of colored paper had been arranged in separate trays.

The first-year Wampus students entered through another door. Riven Bower sat near the front with Ludan Wildes and Frederick Brinks. He glanced toward Daryan and Theo, but Professor Sylveran’s warning in the forest appeared to remain fresh enough to keep him silent.

Daryan selected a desk beside Geoffrey. Theo and Ivan sat behind them, while Natalia took a place near the windows with another Horned Serpent girl.

Professor Vale stood on the platform and waited until everyone was seated. With a small movement of her wand, the classroom doors closed.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning, Professor Vale,” the students answered with varying levels of enthusiasm.

She raised one eyebrow. “We can improve upon that tomorrow.”

A few students laughed, and some of the tension left the room.

Professor Vale moved to the front edge of the platform. “Charms is the study of using magic to alter what an object does without fundamentally changing what that object is. If I enchant a wooden chair to dance, it remains a wooden chair. It simply becomes a considerably less cooperative one.”

She flicked her wand toward an empty chair in the corner.

The chair leaped onto two legs and began performing an energetic dance across the classroom. It kicked its front legs outward, spun in a circle, and bowed to the students before returning to its original place.

“Transfiguration would alter the chair itself,” Professor Vale continued. “Professor Wallaby will explain that distinction in greater detail this afternoon. In this room, we will concentrate on four essential elements.”

She directed her wand toward the blackboard. Pieces of chalk rose from the tray and wrote behind her.

INTENTION
INCANTATION
MOVEMENT
CONTROL

“A charm may possess the correct incantation and still fail if the caster does not understand the desired result. Poor pronunciation or an incorrect wand movement can also produce failure. Occasionally, a student will succeed despite making a mistake. Those successes may be more dangerous than ordinary failures because they encourage the belief that instructions are optional.”

Daryan thought about the bubbles he had produced in the common room. He shifted slightly in his seat and forced his attention back to the professor.

Professor Vale began taking attendance. She displayed no unusual reaction when she reached Daryan’s name, although her eyes briefly met his before moving to Geoffrey. The small acknowledgment told him she remembered their meeting in Hushnote.

After completing the list, she sent one white feather floating toward every desk.

“Before anyone becomes overly excited, you will not be levitating these today,” she warned. “The feathers will allow you to observe the movement of air produced by your wand. An overly forceful motion will send the feather away from you. A movement without sufficient control will accomplish nothing.”

The students practiced the simple motion she demonstrated. Feathers immediately flew from several desks. One struck the ceiling, while another sailed across the room and landed in Ludan’s hair.

Daryan moved his wand carefully. His feather trembled without leaving the desk.

“Better than sending it into someone else’s clothing,” Professor Vale remarked as she passed him. She studied his grip before adding, “Relax your fingers, Mr. Marsdale. Your wand is not going to escape simply because you stop squeezing it.”

Daryan adjusted his hand and repeated the motion. This time, the feather slid several inches across the desk without taking flight.

Professor Vale continued along the row.

The correction eased some of the pressure inside him. She had not ignored his mistake because he was related to Eruman, nor had she expected him to perform the movement perfectly. He was another student who needed instruction.

Once everyone demonstrated a reasonably controlled motion, Professor Vale collected the feathers.

“Our first charm will be familiar to some of you. The Wand-Lighting Charm produces illumination from the tip of the caster’s wand. Who can provide the incantation?”

Several hands rose. Daryan hesitated before lifting his own, but Professor Vale selected a Wampus girl near the windows.

“Lumos,” the girl answered.

“Correct. The countercharm?”

This time, she called on Geoffrey.

“Nox.”

“Also correct.”

Professor Vale demonstrated both. A warm sphere of light appeared at the tip of her wand when she cast Lumos, illuminating the front of the classroom. It vanished when she followed it with Nox.

“You will practice in pairs. One student will cast while the other observes the pronunciation and movement, then you will exchange roles. No one will point a wand toward another person’s face. Magical light can be considerably brighter than it appears from behind the wand.”

Daryan and Geoffrey turned their chairs toward one another.

“You first,” Geoffrey offered.

Daryan raised his wand and tried to ignore Professor Vale as she began moving between the desks.

“Lumos.”

A clear light appeared at the tip of his wand. It was not the brightest in the classroom, but it remained steady. Daryan allowed himself a small smile before casting Nox.

The light disappeared.

“You have been practicing,” Professor Vale observed from beside their desk.

Daryan looked up at her. “Only the charms my grandfather approved before school.”

“Lumos, Nox, and Wingardium Leviosa?”

“Yes, Professor.”

“A sensible beginning.” She turned her attention to Geoffrey. “Let us see whether your practice was equally productive, Mr. Taylor.”

Geoffrey successfully produced his own light. His first attempt flickered, but it strengthened when he corrected the angle of his wrist.

Professor Vale nodded. “Both of you have developed a useful foundation. Continue paying attention to your technique, even when the result comes easily.”

She moved to the next pair.

Daryan watched her compliment Theo when he produced a tiny light after several unsuccessful attempts. She praised Ivan for correcting his pronunciation and Riven for maintaining a particularly steady glow. She did not reserve encouragement for Daryan or overlook anyone else’s mistakes.

The tightness in his chest gradually eased.

Every student had produced at least a faint light when the final bell rang. Theo’s remained the smallest, but he was so pleased with it that he continued alternating between Lumos and Nox until Professor Vale gently suggested that his wand had demonstrated enough for one morning.

As the students packed away their materials, Daryan held back.

“You three go ahead,” he told Geoffrey. “I want to ask Professor Vale something.”

Geoffrey studied him for a moment before nodding. “We’ll wait outside.”

Daryan approached the teaching platform after the remaining students filed from the room. Professor Vale was using her wand to return the feathers and brass bells to their cabinets.

She glanced over when he stopped nearby. “Yes, Mr. Marsdale?”

Daryan held his Charms book against his chest. “Something happened yesterday in the common room. I don’t know whether it was a proper charm.”

Professor Vale lowered her wand. Her curiosity sharpened without becoming alarmed. “Tell me what happened.”

“I saw an older girl making bubbles come from her wand in the courtyard. Later, I tried to copy her.”

“Did you know the incantation?”

“No. I pictured what she did, moved my wand the way she had, and said ‘Bubbles.’”

Professor Vale’s eyebrows rose slightly. “What happened?”

“It worked. When I wanted it to stop, I copied the other movement and said ‘Enough.’”

“Were you frightened, angry, or upset at the time?”

“No, Professor. I was curious.”

Professor Vale placed the last tray inside the cabinet and closed its doors. “Magic begins with intention, as I explained this morning. Established incantations and wand movements shape that intention into a reliable result. Young magical children sometimes produce what they want without understanding how, particularly during emotional moments.”

“But I wasn’t upset, and I used my wand.”

“Exactly. That makes your experience less common, although not necessarily dangerous by itself. Your wand interpreted your intention successfully despite the incorrect incantation.”

“Should I be worried?”

“No, but you should not repeat the experiment without supervision.” Professor Vale leaned lightly against the edge of her desk. “Improvised magic is unpredictable. The next attempt could produce bubbles filled with water, bubbles that refuse to break, or bubbles large enough to lift the furniture. Success once does not guarantee the same result again.”

Daryan remembered the shining bubbles drifting harmlessly around his chair. They had not felt dangerous at the time.

“I won’t try it again.”

“Good. If something similar occurs, tell me or another professor. You are not in trouble, Mr. Marsdale. Ilvermorny exists to help you understand your magic before curiosity places you or anyone else in danger.”

Daryan thanked her and left the classroom.

Geoffrey, Theo, and Ivan were waiting in the corridor. Harper stood with them, holding her history books against the front of her Thunderbird robes. She smiled when Daryan joined them.

“What did you ask Professor Vale?” Geoffrey asked.

“I told her about something I did in the common room yesterday.” Daryan adjusted the Charms book against his chest. “I saw an older student creating bubbles with her wand, so I tried copying her. I didn’t know the incantation, but the bubbles appeared anyway.”

“You made up a charm?” Theo asked, his interest immediately overcoming his concern about reaching History on time.

“Not exactly. Professor Vale thinks my wand understood what I wanted even though I used the wrong words. She warned me not to try it again without supervision.”

Geoffrey’s eyebrows drew together. “Why didn’t you tell us when we came back?”

“I didn’t think it was important. Nothing went wrong, and I wasn’t sure I had done anything unusual until I checked my book.”

“Tell us next time,” Geoffrey said. His voice was not angry, but the concern in his face made it clear that he meant the request seriously.

Daryan nodded. “I will.”

Ivan considered the explanation before offering his conclusion. “Professor Vale’s warning seems reasonable. Improvised magic sounds like the sort of thing that remains entertaining until the furniture starts floating away.”

They began walking toward Magical History. Harper fell into step beside Daryan, glancing at him as they passed through a shaft of sunlight from one of the tall windows.

“I meant to tell you yesterday that your eyes look incredible.”

Daryan instinctively looked away before reminding himself that Harper’s tone held admiration rather than mockery. “Thanks.”

“That is a better reaction than some of the kids in Nashville gave him,” Geoffrey remarked.

Harper’s forehead creased. “What was wrong with their reactions?”

“They acted as though being different gave them a reason to bother him.”

Harper looked at Daryan again. “Then they were idiots. The blue and green look good together.”

A genuine smile pulled at Daryan’s mouth. “Thank you.”

Theo glanced at the clock mounted above the next corridor. “We should hurry unless we want Professor Tyndale to remember us as the students who were late to her first class.”

The five students quickened their pace.

Magical History was taught in a large lecture hall with enough curved rows to accommodate the entire first-year class. Maps covered the walls, showing North America at different points throughout magical history. Daryan recognized one depicting early magical settlements and another tracing how communities moved during periods of No-Maj expansion.

Professor Marjory Tyndale stood behind a broad wooden lectern. She was a narrow-faced woman with dark red hair arranged in a tight bun. Her violet robes were neatly pressed, and several pieces of chalk floated behind her in a perfectly straight row.

“Find your assigned seats,” she instructed. “The arrangement is listed on the board.”

Daryan located his name in the second row. Geoffrey sat on his right, while a Thunderbird girl he did not recognize occupied the seat on his left. Harper was one row behind them. Theo and Ivan sat farther along the curve of the lecture hall.

Professor Tyndale waited until everyone was seated.

“As Headmaster Magreth explained, I have agreed to teach Magical History while Professor Houst continues his research in Egypt. You will use both A History of Magic and An Introduction to North American Magical History. The first provides the wider foundation necessary to understand the magical world. The second examines the communities, governments, conflicts, and institutions that developed across North America.”

The chalk moved toward the board.

ILVERMORNY: FOUNDING AND EARLY DEVELOPMENT

“We will begin with the institution in which you are currently sitting. Who can name Ilvermorny’s founders?”

Nearly every hand rose. Professor Tyndale selected a Pukwudgie boy in the first row.

“Isolt Sayre and James Steward.”

“Two of them,” Professor Tyndale corrected. “Who were the others?”

Harper raised her hand and was selected.

“Chadwick and Webster Boot.”

“Correct.”

The chalk wrote all four names across the board. With another movement of Professor Tyndale’s wand, an image appeared above the lectern. It showed the original stone cottage that Daryan recognized from Isolt and James’s portrait.

“Ilvermorny did not begin as the castle surrounding us,” Professor Tyndale explained. “It began here, in a home where Isolt taught Chadwick and Webster. The school grew from a family’s decision to share knowledge rather than guard it.”

The image changed as the cottage expanded. New rooms appeared, followed by towers, courtyards, and portions of the castle.

Professor Tyndale spoke about James Steward, a No-Maj who became part of the magical family and helped construct the earliest sections of Ilvermorny despite being unable to perform magic himself.

Daryan thought about Damon and Aryanna. Neither of his parents had grown up using magic, but that did not mean they could not belong within his new world. James had helped create one of the greatest magical schools in existence without ever casting a spell.

“Each of the four houses took its name from a magical creature,” Professor Tyndale continued. “Why were those creatures selected?”

Daryan knew the answer. He had read the chapter twice at home and reviewed it in the common room.

His hand remained against his desk.

If Professor Tyndale called upon him and he answered incorrectly, would she mention it to Eruman? Would the other students wonder how the Headmaster’s grandson could fail a basic question about Ilvermorny? If he answered too often, would they assume Eruman had taught him everything before he arrived?

Only three hands were raised.

Daryan slowly lifted his own.

“Mr. Marsdale?”

“Each member of the family chose the creature they felt the strongest connection to,” Daryan answered. “Isolt chose the Horned Serpent, James chose the Pukwudgie, Chadwick chose the Thunderbird, and Webster chose the Wampus.”

“Correct. Those choices later became the names and symbols of the houses.”

Professor Tyndale turned back to the board without treating his answer as more significant than anyone else’s.

Daryan lowered his hand.

She called upon students from every house throughout the rest of the lesson. Daryan answered another question about the earliest school building, but he also listened as Theo explained the Gordian Knot and a Wampus girl described how the school expanded over generations.

Professor Tyndale ended the class by assigning one chapter from each history book.

“You are not expected to memorize every date by tomorrow,” she told them. “You are expected to understand the order in which the major events occurred and why they mattered. History is not a pile of dates. It is a record of decisions and their consequences.”

Daryan wrote the assignment at the top of his parchment. Magical History had already become one of his favorite classes.

The first-years returned to their common rooms after the lesson to collect their Potions equipment. When Daryan, Geoffrey, Theo, and Ivan reached the Great Hall for lunch, Harper and Parker had saved places near the end of the Horned Serpent table. The staff allowed students to sit with friends from other houses during the midday meal, and groups rearranged themselves throughout the room.

“How was Charms?” Parker asked once everyone was seated.

“We practiced Lumos,” Geoffrey told him. “Daryan and I already knew it.”

“Professor Vale also warned me not to improvise charms,” Daryan added.

Parker stopped filling his plate. “What did you do?”

“I made bubbles come from my wand without knowing the proper incantation. Professor Vale said it worked because my wand understood what I wanted, but she told me not to attempt it again without supervision.”

Parker gave him a thoughtful look. “That sounds impressive and unsafe in almost equal amounts.”

“That was more or less her explanation,” Daryan admitted.

Theo barely touched his lunch. His attention remained fixed on the Potions book beside his plate.

“You need to eat,” Daryan reminded him.

“What if I add something in the wrong order?”

“Professor Mercer will stop you.”

“What if he doesn’t notice?”

Parker gave Theo a sympathetic look. “Marisol says Professor Mercer notices everything. He once identified which student had ruined a potion by the way everyone was standing around the cauldron.”

Theo appeared less reassured than before.

“We read the opening chapters,” Daryan reminded him. “We know the safety rules and how to prepare the equipment. If we work together, we can check each other.”

Theo considered that before taking a reluctant bite of his sandwich.

After lunch, the Horned Serpent and Pukwudgie first-years descended to the lower levels of the castle. The Potions classroom was cooler than the floors above, with thick stone walls and narrow windows positioned near the ceiling. Copper pipes carried water to deep sinks at the back of the room. Shelves were crowded with glass jars containing dried plants, powders, liquids, and several objects Daryan did not want to examine closely.

Worktables filled the center of the classroom, each equipped with two cauldron stands and an adjustable flame.

Professor Mercer stood beside his desk in dark green robes. His amber spectacles magnified his eyes slightly as he watched the students enter.

Daryan remembered meeting him in Hushnote. Professor Mercer had greeted Eruman with the familiarity of someone who had known him for years. There was no possibility of entering the class without Mercer knowing exactly who he was.

“Choose a worktable and remain standing,” the professor instructed.

Daryan and Theo selected a table near the middle of the room. Geoffrey and Ivan took the one behind them, while Parker paired with another Pukwudgie boy across the aisle.

Once everyone was in place, Professor Mercer closed the classroom door.

“Potions requires discipline, patience, observation, and the ability to follow instructions precisely. Creativity has its place, but that place is not inside the cauldron of an eleven-year-old who cannot distinguish powdered moonstone from dried salamander scale.”

Several students glanced nervously at the jars lining the walls.

“You will not taste anything prepared in this classroom unless I give you direct permission. You will not touch unidentified ingredients, increase a flame because you are bored, add something because you enjoy its color, or lean over a cauldron to determine whether the fumes smell pleasant.”

Professor Mercer pointed toward a cabinet near the back.

“Protective goggles, gloves, and emergency neutralizing solution are stored there. The emergency shower is beside the sinks. Anyone who believes these precautions are unnecessary may speak with the third-year student who spent a week with steam emerging from his ears.”

Daryan resisted the urge to look at Theo.

Professor Mercer took attendance without changing his expression. When he reached Daryan, his eyes lifted from the parchment.

“Daryan Marsdale.”

“Here, Professor.”

Mercer held his gaze briefly before continuing to Geoffrey’s name.

Daryan released a quiet breath. The professor had not mentioned Eruman, although the pause left Daryan wondering whether a comparison had already been made.

Professor Mercer directed the students to place their cauldrons upon the stands. Their first assignment was an indicator solution intended to test their ability to measure ingredients, regulate heat, and follow stirring instructions. The finished liquid would begin clear, become cranberry after the final dry ingredient was added, and settle into deep blue as it cooled.

“No portion of this solution is to be consumed,” Mercer warned. “It is harmless when properly brewed, but it tastes like boiled tree bark and disappointment.”

Daryan removed his equipment from his bag. He and Theo filled their cauldron with the required amount of water before lighting the flame beneath it. Each table had received a tray containing dried silverleaf, powdered oyster shell, three bottles of liquid, and a narrow packet of blue-gray powder.

Theo carefully measured the silverleaf while Daryan checked the temperature.

“Is this enough?” Theo asked.

Daryan compared the leaves with the illustration in their textbook. “It’s right.”

Theo released the breath he had been holding and added them.

The boys took turns stirring. Daryan counted each clockwise rotation beneath his breath, then stopped so Theo could add the powdered oyster shell.

A sharp clatter sounded beneath the table.

Theo’s stirring rod had slipped from his hand and struck the stone floor. A thin crack appeared along the middle when he picked it up.

“I broke it,” he whispered, staring at the damage.

“It’s all right.” Daryan opened his equipment case and removed one of his extra stirring rods. “Grandfather and Professor Mercer both told me to buy several.”

Theo accepted it with visible relief. “I’m glad you listened.”

They continued working. Daryan repeatedly checked the instructions, determined not to miss a step. He lowered the flame whenever the surface began moving, worried that the solution might boil before the next ingredient was ready.

Around them, several cauldrons began changing color. Parker’s solution turned cranberry, while the mixture at another table became orange. Professor Mercer extinguished that flame and handed its occupants a bottle of neutralizing solution.

Daryan’s potion remained nearly clear.

“The temperature is too low,” Theo said. He pointed toward the thermometer, which hovered several degrees below the required range.

“I thought it was getting too hot.”

“It hasn’t started steaming.”

Daryan checked the instructions again. Theo was right. His caution had prevented the reaction from progressing.

He increased the flame.

The silverleaf began swirling through the water. A faint cranberry color spread from the center of the cauldron until the entire solution changed.

Relief brightened Theo’s face. “It worked.”

“Do not celebrate before completing the instructions,” Professor Mercer warned as he passed their table.

Both boys immediately returned their attention to the cauldron.

They added the blue-gray powder, stirred three times counterclockwise, and extinguished the flame. The cranberry color deepened before shifting gradually into blue.

Professor Mercer returned and examined their work. He held a small glass paddle over the steam and watched its clear surface turn silver.

“Acceptable,” he decided.

Theo smiled.

“Your measurements were precise, and you corrected the temperature before the solution became unstable.” Mercer’s gaze moved toward Daryan. “However, excessive caution delayed the reaction. A flame kept too low can ruin a potion as effectively as one kept too high.”

“Yes, Professor.”

“You prepared by reading the instructions. That is useful. Now learn to observe what is happening inside the cauldron instead of expecting the page to make every decision for you.”

Professor Mercer moved to the next table.

Daryan looked into the blue solution. He wondered whether Mercer would have spoken as critically if he were any other student. Then he remembered the orange potion the professor had neutralized and the corrections delivered at nearly every table.

Mercer had called their work acceptable because it was acceptable. He had not praised them for producing an ordinary solution, nor had he treated their mistake as a disaster.

The lesson ended after Professor Mercer inspected every cauldron. Successful solutions were poured into labeled bottles for later use, while the failed mixtures were neutralized and discarded.

Daryan and Theo cleaned their equipment before joining Geoffrey and Ivan in the corridor.

“How did yours turn out?” Geoffrey asked.

“Acceptable,” Theo answered, imitating Professor Mercer’s severe expression.

Ivan adjusted the bag containing his equipment. “Ours was also acceptable. I believe that may be the highest available praise.”

Daryan laughed as they climbed toward the third floor.

Professor Tomas Wallaby’s classroom occupied a quiet corridor away from the busiest staircases. The first-year Thunderbirds were already taking their seats when the Horned Serpents arrived. Harper waved from a desk near the center of the room.

Daryan and Geoffrey sat together again, with Theo and Ivan behind them.

Professor Wallaby was a compact man with salt-and-pepper hair and a neatly trimmed mustache. He wore blue robes over a cranberry waistcoat, and a silver pocket watch hung from a chain across his chest. A row of wooden cubes rested upon his desk.

He waited until the final bell rang before closing the door.

“Transfiguration is the magical alteration of an object or living creature’s physical nature. It requires precision, concentration, and a clear understanding of both the original subject and the intended result.”

He picked up one of the cubes.

“If I paint this gray, I have changed its appearance. If I carve it into a ball, I have changed its shape. Neither action changes the fact that the object is made from wood.”

Professor Wallaby placed the cube on his palm and raised his wand. With a slow circular movement, he tapped its top. The sharp corners softened and receded as the brown wood became gray stone, leaving a smooth sphere in his hand.

“Transfiguration changes the nature of the object itself. That is what makes it powerful, useful, and potentially dangerous.”

Daryan leaned forward.

Professor Wallaby explained that the students would attempt the same transformation in stages. He did not expect anyone to complete it during the first lesson. Their initial goal was to alter either the shape or material of the cube while maintaining control.

The wooden cubes floated from his desk and landed in front of the students.

“Examine the object before touching your wand,” Wallaby instructed. “Understand what it is. Consider its weight, texture, shape, and material. You cannot reliably change something you have not bothered to observe.”

Daryan picked up his cube. It fit easily into his palm, with a smooth surface and slightly rounded edges. He returned it to the desk and studied the diagram Professor Wallaby had drawn on the board.

The required wand movement began with a small circle and ended with a controlled tap. Daryan practiced it once without speaking.

Students began their first attempts around the classroom. One cube rolled from a desk, while another developed a small wooden bump on its side.

Daryan pictured the stone sphere Professor Wallaby had created. He concentrated on the smooth curve and cool gray surface before performing the movement.

His cube trembled.

One corner softened slightly, but the object remained wooden.

Daryan tried again, concentrating harder upon changing the material. A gray streak spread across one side before fading back to brown.

He frowned. This was the subject he had read about for days. He understood the theory, the movement, and the intended result. None of it seemed to matter.

Professor Wallaby stopped beside him. “You are attempting to change the shape and material simultaneously.”

“That’s what you did.”

“I have practiced longer than one afternoon.” Amusement appeared briefly beneath the professor’s mustache. “Choose one change. Complete it before demanding another.”

Daryan concentrated on the shape. He pictured the corners rounding inward while leaving the wood untouched.

He performed the movement again.

The cube shuddered. Its corners softened, and the straight sides bowed outward until the object resembled a roughly carved wooden ball.

“That is progress,” Professor Wallaby said.

“It’s still wood.”

“Because you chose to alter the shape.”

Daryan realized the professor was right.

“Now attempt the material.”

Daryan pictured the weight and texture of stone before tapping the uneven ball.

Gray spread across nearly half of it. The transformed portion dropped against the desk with enough weight to make the remaining wooden side tilt upward.

A smile broke across Daryan’s face.

“A controlled partial transformation,” Professor Wallaby said. “A strong beginning. Do not attempt to complete it today.”

He moved to Geoffrey’s desk, where the cube had become a lopsided ball with one corner still sticking out.

Daryan examined his work. It was far from the smooth stone sphere Professor Wallaby had demonstrated, but it was no longer a wooden cube.

The remainder of the class passed quickly. Theo managed to turn his cube gray without changing it into stone. Ivan made his colder and slightly heavier, while Geoffrey eventually removed the final corner from his misshapen ball. Harper produced an almost perfect sphere that remained entirely wooden.

Professor Wallaby inspected each result and explained precisely what the student had accomplished. He neither exaggerated successes nor treated failures as shameful.

When he returned to Daryan, he instructed him to reverse the transformation by concentrating upon the cube’s original state. It took three attempts, but the object eventually returned to wood. Its shape remained slightly rounded, which Wallaby declared acceptable for the first lesson.

The final bell released the students.

Daryan left the classroom exhausted but pleased. He had spent most of the day expecting his professors to see Eruman whenever they looked at him. Professor Vale and Professor Mercer remembered meeting him with the Headmaster, while Professor Tyndale and Professor Wallaby undoubtedly knew about their relationship.

None had expected him to arrive with Eruman’s knowledge. They corrected his mistakes, acknowledged his preparation, and judged the work he placed before them. Most of the pressure Daryan carried had come from expectations no one had expressed.

At dinner, students returned to the tables belonging to their respective houses. The relaxed seating permitted during lunch had ended, leaving Harper with the Thunderbirds and Parker among the Pukwudgies.

Daryan sat with Geoffrey, Theo, and Ivan among the other Horned Serpents. Roasted beef, potatoes, vegetables, and fresh bread filled the serving dishes. He ate more than expected, having discovered that four magical classes produced an impressive appetite.

“Charms was the best,” Geoffrey declared.

“You only think that because we already knew the spell,” Theo replied.

“I still had to cast it.”

“Potions wasn’t as bad as I expected,” Theo admitted as he reached for more bread. “Nothing exploded.”

“Nothing exploded at our table,” Ivan corrected. “The orange mixture near the windows was making an unusual noise before Professor Mercer neutralized it.”

“I still prefer Transfiguration,” Daryan said.

“You didn’t completely transform the cube,” Geoffrey reminded him.

“Neither did anyone else.”

Ivan unfolded the schedule he had brought to dinner. “Tomorrow we have Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, Astronomy Theory, and Wandwork.”

Theo looked down at his nearly empty plate. “Four more classes?”

“That is generally how school works,” Geoffrey told him.

After dinner, the students rose from their house tables and filed into the corridor. Harper and Parker were waiting for the boys outside the Great Hall beneath the portraits of Ilvermorny’s former headmasters.

“How did the rest of your Transfiguration lesson go?” Parker asked.

“Daryan changed half his cube into stone,” Geoffrey answered.

“Mine became an almost perfect sphere,” Harper announced proudly. “It stayed wooden, but Professor Wallaby said changing the shape still counted as progress.”

“Daryan got farther, then,” Parker observed.

Harper gave Daryan a reluctant nod. “In one exercise during one lesson. He shouldn’t get comfortable.”

Daryan smiled. “Professor Wallaby said we weren’t expected to complete both changes.”

Parker looked between them with quiet amusement. “You’ve been classmates for one day, and you’re already competing.”

“Only because Daryan might make it interesting,” Harper replied.

The group began moving through the gallery, comparing their lessons and discussing the classes awaiting them in the morning. They had almost reached the corridor where they would separate when Daryan glanced back toward the portrait of Isolt Sayre and James Steward.

Isolt had been speaking quietly with her husband, but she turned as though she sensed Daryan watching. Her painted gaze settled upon the Horned Serpent clasp fastened to his robes.

A proud smile appeared on her face.

Daryan slowed and lifted one hand in a small wave. Isolt returned it before glancing toward James, who gave Daryan an approving nod.

“Are you coming?” Geoffrey called.

Daryan turned away from the portrait. “Yeah.”

Harper and Parker left them at the next junction, heading toward the passages leading to the Thunderbird and Pukwudgie common rooms. Daryan, Geoffrey, Theo, and Ivan continued toward the eastern side of the castle.

Inside the dormitory, Daryan placed the unfinished assignments from his first day on the desk beside his bed. He wrote the required history chapters on a fresh piece of parchment and added Professor Vale’s warning beneath his Charms notes.

Do not attempt improvised magic without supervision.

Chip settled on the bedpost as Daryan opened A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration. Geoffrey and Theo began reading their history assignments, while Ivan sat cross-legged on his bed and polished his cauldron despite not needing it again until Thursday.

Daryan found the chapter explaining partial transformations and began reading. Across the room, Theo mispronounced the name of an early Ilvermorny governor, Geoffrey confidently corrected him with an even worse pronunciation, and Ivan looked up from his cauldron to correct them both.

Daryan smiled and returned to the diagram of a cube slowly becoming a stone sphere. Their first day had given them more than enough to study, and the four boys settled into their work while Chip and Juniper watched from the bedposts.

 

 

Chapter 10

Fifteen Feet of Sky

Fresh ink crawled across a piece of parchment pinned to the Horned Serpent notice board, forming a final line beneath an announcement that had appeared overnight.

FLYING LESSON RESCHEDULED

Daryan stood with Geoffrey, Theo, and Ivan as the remaining details settled into place. Their Flying lesson had been moved from Wednesday afternoon to Friday. The House Study Period originally scheduled for Friday would replace it on Wednesday.

Geoffrey leaned closer as if a hidden explanation might appear beneath the signature. “Why did they move it?”

The notice merely stated that Professor Stanley Yelton had approved the change and that all first-years should report to the western training courtyard after their final Magical Creatures lesson on Friday.

“We have to wait three more days,” Geoffrey complained, the disappointment visible in the way his shoulders sank.

Theo looked considerably more pleased. “That gives me three additional days before I have to leave the ground.”

“You traveled here aboard a flying zeppelin,” Ivan reminded him.

“The zeppelin had floors, walls, a crew, and enough furniture to suggest that staying aboard was the intended arrangement.”

“A broom has a handle.”

Theo looked at him. “That is not the same.”

Daryan shared Geoffrey’s disappointment, although he tried not to show it. He had thought about flying ever since seeing the Arrowmark Next-Gen in Hushnote Quarter. A school broom would not be nearly as fast or impressive, but it would still allow him to experience something that had been impossible in the No-Maj world.

Three days should not have seemed long. Knowing he had to wait through every one of them made the delay feel much greater.

The first class on Tuesday was Defense Against the Dark Arts with Professor Fadero Sylveran. The man who had escorted the first-years through the forest looked even more imposing inside his classroom. His broad shoulders strained the fabric of his dark robes, and a long scar disappeared beneath his collar near the left side of his neck.

There were no desks. Cushioned mats covered the floor, and several training figures stood against the walls. Daryan recognized wooden models shaped like people, but others resembled creatures with claws, horns, and far too many arms.

Professor Sylveran ordered the students into three rows.

“Defense is not the same as fighting,” he told them. “The most effective defense often begins with recognizing a threat before it reaches you. If you can leave safely, you leave. If you can call for help, you call for help. Casting should not be your first response merely because you happen to be holding a wand.”

He spent the lesson teaching them how to stand without restricting their movement. They practiced drawing their wands without pointing them at nearby students and learned to identify the closest exits whenever they entered an unfamiliar room.

Riven smirked when Professor Sylveran instructed them to retreat from an approaching training figure rather than attack it.

The professor noticed immediately. “Something amuses you, Mr. Bower?”

“I thought we were going to learn how to defeat dark wizards.”

“You are eleven.”

Several students laughed, but Professor Sylveran’s expression did not change.

“Your first responsibility is surviving long enough to become someone capable of defeating a dark wizard. Step back into position.”

Color entered Riven’s face as he obeyed.

The lesson ended without anyone casting a spell. Geoffrey was visibly disappointed, but Daryan kept thinking about the creatures hidden in the forest and how quickly one of them could have reached a child who wandered from the path. Knowing when to escape seemed far more useful after imagining what might have waited between those trees.

Herbology was held in a collection of glass greenhouses behind the southern side of the castle. Professor June Rosloe met the students at the entrance wearing thick gloves and a cranberry apron over her green robes. She was a short woman with curly blond hair, dirt on one cheek, and several leaves caught within the folds of her sleeves.

“Plants are living magical organisms,” she told the first-years. “Some are pleasant. Some are useful. Some are beautiful. A surprising number are none of those things.”

Their first assignment involved repotting humming nettles. The plants produced soft musical notes when handled correctly, but they shrieked whenever someone pulled too forcefully on their roots.

Within minutes, the greenhouse sounded like an orchestra being attacked.

Geoffrey’s plant released a piercing note that made everyone nearby cover their ears. Professor Rosloe hurried over and loosened the soil around its roots.

“You cannot drag it from the pot by its stalk,” she warned.

Geoffrey released the plant and shook the ringing from one ear. “I didn’t know it could scream.”

“That is why we call it a humming nettle and not a silent, cooperative nettle.”

Daryan worked with Theo. They loosened the soil before carefully lifting their plant and lowering it into a larger pot. The nettle produced a series of low, pleasant notes as Daryan covered its roots with fresh earth.

Professor Rosloe smiled when she inspected their work. “Much better. Plants usually tell you what they need if you bother to pay attention.”

Astronomy Theory occupied the first portion of their afternoon. Professor Alfred Gravis was a thin, gray-haired man with a carefully trimmed beard and a quiet voice that required the class to listen. An enchanted model of the solar system floated above the center of the room. Planets traveled along glowing paths while their moons circled them at different speeds.

Professor Gravis explained that Astronomy involved more than memorizing the names and movements of distant objects. Certain potions, charms, magical creatures, and plants responded to the positions of the moon and stars. Their first nighttime observation would take place on Thursday.

The final lesson was Wandwork with Professor Helen Muldawny. She wore her dark hair in a thick braid that hung down her back, and she carried herself with the straight posture of someone who noticed whenever anyone else slouched.

Professor Muldawny did not permit them to cast spells. Instead, she created narrow ribbons of light in the air and instructed the students to trace them with their wand tips without touching the edges.

Daryan’s first line glowed brightly but drifted outside the ribbon halfway through the movement.

“Strength is not control, Mr. Marsdale,” Professor Muldawny told him. Her eyes moved from his wand to his fingers. “You are forcing the motion when you should be guiding it.”

Daryan loosened his grip and tried again. His wand followed the winding path until he reached the end.

“Better,” she said, offering a precise nod before continuing to the next student.

Daryan returned to the common room that evening with his mind crowded by defensive positions, plant roots, planetary movements, and wand techniques. He completed part of his homework with the other boys before changing for bed.

Sleep came quickly.

The cabinet was waiting for him again.

Daryan stood inside a corridor with tall stone walls and a narrow arched ceiling. He could not see any windows, but pale blue light spilled across the floor from somewhere behind him. The passage felt familiar even though he did not remember seeing it during the orientation day.

The cabinet stood at the far end. Its dark wood absorbed the faint light surrounding it. Tarnished brass hinges ran along its doors, and the carvings around the frame shifted whenever Daryan tried to study them.

This time, he did not approach.

Whispering filled the corridor.

Dozens of voices spoke over one another from inside the cabinet, creating a tangled murmur he could not understand. Some sounded angry. Others pleaded or cried. One voice laughed softly beneath the rest.

Daryan stepped backward.

The whispers grew louder until one separated from the others.

“Daryan.”

His body became rigid.

The brass handles began turning from the inside. Both doors shook against the frame as something pressed against them. A narrow seam appeared between the doors, releasing a thin stream of darkness.

Daryan awoke with a gasp.

He sat up so quickly that the curtains around his bed swayed. His heart pounded, and one hand reached toward the bedside table where he kept his wand.

Chip stood near his pillow. The little owl watched him with wide amber eyes before moving closer and nudging his hand.

“I’m fine,” Daryan whispered, though he was not certain whether he was reassuring Chip or himself.

Geoffrey, Theo, and Ivan remained asleep. No whispering moved through the dormitory, and no cabinet stood against the wall.

Daryan considered waking Geoffrey. His friend would believe him, but he would also insist they speak with a professor. That conversation could eventually reach Eruman.

Reporting mysterious dreams during his first week would attract precisely the attention Daryan wanted to avoid. It had only been a dream, and the cabinet had been on his mind since Hushnote. His imagination had enough information to create the rest.

He lay back down and allowed Chip to remain beside him. The owl settled against his shoulder, and Daryan rested one hand over the warm feathers until sleep returned.

The dream did not come back that night.

A loud beating of wings filled the Great Hall during breakfast the following morning. Daryan looked up as dozens of owls entered through openings near the enchanted ceiling. They circled the tables before descending toward waiting students with letters, newspapers, packages, and parcels.

Snowbird landed beside Geoffrey’s plate and extended one leg. Geoffrey removed a letter bearing Emily’s handwriting before looking curiously at the owl.

“You had the letter with you? When did she send it?”

Snowbird stared at him.

Ivan watched the silent exchange. “I believe that was a foolish question.”

Geoffrey opened the letter while Snowbird helped himself to a piece of bacon.

Another owl dropped a thick envelope in front of Theo. A No-Maj photograph slid out with the letter, showing his parents standing outside their home. They remained perfectly still, but both had been caught waving toward the camera.

A broad Canadian owl delivered a package to Ivan. Inside, he found maple candies, a dark green scarf, and a letter from his parents.

Ivan unfolded the scarf and studied its heavy material. “My mother believes Massachusetts becomes frozen by September.”

“She sent candy,” Theo pointed out. “You have forfeited your right to complain.”

An unfamiliar dark brown owl circled the Horned Serpent table before landing beside Daryan. Three letters were tied to its leg with blue thread.

Daryan recognized the handwriting on the first envelope immediately. “That’s from Mom.”

The owl waited until he removed all three letters before moving toward an empty section of the table. Daryan offered it a small piece of sausage, which it accepted before cleaning its feathers.

Geoffrey lowered Emily’s letter. “Mom says she hopes we’re settling in. She also says I need to brush Snowbird because he gets irritable when his feathers tangle.”

Snowbird turned his head and stared at him.

“More irritable,” Geoffrey corrected.

Daryan opened Aryanna’s letter.

Dear Daryan,

I hope your first few days at Ilvermorny have been everything you imagined. Your father and I miss you terribly, although he keeps pretending he enjoys having complete control of the television. I know you are busy, but please write when you have time and tell us about your classes, your room, and whether Chip is behaving himself.

Chip was probably outside hunting or visiting the owlery, but Daryan glanced toward the ceiling anyway.

I have something important to tell you. After Grandfather left our apartment, I could not stop thinking about what he said. I kept wondering whether a wand might choose me. Dalon finally became tired of listening to me talk myself out of discovering the answer, so he took me to Hushnote Quarter.

Daryan sat straighter.

Geoffrey noticed the sudden change in his posture. “What is it?”

Daryan held up one finger and continued reading.

I did not expect anything to happen. I thought I would hold several wands, feel nothing, and return home knowing for certain that I did not possess magic.

I was wrong.

A wand chose me, Daryan.

Daryan read the sentence twice.

The moment I held it, every lamp in the shop became brighter. Ribbons of gold light appeared around my hand, and the wandmaker said there could be no question that it had chosen me. I cried so much that Dalon had to finish paying because I could no longer see the coins.

Emily and Dalon have been helping me learn. I can perform Lumos and Nox, and I managed to levitate the television remote yesterday. Your father insists that I have been using magic to annoy him. This is entirely untrue, although his car keys may have followed him around the apartment for fifteen minutes this morning.

Daryan laughed aloud.

Geoffrey leaned toward him. “What did she do?”

“Mom got a wand.”

Geoffrey’s mouth fell open. Theo and Ivan stopped reading their own letters.

“A wand chose her?” Geoffrey asked.

Daryan nodded, unable to keep the excitement from his voice. “Uncle Dalon took her to Hushnote. Your mom and Dalon have been teaching her.”

Geoffrey’s surprise became a broad grin. “That’s brilliant!”

Daryan returned to the letter.

Damon claims the spoons stirred his coffee without permission, but he has no evidence that I was involved. He is standing beside me as I write this and insists that one of them nearly climbed out of the cup. He is exaggerating.

I wish you could have been there with me. I never believed this part of our family could belong to me. I thought it had passed over me completely. Now I understand a little more of what you felt when you opened your letter.

I am proud of you, and I love you more than anything.

Mom

Daryan held the letter for several seconds after he finished. He could imagine Aryanna standing inside the wand shop while the lamps brightened and gold light moved around her hand. He wished he had seen it.

The second letter came from Damon.

Son,

Your mother is officially armed with a wand. I have already been followed by my keys, attacked by a disobedient coffee spoon, and forced to retrieve my socks from the ceiling.

She claims each incident was an accident. Your mother is a terrible liar.

She is also happier than I have seen her in a long time. I pretend to be annoyed because it makes her laugh, but I am proud of her. Dalon and Emily have been careful with what they teach, and she has promised not to practice anywhere near the deli.

We miss you. Study hard, stay safe, and try not to make your professors regret admitting you.

Love, Dad

The third letter was from Dalon. He confirmed that Aryanna’s wand had chosen her almost immediately, but he refused to guess why her magic had remained unnoticed for so long. Late magical discoveries were unusual, and he wanted her to learn slowly before anyone attempted to draw conclusions. He and Emily intended to limit her practice to basic charms until Eruman could arrange a proper evaluation if Aryanna wanted one.

Daryan folded all three letters and looked toward the faculty table.

Eruman’s chair was empty.

“I have to tell Grandfather.”

“He probably knows,” Geoffrey pointed out.

“I still want to tell him.”

Daryan found Eruman outside the Great Hall speaking with Professor Sylveran. Several older students waited nearby to ask the Defense professor a question. Daryan stopped at a respectful distance until Eruman noticed him.

“Is something wrong, Mr. Marsdale?” Eruman asked.

“No, Headmaster. I received a letter from my mother.”

Professor Sylveran excused himself and led the waiting students down the corridor. Once they were beyond hearing, Daryan lifted Aryanna’s letter.

“A wand chose her.”

Warmth immediately entered Eruman’s face. “I know. Aryanna sent me a letter as well.”

“She can use Lumos, and she made Dad’s keys follow him.”

“So she informed me.”

“You were right.”

“I suspected it was possible. I did not know.” Eruman glanced at the letter in Daryan’s hand, and his happiness became more thoughtful. “Your mother spent her life believing the magical part of her family had passed her by. Discovering otherwise will require some adjustment.”

“She sounds happy.”

“I believe she is. I also believe your father may have to become better at hiding his keys.”

Daryan smiled.

Other students began entering the corridor, and Eruman’s posture subtly returned to that of the Headmaster.

“It appears our family has not finished surprising us, Mr. Marsdale.”

“No, Headmaster.”

Eruman’s eyes softened. “I am very glad.”

Daryan hurried away to catch his friends.

Wednesday continued with another Transfiguration lesson, followed by Charms and their first Introduction to Magical Creatures class. Professor Wallaby helped them control their partial transformations, while Professor Vale introduced the principles behind levitation. She did not allow the students to cast the charm yet, despite Geoffrey and Daryan having practiced it at home.

Professor Valerie Gardwick taught Magical Creatures in an enclosed courtyard beside the forest. She was a tall woman with reddish-brown hair, sun-darkened skin, and a coat filled with reinforced pockets.

Six Kneazles waited inside a fenced area behind her. The catlike creatures possessed large ears, spotted fur, and thick tails resembling those of lions. Professor Gardwick explained that they were highly intelligent and skilled at detecting suspicious behavior.

One Kneazle allowed Harper to scratch behind his ears. Another curled beside Theo’s feet. When Riven approached the fence, the largest flattened his ears and hissed.

Professor Gardwick stepped between them. “Stop where you are, Mr. Bower.”

Riven lowered his hand. “I thought you said they could identify untrustworthy people.”

“I said they possess excellent judgment. I did not say they serve as courtroom witnesses.” She waited until the Kneazle relaxed before showing Riven how to approach without staring directly into his eyes. “You moved too quickly and reached over his head. Try again with some respect for the teeth attached to the creature you are greeting.”

Riven followed her instructions. The Kneazle did not hiss again, although he refused to come closer.

Their rescheduled House Study Period gave the Horned Serpents time to begin their assignments. Daryan completed his Magical History reading and wrote responses to Aryanna, Damon, and Dalon. He asked Aryanna to describe her wand and promised Damon that he would try to avoid rebellious household objects when he returned home.

He left the letters inside his trunk until Chip returned from the owlery.

Mist clung to the greenhouse windows on Thursday as the first-years moved through Potions, Magical History, Herbology, and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Professor Mercer had them use their indicator solutions to test the temperatures and stability of several prepared mixtures. Daryan trusted Theo’s observations when deciding whether to increase the flame, allowing them to finish without falling behind.

Professor Tyndale began discussing the troubled history between magical and No-Maj communities in North America. Daryan found himself thinking about James Steward again and wondering how differently his own family might have lived if Aryanna’s parents had not separated her from Eruman.

The day remained pleasant until the students left Herbology.

Daryan walked with Geoffrey, Theo, and Ivan as they headed toward the castle. Riven stepped into the corridor ahead of them, with Ludan and Fred on either side.

Riven’s gaze traveled across Daryan’s face before settling upon his eyes.

“One blue and one green,” he said. Cruel amusement lifted one corner of his mouth. “Even your face couldn’t decide what it wanted to be.”

Daryan stopped.

He had heard similar comments throughout his childhood. For a short time, he had believed Ilvermorny might be different. Everyone here possessed something unusual. Some students came from old magical families, others had been raised in No-Maj homes, and all of them carried wands capable of impossible things.

His eyes were still enough to make him a target.

Riven smiled when he noticed Daryan’s silence. “You look like some mixed-up mutt.”

Geoffrey stepped forward. Anger tightened his face, but Daryan caught his arm before he could get closer.

“That’s what he wants,” Daryan said.

Riven glanced toward Geoffrey before returning his attention to Daryan. “Does your friend always speak for you, Mutt?”

The name hurt more than Daryan wanted Riven to know. He forced himself to look directly at him.

“Both of my eyes can see that you’re a bully.”

A quiet snort escaped Ivan before he could contain it. Theo’s nervousness loosened into a reluctant smile.

Riven’s expression hardened. He looked toward his companions. “Come on.”

The three boys continued down the corridor. Fred glanced back once, but Ludan was already laughing and repeating the name beneath his breath.

“Mutt,” Geoffrey muttered after them. “He’s an idiot.”

“I know.”

“You should tell Professor Sylveran.”

“He called me a name. I can handle it.”

Geoffrey studied him. He had known Daryan too long to believe the insult had done no harm, but he respected Daryan’s decision and let the matter rest.

That evening, the first-years gathered in the astronomy tower for their first nighttime observation. Professor Gravis waited beneath the open dome while telescopes arranged themselves in a circle around him.

The sky above Mount Greylock was clearer than anything Daryan had seen in Nashville. Thousands of stars stretched across the darkness without the glow of the city hiding them. The Milky Way formed a faint band overhead, while the crescent moon hung above the mountains.

Professor Gravis taught them to adjust the enchanted telescopes and locate several major constellations. The instruments could remove clouds from the viewer’s sight and display the paths stars had followed across the sky.

Daryan forgot about Riven for most of the lesson.

While waiting for a telescope, he moved toward the stone railing and looked down at Ilvermorny. Towers, rooftops, and courtyards spread beneath him, with warm light glowing from hundreds of windows.

A narrow section of the castle caught his attention. It stood between two larger wings and contained several tall, arched windows. The stonework surrounding them resembled the corridor from his dream.

Daryan leaned farther over the railing.

“Do not fall from my tower, Mr. Marsdale,” Professor Gravis warned from behind him.

Daryan stepped back. “Sorry, Professor.”

“What were you observing?”

“That part of the school.” Daryan pointed, but a tower blocked most of the structure from their new angle. “I thought it looked familiar.”

Professor Gravis studied the area without dismissing him. “Ilvermorny contains many corridors built during the same periods. Similar arches and stonework appear throughout the older wings.”

He directed Daryan toward an available telescope. Daryan obeyed, although he glanced back once more before the lesson ended.

He did not mention the dream.

Clear sky filled the enchanted ceiling during breakfast on Friday. Geoffrey could barely remain seated as he ate.

“Flying is still several hours away,” Theo reminded him.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t be excited now.”

“It means the rest of us have to listen to you talk about it for several hours.”

Daryan was equally eager, although his excitement carried more nervousness than he wanted to admit. He had never ridden anything capable of leaving the ground. Even bicycles had solid pavement beneath them.

Professor Vale began the morning with levitation practice. Daryan and Geoffrey successfully raised their feathers, although she corrected habits they had developed while practicing without an instructor. Daryan used too much wrist movement, while Geoffrey hurried the middle of the incantation.

Professor Wallaby’s lesson followed. Daryan transformed his wooden cube into a smoother sphere and changed nearly three-quarters of it into stone. The remaining section stubbornly remained wood, but he accepted the partial success more easily than he had during the first lesson.

Magical Creatures focused on caring for Kneazles and recognizing signs of agitation. The Kneazle that had hissed at Riven continued avoiding him, though Professor Gardwick eventually persuaded the animal to accept a treat from his open palm.

After lunch, the first-years returned to their common rooms to change into outdoor boots and collect their gloves. Daryan pulled on the dragon-hide pair he had first tried at home. The leather had softened after several Herbology and Potions lessons, allowing him to move his fingers more easily.

Chip watched from the bedpost as Daryan checked the fastening on his robes.

“Wish me luck.”

Chip hooted.

“I’m choosing to believe that means you think I’ll be brilliant.”

Geoffrey laughed from across the room. “He might be telling you not to fall.”

“That is also possible.”

The boys followed the other Horned Serpents to the western training courtyard. Nearly thirty practice brooms lay in straight rows across the grass. Silver posts surrounded the field, creating a faintly glowing boundary fifteen feet above the ground.

Professor Stanley Yelton stood near the center of the courtyard. He was a lean man with deep brown skin, closely cropped gray hair, and a pair of flying goggles resting around his neck. His blue robes had been fastened tightly to prevent them from catching the wind.

Harper and Parker waved when Daryan and the others joined the gathered first-years. Riven stood with Ludan and Fred near the front.

Professor Yelton waited until everyone was present.

“A broom is not a toy,” he began. “It may resemble a wooden handle with twigs attached, but every broom here can carry you high enough and fast enough to cause serious injury when handled carelessly.”

Theo stared at the nearest broom with increasing distrust.

“The practice brooms have been restricted to a maximum height of fifteen feet. They cannot cross the glowing boundary unless I remove the charm. That gives you enough room to learn without allowing anyone to disappear into the clouds.”

A few students looked toward the boundary overhead.

“Fifteen feet is still high enough to make a fall unpleasant,” Professor Yelton continued. “You can also collide with another student or discover how a broom handle feels when it strikes you in the face. Follow every instruction as it is given. If you break a rule, your flying privileges will end.”

Geoffrey’s smile weakened slightly.

“Stand beside a broom and leave enough room between yourselves to raise your arms.”

Daryan selected one near the middle of the second row. Geoffrey stood to his right, while Theo and Ivan took the next two places. Harper chose a broom across from them, and Riven positioned himself several spaces away.

“Hold your dominant hand over the broom,” Professor Yelton instructed. “Give the command clearly. Do not shout as though the broom is on the opposite side of the courtyard.”

Daryan held his right hand above the polished handle.

“Up.”

The broom trembled but remained on the grass.

Ivan’s rose smoothly into his hand. Riven’s did the same. Harper’s handle struck her palm with a loud smack, while Geoffrey’s leaped past his hand and nearly hit him beneath the chin.

“Too much enthusiasm, Mr. Taylor,” Professor Yelton called.

Theo’s broom rolled away from him.

“It’s trying to escape,” Theo said, watching it with betrayal.

Ivan kept his own broom steady against his side. “Ask it again.”

Daryan concentrated on the handle beneath his palm. He pictured it rising neatly into his grip.

“Up.”

The broom lifted from the grass.

Daryan closed his fingers around it and smiled.

Professor Yelton walked among the students, correcting grips and replacing one broom that refused to respond to anyone. Once every student held one, he demonstrated how to mount without allowing it to rise.

“The broom responds to changes in balance. Leaning forward increases speed. Pulling back reduces it. Your body and the handle guide turns together. Until your balance improves, every movement should be deliberate.”

He showed them how to hold their knees against the sides without squeezing too tightly.

Daryan mounted his broom. The handle felt narrower than expected, and his feet remained firmly planted on the grass.

“Your first exercise is a low hover,” Professor Yelton announced. “On my signal, push away from the ground and rise no more than three feet. Remain there until I tell you to land. If you lose control, release the handle. The safety charms will lower you and the broom.”

Theo raised his hand. “What if the charm doesn’t work?”

“It will.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I placed it there.”

Professor Yelton blew a silver whistle.

Daryan pushed away from the ground, and the broom rose beneath him.

His stomach dropped as the grass disappeared from beneath his boots. He tightened his grip, causing the broom to wobble from side to side.

“Loosen your hands, Mr. Marsdale,” Professor Yelton called. “Guide the broom. Do not attempt to strangle it.”

Daryan relaxed his fingers. The wobbling stopped.

He hovered several feet above the courtyard and looked around. Geoffrey floated nearby with an enormous grin. Ivan sat comfortably on his broom, while Theo had risen only a foot and appeared determined to go no higher.

Harper leaned too far forward and drifted several feet before correcting herself. Parker turned slowly in a circle, his expression calm despite the surprise in his eyes. Riven hovered as if he had flown before.

Professor Yelton taught them how to descend. Daryan pulled gently back and lowered himself until his boots touched the grass.

The next exercise involved rising to six feet, moving forward ten feet, and landing at a silver marker. Daryan accelerated too quickly and pulled back harder than necessary. His broom stopped so suddenly that he nearly slid from the handle.

Geoffrey reached the marker easily but continued several feet beyond it.

“The objective includes stopping, Mr. Taylor,” Professor Yelton called after him.

“I’m working on it!”

Theo traveled forward so slowly that Ivan walked beside him while holding his own broom.

After several attempts, Daryan began to understand how the broom responded. A slight movement altered its direction, while leaning forward produced an immediate increase in speed. He stopped thinking about every separate action and allowed his body to adjust.

Professor Yelton raised his wand. The lower training line disappeared, leaving only the fifteen-foot boundary above them.

“We will now practice controlled runs across the courtyard. You may choose your height, but you will remain beneath the boundary. Fly to the silver marker, circle it, return, and land where you began. Speed is only part of the exercise. I will be watching your ascent, turns, spacing, and landing.”

The students divided into groups of five.

Harper flew with the first. She climbed nearly to the boundary and accelerated faster than anyone else, her braids streaming behind her. She circled the marker in a wide turn and returned several seconds ahead of the others. Her landing was rough, but she remained on the broom.

Professor Yelton complimented her speed before instructing her to tighten the turn and begin descending earlier.

Ivan completed his run with steady control. Geoffrey flew quickly but overshot his starting point again. Theo remained near six feet and traveled at a careful pace, but he completed the entire route without losing his balance. The relief on his face suggested that was enough of a victory.

Daryan entered the final group with Riven. Ludan and Fred took two other positions, while a Pukwudgie girl stood on Daryan’s left.

Riven glanced toward him. “Try not to fall, Mutt.”

Daryan’s fingers tightened around the broom. Professor Yelton was speaking to the students behind them and did not hear.

Part of Daryan wanted to fly faster than Riven regardless of the risk. He wanted to prove that the name and Riven’s opinion meant nothing.

He remembered the lessons from the week. Professor Mercer had warned that caution and recklessness could ruin a potion in different ways. Professor Muldawny had told him that strength was not control. Professor Sylveran had taught them that surviving mattered more than attacking.

Flying demanded the same balance.

Daryan mounted his broom and focused on the silver marker at the opposite end of the courtyard.

The whistle sounded.

Riven shot forward.

Daryan pushed away and climbed. Six feet became eight, then ten as he leaned into the handle. Wind struck his face, and his robes snapped behind him. The ground moved beneath his boots in a green blur.

He rose to nearly twelve feet before leveling the broom.

For several seconds, nothing else mattered. The pressure of being Eruman’s grandson disappeared. The whispering cabinet, his incomplete transformations, and Riven’s nickname fell away. There was only the broom, the wind, and the silver marker rushing toward him.

Daryan reduced his speed before reaching it. He guided the broom into a controlled curve and began the return flight.

Riven had already completed his turn. He flew several lengths ahead, with Ludan close behind him.

Daryan leaned forward again. The broom accelerated faster than expected, and the wind pulled tears from the corners of his eyes. He passed Fred and drew even with Ludan before the starting line approached.

Riven reached it first, but he had not slowed enough. His broom struck the ground at an angle, forcing him to stumble several steps before regaining his balance.

Daryan began descending earlier. He pulled back gradually until his boots touched the grass within a few feet of his original position.

The Pukwudgie girl landed shortly after him. Fred arrived last.

Professor Yelton walked toward them.

“Mr. Bower, you were the fastest in that group, but your landing was careless. Speed means little if you cannot remain in control upon reaching your destination.”

Riven’s satisfaction disappeared.

“Mr. Marsdale, your turn was wider than necessary, but you maintained your balance and began descending at the appropriate time. Good control for a first lesson.”

“Thank you, Professor.”

“Mr. Wildes, keep both hands on the broom until your feet are on the ground. Mr. Brinks, looking behind you will not make the other students disappear.”

Professor Yelton directed them back toward the others.

Daryan passed Riven without looking at him. Winning the race would have felt good, but completing it without losing control felt better than expected.

Once every group had finished, Professor Yelton allowed the students one final flight across the courtyard without the turn. He reminded them to remain beneath the fifteen-foot boundary and warned that anyone interfering with another broom would be removed from the exercise.

Daryan pushed away from the grass again.

This time, he did not feel afraid.

He climbed beside Geoffrey until they were nearly ten feet above the courtyard. Harper raced ahead, rising close to the glowing boundary before leveling out. Ivan followed with his usual control, while Theo maintained a cautious height farther behind them.

The mountains spread beyond the courtyard walls. For the first time, Daryan could see across the tops of the nearest trees without looking through a window or standing on a tower. Cold air rushed over his face as he guided the broom from one side of the field to the other.

When Professor Yelton called them down, Daryan wished the lesson could continue.

The practice brooms returned themselves to the storage racks. Several students complained about sore legs and aching hands while walking toward the castle.

“I told you flying was going to be brilliant,” Geoffrey said. His face remained bright with excitement despite the way he moved one leg stiffly.

“You nearly flew beyond the landing area twice,” Theo reminded him.

“But I didn’t.”

“Professor Yelton stopped your broom the second time.”

“That still counts.”

Harper caught up with them, still flushed from the wind. “I was the fastest.”

“Riven was close,” Parker observed.

“Close is not faster.”

Daryan glanced toward the rows of brooms disappearing into the storage building. He understood why the Arrowmark Next-Gen had held his attention in Hushnote. He still wanted to know what it felt like to ride a racing broom, but the old school broom had been enough to show him how much he enjoyed leaving the ground.

The soreness announced itself the following morning.

Daryan lowered himself carefully into a chair near the common-room windows. Geoffrey sat across from him with one leg stretched stiffly beneath the table. Theo claimed that everything hurt, while Ivan insisted proper posture had spared him from the worst of it.

“You groaned when you came down the stairs,” Geoffrey reminded him.

Ivan arranged his parchment in a neat stack. “I was expressing sympathy for the rest of you.”

Daryan unfolded a fresh sheet and began writing to Aryanna. He told her about Charms, Potions, Transfiguration, and Flying. He explained that he had transformed part of a wooden cube and completed his first broom exercise without falling. He asked her to describe the wand that had chosen her and wanted to know which charm she planned to learn next.

In his letter to Damon, Daryan promised to protect himself from wandering keys, flying socks, and rebellious spoons when he returned home.

He did not mention the cabinet dreams.

Riven and the new nickname were left out as well. Aryanna would worry, Damon would become angry, and Dalon might decide to visit in his capacity as an Auror. Daryan did not want any of them treating a bully’s insult like an emergency.

Chip landed on the windowsill shortly after Daryan finished. The little owl chirped while Daryan tied the letters securely to his leg.

“These are for Mom and Dad. Stay close to the city and come back when you’re ready.”

Chip nipped affectionately at his finger before spreading his wings. The enchanted window opened, allowing him to fly into the clear morning.

Daryan watched until the gray owl disappeared beyond the trees. Behind him, Theo and Ivan began debating which of them had performed the better landing, while Geoffrey offered opinions neither had requested.

Daryan returned to the table and joined the conversation, his sore muscles reminding him of every turn and sudden movement from the previous afternoon. Even with the aches, he was already looking forward to their next Flying lesson.

 

 

Chapter 11

Family Day

A red maple leaf struck Geoffrey directly across the face as he crossed the eastern courtyard. It clung to his forehead for a moment before sliding down his nose and landing at his feet.

“I think the trees are attacking me,” he said, staring suspiciously at the branches overhead. “That leaf knew exactly what it was doing.”

“It was one leaf,” Daryan pointed out. He glanced toward the tree but saw nothing unusual among the red and orange branches.

Theo stepped around them and continued toward the castle. “If the trees wanted to attack you, I doubt they would begin with something that weighs less than a feather. You’re probably safe for now.”

“You don’t know how patient they are,” Geoffrey argued as he hurried after him. He looked toward Ivan for support.

Ivan glanced back at the leaf. “Perhaps it was testing the distance. A second attack would provide more useful evidence.”

“Thank you,” Geoffrey said, relieved to have someone supporting his concern. “At least Ivan understands the danger.”

September had changed Mount Greylock quickly. The forest surrounding Ilvermorny had become a mixture of red, orange, and gold, while fallen leaves gathered along the castle paths and beneath the courtyard benches. The nights were colder now, and Ivan had finally started wearing the dark green scarf his mother had sent from Canada.

The first weeks of lessons had settled into a familiar rhythm. The four boys knew which staircases offered the fastest routes between classrooms, which portraits gave reliable directions, and which suits of armor enjoyed misleading first-years. They had also learned that arriving early for breakfast provided the best chance of finding warm biscuits before the older students emptied the platters.

Daryan had grown more comfortable in his classes, although there were still moments when he became aware of professors watching him and wondered whether they were thinking about Eruman. Most of the time, he could push the concern aside and concentrate on the work in front of him. Other worries were not as easy to dismiss.

The cabinet had not appeared in his dreams again, and Daryan had begun hoping it might disappear from his thoughts entirely. Then, after Astronomy Theory one afternoon, he heard the whispering while he was awake.

He and the other Horned Serpents were returning from Professor Gravis’s classroom when Daryan noticed a narrow corridor branching from the main passage. The high arched ceiling and pale blue lanterns reminded him of the place from his dreams, causing him to slow near the entrance while his friends continued walking.

Daryan stepped into the passage. The corridor was empty, but faint voices seemed to shift behind the stone walls, speaking over one another in a tangled murmur that made the words impossible to understand.

He moved closer to the wall. One whisper separated from the others and spoke his name.

“Daryan.”

Cold moved through him. Before he could decide whether to answer, Geoffrey called his name from the main corridor, and the whispering abruptly stopped.

Daryan turned to find Geoffrey, Theo, and Ivan waiting at the intersection. Concern had replaced the usual amusement in Geoffrey’s expression.

“What are you doing?” Geoffrey asked. He looked past Daryan into the empty passage.

“I thought I heard something.” Daryan listened for the voices again, but only the distant sounds of students moving through the castle reached him.

Ivan stepped closer to the corridor. “What did it sound like? Was someone speaking?”

“I don’t know. It was probably someone talking in a nearby classroom.” Daryan glanced toward the bare walls and hoped his answer sounded more convincing than it felt.

“There aren’t any classrooms down there,” Theo said. He studied Daryan’s face before looking into the passage again. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I’m fine,” Daryan insisted. The warning bell rang before Geoffrey could question him further, forcing all four boys to hurry toward their next lesson.

Daryan considered telling them about the voice. He imagined Geoffrey insisting they find a professor, followed by Eruman learning that his grandson had heard his name whispered from an empty wall. By the time they reached the classroom, Daryan had decided to keep the experience to himself.

Several days later, Eruman announced Family Day at the end of dinner. The Headmaster rose from his place at the faculty table and waited for the conversations throughout the Great Hall to fade, while the enchanted ceiling above him displayed a cloudless night filled with stars.

“On the final Saturday of this month, Ilvermorny will welcome your families for our first Family Day of the academic year,” he announced. “Registered visitors will arrive through assigned Portkeys beginning at nine o’clock in the morning. Departures will occur before six that evening.”

Excited conversation immediately spread through the house tables. Eruman allowed it to continue for a few seconds before raising one hand and waiting for the students to quiet again.

“Visitors will be permitted in the Great Hall, approved classrooms, the main courtyards, the greenhouses, the owlery, and the house common rooms while accompanied by a student or member of staff,” he continued. “Restricted sections of the castle will remain restricted, regardless of how persuasive your relatives believe themselves to be.”

Several older students laughed. Eruman’s restrained smile suggested that some of their families had tested the restrictions in previous years.

“I will remain available throughout the day for families who wish to discuss Ilvermorny, magical education, or the welfare of their children,” he added. “Visitor-registration forms and additional information will be delivered tomorrow morning.”

Daryan turned toward Geoffrey as Eruman returned to his seat. His friend was already grinning at the thought of seeing Emily.

“Mom will come,” Geoffrey said with complete certainty. “She wouldn’t miss it.”

“So will mine,” Daryan replied. He knew Aryanna and Damon would find a way to attend, and he hoped Dalon would join them as well.

The confirmations began arriving the following morning. Aryanna wrote that she and Damon had already arranged time away from work, Dalon planned to travel with them, and Emily had registered to accompany Geoffrey.

Theo’s parents, Deedra and Kevin, would attend together. Marisol promised to meet them in the reception courtyard when they arrived.

Ivan received a longer letter from Canada. He read it twice before folding it carefully and placing it beside his breakfast plate.

“My mom is coming, but my dad can’t,” Ivan told the others. His disappointment was quiet, but Daryan heard it beneath his otherwise calm voice.

“I’m sorry,” Daryan said. He knew Ivan had hoped to show both of his parents the castle.

“He tried to take the day off, but something is interfering with the protective enchantments around one of the Canadian Ministry buildings,” Ivan explained. “His department needs him there.”

“That sounds serious,” Theo said, glancing at the folded letter. “Is he going to be safe?”

“He maintains the wards. He isn’t supposed to confront whatever caused the problem.” Ivan ran one thumb along the edge of the parchment. “I still wish he could come.”

“Maybe he can come to the next Family Day,” Geoffrey offered. He reached for another piece of toast but left the last biscuit for Ivan.

Ivan nodded and pulled the biscuit toward his plate. “Mom says she’s bringing a letter from him and enough food to embarrass me in front of everyone.”

“That sounds like something my mother would do,” Theo said. He glanced toward Marisol at the Pukwudgie table as if wondering whether she had received a similar warning.

“She already sends you food,” Geoffrey reminded him. “There was enough cinnamon bread in the last package for the entire dormitory.”

“It was a reasonable amount,” Theo argued. He immediately lost Ivan’s support when he added, “Everyone finished it.”

“That does not make the amount reasonable,” Ivan said. He spread jam across the biscuit his friends had left for him.

The night before Family Day, the four boys cleaned their dormitory more thoroughly than they had since arriving. Daryan arranged his books on the shelf beside his bed and stored his Potions equipment inside his trunk, while Geoffrey attempted to push several unfolded robes beneath his bed.

Snowbird descended from the wardrobe, seized one sleeve in his beak, and dragged the entire pile back into view. Geoffrey stared at the snowy owl as though he had been personally betrayed.

“Whose side are you on?” Geoffrey demanded. Snowbird released the robe and turned his head away without offering an explanation.

“Your mother’s,” Ivan answered from across the room. He was folding his blankets for the second time, although he continued claiming that he did not care what Poretta thought of the dormitory.

Theo inspected the area around his bed with increasing concern. He crouched to look beneath the frame before checking the surface of his bedside table.

“What are you looking for?” Daryan asked. He could not see anything more embarrassing than several crumpled pieces of parchment.

“Anything my parents might find embarrassing,” Theo replied. His frown deepened when he opened one of his drawers.

“Like what?” Daryan asked. He was beginning to wonder whether Theo had hidden something interesting.

“If I knew, I would have removed it already.” Theo shut the drawer and began inspecting the curtains instead.

Chip observed the activity from Daryan’s bedpost. When Daryan opened a drawer to put away several pairs of socks, the little owl swooped down, seized one, and flew through the open dormitory door.

“Chip!” Daryan hurried after him, with Geoffrey and Theo close behind. Ivan followed more slowly, apparently confident that the chase would return to them eventually.

Chip circled the crystal fountain with the sock hanging from his beak while several older Horned Serpents laughed. Geoffrey and Theo attempted to block the owl near one of the sofas, but Chip changed direction at the last moment and flew over their heads.

Ivan calmly crossed the common room and opened one of the enchanted windows. Chip immediately landed on the frame to investigate the rush of cool air, allowing Daryan to recover the sock from his beak.

“You are not helping,” Daryan told him. Chip bowed as though he had accomplished something important before hopping onto Daryan’s shoulder.

Saturday morning arrived clear and cool. The four boys ate a hurried breakfast before joining the students moving toward the reception courtyard.

Faculty members and Pukwudgies had arranged several marked arrival areas across the stone. Ropes separated the Portkey circles, while tables near the entrance held visitor badges and maps of the approved portions of the castle.

Eruman stood near the middle of the courtyard with several members of the faculty. His blue-and-cranberry robes moved lightly in the autumn breeze as he welcomed the first arrivals.

When the brass clock above the doors reached nine, the Portkeys began activating. Families appeared inside the marked circles, some stumbling upon arrival while others stepped away with the practiced balance of experienced magical travelers.

Students called to their parents, younger siblings searched the courtyard with wide eyes, and several owls circled overhead in search of familiar faces. Daryan watched each new group until a flash of silver light appeared near the third marker.

Aryanna arrived beside Damon without stumbling. Damon took one unsteady step before recovering, while Dalon appeared on their other side and steadied Emily by the arm as the Portkey released them.

“Mom! Dad!” Daryan ran across the courtyard before they had moved away from the arrival circle.

Aryanna barely had time to turn before he threw his arms around her. She held him tightly and pressed her face against his hair.

“Oh, I missed you,” she whispered. Her hands moved across his back as though she needed to assure herself that he was truly there.

“I missed you too,” Daryan said. The familiar sound of her voice made the weeks since leaving Nashville suddenly feel much longer.

Damon wrapped both of them in his arms. When Aryanna finally released Daryan, Damon held him by the shoulders and inspected him from head to toe.

“What are you doing?” Daryan asked. He looked down at his robes to see whether something was wrong.

“Making certain the school returned all the parts we sent.” Damon checked Daryan’s arms before looking toward his feet.

“Dad,” Daryan complained, trying not to laugh.

“They teach you to fly on broomsticks. A father is allowed to count.” Damon appeared satisfied and pulled him into another embrace.

Aryanna touched the golden Gordian Knot clasp beneath Daryan’s collar. Her eyes shone as she looked over his school robes.

“You look wonderful,” she said. She smoothed one side of his collar even though it was already straight.

Dalon waited until Damon stepped aside before pulling Daryan into a firm hug. His traveling coat smelled faintly of cold air and the leather used for his wand holster.

“There’s my favorite nephew,” Dalon said. His smile widened when Daryan looked up at him.

“I’m still your only nephew,” Daryan reminded him. Dalon had used the same joke for most of his life.

“That may be contributing to your success.” Dalon ruffled his hair before releasing him.

Geoffrey rushed past them and embraced Emily. Snowbird descended from above and landed upon her shoulder with enough force to make her shift sideways.

Emily laughed and smoothed the feathers along his chest. “It’s good to see you too. I hope you have been behaving better for Geoffrey than you do for me.”

Snowbird stared at her with dignified silence. Geoffrey’s expression suggested that the answer was complicated.

Chip flew directly to Aryanna. He landed upon her shoulder, chirping so rapidly that she could barely respond.

“I missed you, little man,” Aryanna told him. Chip rubbed his head against her hair before pecking affectionately at her ear.

Daryan noticed the slender wand secured inside a holder at her side. He stepped closer and pointed toward it.

“Is that your wand?” he asked. He had imagined it several times since reading her letter.

Aryanna’s smile changed. Wonder entered her expression as she removed the wand and held it across both palms.

The wood was a warm golden brown, with a slightly darker handle that curved naturally into her grip. Delicate lines ran through the polished surface like thin threads of copper.

“What kind is it?” Daryan asked. He leaned closer without touching it.

“Hawthorn with a unicorn hair core. Ten and three-quarter inches.” Aryanna turned it slightly so the sunlight moved across the polished wood.

“It suits you,” Daryan decided. The wand looked natural in her hands, even though she had only possessed it for a few weeks.

“That is what the wandmaker said.” Aryanna returned it carefully to its holder.

Eruman approached from the center of the courtyard. Although he carried himself with the formal dignity of the Headmaster, his expression softened as soon as he looked at Aryanna.

“Welcome to Ilvermorny,” he said. His attention remained upon her as he stopped in front of the family.

Aryanna hesitated for only a moment before stepping into his open arms. “I’m glad to be here, Grandfather.”

Eruman held her close. “I am glad you came. I have wanted you to see this place for a very long time.”

He greeted Damon, Dalon, and Emily before turning toward Daryan and Geoffrey. A hint of amusement entered his expression when he noticed how impatiently they were waiting to begin the tour.

“I trust the two of you have prepared a thorough tour,” Eruman said. He looked toward the castle doors as though estimating how much of the school they might attempt to cover.

“We have, Headmaster,” Daryan answered. Geoffrey nodded beside him.

“Try not to show them the entire castle before lunch,” Eruman advised. “Several sections move, and I would prefer not to search for your families after dark.”

He continued toward another arrival circle, where a nervous No-Maj family had appeared with two younger children. Daryan watched him greet them with the same patience and warmth he had shown Aryanna and Damon.

A woman appeared near the Canadian marker carrying an overstuffed traveling bag. She had Ivan’s dark blond hair and wore a deep blue cloak fastened with a silver serpent brooch.

“Mom!” Ivan hurried toward her, moving faster than Daryan had ever seen him travel outside a classroom.

Poretta Kiljoy dropped the bag and wrapped both arms around him. “My boy! Let me look at you.”

“Mom, everyone can see,” Ivan protested. His face reddened, but he hugged her back.

“They should see me hug you. That way they know someone will come looking for them if they mistreat you.” Poretta held him at arm’s length and examined his robes.

“Horned Serpent,” she said proudly. Her gaze settled upon the clasp beneath his collar. “I knew you had good judgment.”

“You told me every house was respectable,” Ivan reminded her. He already sounded suspicious of where the conversation was going.

“They are. Horned Serpent happens to be the most respectable.” Poretta removed a folded letter from inside her cloak and handed it to him.

“Your father wrote this for you. He is furious that he could not attend.” Her tone softened as Ivan accepted the letter.

“Is everything all right at his office?” Ivan asked. He looked at the envelope but did not open it yet.

“They will survive, largely because he is there to prevent them from making the problem worse.” Poretta picked up the overstuffed bag and nearly lost her grip when several wrapped packages shifted inside.

Daryan and the others approached. Ivan introduced Poretta to each of them, beginning with his roommates before moving to Harper and Parker.

“I am very pleased to meet you,” Poretta said. “Ivan has written so much about his new friends that Eric and I already feel as though we know all of you.”

Alarm entered Ivan’s face. “What did I write?”

“That would be between your father, me, and every relative to whom I forwarded your letters.” Poretta smiled innocently while Ivan appeared to reconsider everything he had ever sent home.

Before he could respond, another Portkey activated. Deedra Vega appeared first, followed by Kevin, who arrived gripping the Portkey with both hands.

Deedra was a dark-haired witch with the same warm brown eyes as Theo and Marisol. She caught Kevin by the arm when he stumbled forward.

“I still hate those things,” Kevin said as he straightened. He looked back at the Portkey as though it had personally offended him.

“You say that every time,” Deedra reminded him. She released his arm once she was certain he could stand.

Marisol rushed across the courtyard to greet them. Theo followed more slowly until Deedra pulled him into a tight embrace.

“Look at you!” she exclaimed. She drew back and immediately examined his face. “Are you eating enough?”

“Yes, Mom,” Theo assured her. He glanced toward his friends, who were trying not to smile.

“Are you sleeping?” Deedra continued. She brushed a piece of hair away from his forehead.

“Yes,” Theo answered again. He appeared to realize that resistance would only prolong the examination.

“Have you been keeping warm?” Deedra asked. Her attention moved toward the open collar of his robe.

“It’s September,” Theo pointed out. His expression became resigned when his mother raised an eyebrow.

“That was not my question,” Deedra replied. She adjusted his collar herself before allowing Kevin to greet him.

Kevin embraced Theo and rested both hands on his shoulders. “You doing all right?”

Theo nodded. “I haven’t ruined a potion yet.”

Kevin’s expression tightened with concern. “Was that a possibility?”

“It’s a possibility for everyone,” Theo explained. He did not appear to realize that this answer offered little reassurance.

“Why didn’t you put that in your letters?” Kevin asked. His concern deepened as he glanced toward the castle.

“Because then you would ask questions,” Theo admitted. He looked toward Marisol for help, but she was too amused to intervene.

Kevin regarded him patiently. “That is what parents do. You do not avoid the questions by giving us less information.”

Once everyone had arrived, Daryan and Geoffrey brought the families together. Daryan introduced Theo, Marisol, Deedra, and Kevin before bringing Aryanna and Damon to meet Ivan and Poretta.

Harper and Parker joined them after greeting their own family near another Portkey circle. Harper appeared ready to begin the tour immediately, while Parker carried Bramble carefully in both hands.

Aryanna smiled as she looked among Daryan’s friends. “He has written about all of you. Thank you for looking after one another.”

“We haven’t had to rescue him from anything yet,” Harper said. Her tone made it sound as though she expected that to change.

Parker glanced toward his sister. “That does not mean you should sound disappointed.”

“I’m not disappointed,” Harper argued. “I’m prepared.”

Dalon studied the students with amusement. “Which one of you is responsible for keeping Daryan and Geoffrey out of trouble?”

Ivan lifted one hand slightly. “Nobody has agreed to accept that responsibility. The workload appeared unreasonable.”

“You were the most likely candidate,” Theo told him. He sounded as though Ivan had failed to meet an important obligation.

“I recognized the risk before signing anything,” Ivan replied. His mother nodded approvingly.

Emily laughed while Geoffrey objected that he had not caused any serious trouble since arriving. Snowbird remained on her shoulder and offered no support for his claim.

The students began the tour by leading their families through the eastern side of the castle toward the Horned Serpent common room. Poretta recognized several passages before Ivan could explain where they were going.

“That staircase used to complain whenever anyone stepped on it,” she said, pointing toward a broad wooden staircase ahead. “It had an excellent singing voice when it was particularly irritated.”

“It doesn’t do that now,” Ivan replied. He looked at the staircase as though seeing it differently.

“Shame,” Poretta said. “The castle loses a little character every time someone repairs something.”

They stopped in front of the carved wooden door bearing the crystal serpent. The silver creature uncoiled from the wood and regarded the visitors with glowing blue eyes.

“What may be given only once but kept for a lifetime?” it asked. The serpent’s voice moved through the surrounding wood.

Ivan drew breath to answer, but Poretta spoke first. “A promise.”

The serpent lowered its head, and the door opened. Ivan stared at his mother while she stepped across the threshold.

“I knew that,” he told her. His annoyance was weakened by the pride in his expression.

“I belonged to Horned Serpent long before you did,” Poretta reminded him. She entered the common room with a satisfied smile.

“You could have let me answer,” Ivan said as he followed her. He closed the door behind the rest of the visitors.

“I could have,” Poretta agreed. She did not sound sorry.

The visitors spread through the circular room. Morning sunlight streamed through the arched windows and moved across the blue-and-cranberry rugs, while the crystal fountain glowed softly at the center.

Poretta approached the fountain and placed one hand against its edge. Memories softened her expression as she watched the light moving through the water.

“It looks almost exactly the same,” she said. “I spent seven years doing my homework beside this fountain.”

Ivan joined her. “You remember it that clearly?”

“I also fell into it during my second year,” Poretta admitted. She quickly looked toward the shelves as though the books had become more interesting.

“How?” Ivan asked. His attention sharpened immediately.

“The important part of the story is that I climbed out.” Poretta walked away from the fountain before he could question her further.

The boys led everyone upstairs to their dormitory. Aryanna looked over Daryan’s bed, trunk, and carefully arranged books.

“You’ve kept everything surprisingly organized,” she said. Her eyes moved toward the shelf where his textbooks had been arranged according to size.

“We cleaned last night,” Daryan admitted. He saw no reason to accept praise under false circumstances.

“I suspected as much.” Aryanna smiled and straightened a book that did not need to be adjusted.

Damon crossed to the window and looked down at the forest covering the mountainside. “You left this view out of your letters.”

“There’s a lot to write about,” Daryan told him. He joined his father near the glass.

Poretta noticed the star chart beside Ivan’s bed. She examined the labeled constellations before looking at him with quiet pride.

“Your father would have enjoyed seeing this,” she said. Her fingers moved carefully over one corner of the parchment.

“I’ll draw the room for him,” Ivan decided. “I can show him where everything is and mark the direction of the windows.”

“He would like that.” Poretta placed an arm around his shoulders and drew him closer.

Geoffrey showed Emily Snowbird’s preferred place on top of the wardrobe. Theo introduced Deedra and Kevin to the enchanted curtains surrounding his bed, although he warned them not to test the screaming charm while everyone remained in the room.

After leaving the common room, the students guided their families through the approved areas of Ilvermorny. They visited Professor Vale’s Charms classroom, where the enchanted dancing chair bowed to each visitor.

Damon attempted to copy one of its steps. The chair spun on two legs and kicked the others into the air, but Damon only made it halfway around before Aryanna caught his arm.

“Before you injure yourself in front of Daryan’s professor, we should continue the tour,” she told him. Damon allowed himself to be guided toward the door.

Professor Rosloe welcomed them into the greenhouses but warned everyone not to touch the plants without permission. The humming nettles produced a pleasant chord when Daryan approached.

The plant Geoffrey had mishandled during their first lesson released a sharp, disapproving note as he passed. Geoffrey stopped and stared at it.

“I think it remembers me,” he said. He moved farther from its table.

Professor Rosloe looked up from a tray of seedlings. “It does. Humming nettles are very slow to forgive.”

At the owlery, Chip moved repeatedly between Daryan and his parents as though unable to decide who required his attention most. Snowbird remained beside Emily and allowed her to smooth his feathers while he watched every other owl with quiet disapproval.

The tour eventually brought them to the gallery outside the Great Hall. Portraits of former Ilvermorny headmasters and headmistresses leaned from their frames to observe the visiting families.

Several recognized Poretta and called greetings to her. She answered some enthusiastically and pretended not to hear others.

Daryan slowed near the portrait of Isolt Sayre and James Steward. The painted couple stood together outside their original stone cottage, with Isolt arranging flowers beside the doorway while James worked at a wooden table.

Isolt looked up when Daryan approached. A smile spread across her face as she stepped closer to the front of the painting and raised one hand in greeting.

Daryan waved before turning toward Aryanna. “She sometimes smiles and waves at me when I pass.”

“Does she?” Aryanna moved closer to the portrait. Her voice became quieter when Isolt’s attention shifted toward her.

The founder studied Aryanna for several seconds before placing one hand over her heart. Her expression softened, and she extended the same hand toward Aryanna in a welcoming gesture.

“Is she looking at me?” Aryanna asked. She remained beside Daryan, afraid that moving might break the moment.

“I think she knows who you are,” Daryan answered. Isolt nodded as though she had heard him.

James moved beside his wife and turned toward Damon. He touched one hand to his chest before offering a respectful bow.

Damon returned the gesture. He appeared more affected by the acknowledgement than he wanted anyone to notice.

Aryanna raised her hand toward Isolt. The founder answered with a gentle wave, and tears appeared in Aryanna’s eyes.

Daryan slipped his hand into hers. They stood quietly before the portrait until Isolt returned to her flowers, although she continued glancing toward Aryanna and Daryan with a warm smile.

Lunch was served in the Great Hall at noon. The usual house seating rules were relaxed for Family Day, allowing students to sit with their visitors and friends.

Daryan’s group occupied a large section near the middle of the hall. Platters of roasted meats, soups, salads, sandwiches, vegetables, and fresh bread appeared along the tables, while pitchers moved between the dishes and filled glasses whenever anyone lifted one.

Damon removed the top slice of bread from his sandwich and examined what was beneath it. Daryan watched him for several seconds before asking what he was doing.

“Evaluating the construction,” Damon answered. He checked the distribution of meat and cheese with unnecessary seriousness.

“It’s a sandwich, Dad,” Daryan reminded him. He could already see Aryanna trying not to smile.

“That is exactly why standards matter.” Damon replaced the bread and took a bite.

Kevin Vega laughed from across the table. “Theo said you own a deli.”

“I do,” Damon confirmed. He considered the sandwich before nodding. “The ingredients are good. The bread is a little thick.”

“You don’t have to review everything you eat,” Aryanna told him. Her amusement made the correction less convincing.

“Years of professional training cannot simply be turned off,” Damon explained. He took another bite before anyone could challenge his reasoning.

Kevin’s amusement softened as he looked toward Theo and Marisol. “I thought having one child here would prepare me for the second. Instead, I realized there are still entire parts of their lives I don’t understand.”

Deedra rested a hand on his arm. “You understand more than you think. You’re the person they both speak to when they need to work something out.”

“Enough to know when I’m confused,” Kevin replied. He looked toward Damon with the cautious recognition of someone who suspected the other man might understand.

“I grew up around magic, and there are still things I can’t explain,” Damon admitted. “Being familiar with the magical world isn’t the same as knowing what it feels like to use magic.”

Kevin glanced toward Theo, who was listening while pretending to be occupied with his lunch. “Sometimes I worry I won’t know how to help if something goes wrong.”

“You’ll listen,” Damon told him. His humor faded as he spoke, leaving the steadiness beneath it. “That matters more than having every answer.”

Kevin’s shoulders relaxed slightly. Deedra squeezed his arm before returning to her conversation with Aryanna and Poretta.

Aryanna wrote the Marsdales’ telephone number on several pieces of paper, while Poretta provided both a telephone number and instructions for reaching the Kiljoy family by owl. The mothers compared the fastest ways to contact one another if any of the children needed help.

“I have access to modern communication,” Poretta informed Dalon when he expressed surprise at how quickly she wrote the number from memory. “Canada is not frozen in the nineteenth century.”

“I never said it was,” Dalon replied. His expression suggested he understood the danger of arguing.

“You were thinking it loudly,” Poretta told him. Ivan lowered his face to conceal a smile.

By the end of lunch, the parents were speaking as comfortably as the students. Aryanna laughed with Deedra and Poretta, while Damon and Kevin compared their experiences as No-Maj fathers in magical families.

Emily and Dalon sat near the end of the table. Their conversation had become quieter than the others, and neither appeared to notice how often they leaned closer to hear one another.

Geoffrey noticed. He nudged Daryan with his elbow and directed his attention toward them.

“Your uncle likes my mom,” Geoffrey whispered. His expression contained more curiosity than concern.

“I know,” Daryan replied. Dalon had not been particularly skilled at concealing it.

“Does she like him?” Geoffrey asked. He watched Emily smile at something Dalon said.

“I think so,” Daryan answered. Emily lightly touched Dalon’s arm before returning her hand to the table.

Geoffrey considered the situation. “Should we do anything?”

“You could ask her,” Daryan suggested. He immediately saw the idea disappear from Geoffrey’s face.

“I meant something less dangerous,” Geoffrey said. He returned his attention to his dessert before Emily could notice him staring.

After lunch, the families moved into one of the smaller courtyards. The autumn sun had warmed the stone, and red leaves drifted from the trees along its edges.

Aryanna watched one leaf settle near her feet before removing her wand. “I want to show you something.”

She extended the wand toward the leaf and performed the movement carefully. When she spoke the incantation for Wingardium Leviosa, the leaf trembled against the stone.

It lifted several inches before tilting sideways. Aryanna corrected the angle of her wand, and the leaf rose to the height of Daryan’s chest.

“You did it,” Daryan said. His face brightened as she guided the leaf toward him.

Aryanna carried it through the air in a slow circle before lowering it into his open hand. Her control remained uneven, but the leaf settled safely against his palm.

“I still send things in the wrong direction sometimes,” she admitted. She looked at her wand with a mixture of pride and disbelief.

“Everyone does that when they’re learning,” Daryan assured her. He had seen enough mistakes in Charms to know it was true.

“You sound like Emily,” Aryanna said. She glanced toward their neighbor beneath one of the nearby trees.

“She’s usually right,” Daryan replied. Emily turned toward him after hearing her name.

Damon looked at her with exaggerated concern. “Please don’t tell Emily he said that. She’ll become impossible to live beside.”

“I heard you,” Emily called from across the courtyard. Her expression made it clear that she had no intention of forgetting.

“That saves us the trouble,” Dalon replied. Emily laughed and lightly pushed his shoulder.

Eruman approached the courtyard with several visitor badges tucked beneath one arm. He stopped when he noticed the leaf resting in Daryan’s palm.

“A controlled levitation,” he said. Approval warmed his voice as he looked toward Aryanna. “Very good.”

“I nearly sent it into the tree before you arrived,” Aryanna admitted. She returned the wand to her holder.

“Then you corrected it.” Eruman removed a small cream-colored card from an inner pocket and offered it to her.

“This belongs to an instructor in Boston who specializes in teaching adults whose magical education began late,” he explained. “I spoke with her after receiving your letter. She is willing to meet you whenever you feel ready.”

Aryanna accepted the card and read the name printed across its surface. “You arranged this already?”

“I asked whether she had room for another student,” Eruman clarified. “The decision remains yours.”

Aryanna slipped the card carefully into her purse. “I would like to speak with her.”

“I believe you will find her patient and thorough,” Eruman said. His expression softened before he returned to greeting the other visiting families.

Daryan watched him leave. Aryanna still had much to learn, but she no longer had to depend entirely upon whatever Dalon and Emily could teach her between work and family responsibilities.

The flying demonstration began later that afternoon. Professor Yelton had transformed the western training courtyard into an obstacle course.

Silver hoops floated at different heights across the field, and tall poles marked a curving path toward a wooden frame at the far end. Blue ribbons hung from the frame, shifting in the wind, while a glowing boundary stretched fifteen feet above the grass.

The visiting families gathered behind the silver lines while the first-years selected their school brooms. Poretta stood with Aryanna and Damon near the boundary, Deedra and Kevin watched beside Marisol, and Emily moved closer so Geoffrey could see her.

Professor Yelton stood in the center of the courtyard with his flying goggles resting around his neck. Once everyone was ready, he raised his voice above the conversations surrounding the field.

“This demonstration is intended to show the control your children have developed,” he announced. “It is not a race, regardless of what several students have already decided.”

Harper slowly lowered her hand. Parker looked toward her but wisely chose not to comment.

“You will follow the marked course, pass through all three hoops, retrieve one ribbon, and return for a controlled landing,” Professor Yelton continued. “The boundary charm will prevent the brooms from rising above fifteen feet. Anyone attempting to leave the course will discover that the broom has stronger opinions than they do.”

Harper volunteered to go first. She pushed away from the ground and accelerated toward the first hoop, her braids streaming behind her as she climbed toward the second.

Professor Yelton raised one hand when she leaned sharply around the first silver pole. “Control the turn, Miss Pointe. The pole has done nothing to deserve your anger.”

Harper widened the next curve without losing much speed. She reached the wooden frame, snatched a ribbon, and completed the return course before landing several feet from where she began.

She lifted the ribbon above her head. “That was fast.”

Parker applauded from the line. “You know it wasn’t a race.”

“I was still the fastest,” Harper replied. She appeared pleased with herself despite having been the only student to complete the course.

“No one else has flown yet,” Parker reminded her. He shifted Bramble’s padded basket farther from the edge of the field.

“That makes me the fastest so far,” Harper answered. Professor Yelton directed her away from the landing area before the debate could continue.

Ivan approached the course methodically. He adjusted his height before every hoop and followed the curves with such precise movements that Professor Yelton complimented his planning.

Theo’s flight was slower. He passed through the first hoop, approached the second, and hesitated when the broom rose toward the upper boundary.

Deedra gripped Kevin’s hand. Theo looked down, immediately regretted it, and returned his attention to the course.

He guided the broom through the remaining hoop, retrieved his ribbon, and landed without losing his balance. Deedra cheered loudly enough to make him blush.

Kevin cupped his hands around his mouth. “You did brilliantly!”

Theo carried his broom back to the line. “They’re never going to let me forget this.”

“You stayed on the broom,” Ivan reminded him. “That is worth remembering.”

Geoffrey flew next. He approached the first hoop too quickly, corrected his path just before reaching it, and completed the rest of the course without leaving the marked route.

His landing carried him several feet beyond the indicated position, but he remained upright. Emily applauded while Snowbird circled above her.

Professor Yelton sent Parker through the course next. Parker did not match Harper’s speed, but he moved comfortably through the hoops and kept the broom steady through every turn.

When Parker returned, Harper met him near the line. “You could have gone faster.”

“I could also have struck a pole,” Parker replied. He returned his broom to the ground with careful control.

“You weren’t close to any of them,” Harper pointed out. She sounded disappointed by his refusal to take unnecessary risks.

“That was intentional,” Parker said. He returned to Bramble without continuing the argument.

Daryan waited for Professor Yelton to call his name. He carried his broom toward the starting mark, but Riven reached the line from the opposite side and stopped near him.

Riven’s attention moved briefly toward Aryanna and Damon. A smile appeared when he realized Daryan’s family was close enough to watch.

“Ready to embarrass yourself in front of your family, Mutt?” Riven asked quietly. He kept his voice low enough that Professor Yelton would not hear.

Daryan’s fingers tightened around the broom handle. Before he could respond, Dalon spoke from behind the boundary.

“What did he call you?” Dalon’s voice was calm, but the warmth had disappeared from it.

Riven’s confidence faltered. Daryan looked toward his uncle and saw that Dalon had moved closer to the silver line.

Professor Yelton noticed the interruption. “Is there a problem, Mr. Marsdale?”

Daryan glanced from the professor to Riven. “No, Professor. I’m ready.”

Yelton studied both boys before pointing Riven toward the waiting area. “Then Mr. Bower can give you room to begin.”

Riven walked away without looking at Dalon. Daryan mounted his broom and waited for Professor Yelton’s signal.

The silver whistle sounded, and Daryan pushed away from the grass. He entered the first hoop at five feet before leaning forward and climbing toward the second.

The broom responded immediately, carrying him close to the fifteen-foot boundary. Aryanna inhaled sharply, but Daryan kept his attention on the next hoop.

He reduced his speed before passing through it and guided the broom around the silver poles. The movements felt easier than they had during his first Flying lesson, and he no longer had to think about every shift of his weight or adjustment of the handle.

Daryan reached the wooden frame and removed one of the blue ribbons. On the return course, a sudden gust pushed the broom sideways.

He tilted toward one of the poles, corrected his balance, and guided the broom through the final hoop. After reducing his speed, he descended toward the landing area.

His boots touched the grass, and the broom settled beneath him without dragging him forward. Damon’s cheer immediately echoed across the courtyard.

Daryan looked toward him. “You promised not to do that again.”

“I promised nothing,” Damon called back. He applauded even louder when several nearby families laughed.

Aryanna clapped beside him, relief visible across her face. Professor Yelton approached Daryan and examined the ribbon in his hand.

“You corrected well after the wind caught you,” the professor said. “Your final descent was controlled. Good work, Mr. Marsdale.”

“Thank you, Professor.” Daryan carried the broom back to the rack before joining his family.

Dalon waited until Aryanna and Damon began speaking with Professor Yelton before drawing Daryan several steps away. His attention briefly followed Riven across the courtyard.

“How often does Bower call you that?” Dalon asked. His expression made it clear that he expected an honest answer.

Daryan looked down at the ribbon in his hand. “Sometimes.”

“That is not an answer.” Dalon folded his arms and waited.

“A few times since the first week,” Daryan admitted. He glanced toward Riven, who was speaking with Ludan and Fred.

“Has he threatened you?” Dalon asked. His voice remained controlled.

“No,” Daryan answered. He knew where the questions were going.

“Touched you, used magic against you, or interfered with your belongings?” Dalon continued. His gaze remained fixed on Daryan.

“No. He only says things.” Daryan folded the ribbon between his fingers.

Dalon’s expression remained serious. “Words can still cause harm. I’m not telling you to run to a professor after every unpleasant comment, but I want you to understand the difference between handling a problem and hiding one.”

“I can deal with Riven,” Daryan insisted. He did not want the situation becoming larger because an Auror had become involved.

“I believe you,” Dalon said. He rested one hand on Daryan’s shoulder. “I also want your word that you will tell someone if he threatens you, touches you, uses magic against you, interferes with your things, or begins treating anyone else the same way.”

Daryan hesitated. Dalon noticed and tightened his hand slightly.

“Your parents, a professor, Eruman, or me,” Dalon continued. “It does not matter which one. You choose the person, but you tell someone.”

“All right,” Daryan said. He could tell that the answer did not satisfy his uncle.

“I need more than that,” Dalon told him. His tone remained gentle but firm.

Daryan met his eyes. “I promise.”

Some of the tension left Dalon’s face. He squeezed Daryan’s shoulder before releasing him.

“You flew well,” Dalon added. Pride replaced some of the concern in his expression.

“You were watching?” Daryan asked. He had assumed Dalon was speaking with Emily.

“I saw everything,” Dalon assured him. His brief glance toward Riven gave the words another meaning.

The final hours of Family Day passed quickly. Poretta eventually found Eruman near the Horned Serpent entrance and greeted him with the confidence of a former student who had once known the castle almost as well as he did.

“It has been a long time, Headmaster,” she said. She adjusted the silver serpent brooch fastening her cloak.

“Ilvermorny is pleased to welcome you back, Mrs. Kiljoy.” Eruman inclined his head respectfully.

“I was Poretta Vane when I attended,” she reminded him. Her expression suggested she did not expect him to remember.

Eruman regarded her with polite amusement. “I remember. You attempted to enchant the library ladders into racing one another.”

Ivan stared at his mother. Poretta cleared her throat and looked toward one of the nearby windows.

“I had forgotten about that,” she said. She suddenly became interested in the courtyard beyond the glass.

“The librarian had not, even after she retired,” Eruman replied. His restraint made the memory sound even more entertaining.

“I was fourteen,” Poretta reminded him. She looked toward Ivan as though daring him to comment.

“You were creative,” Eruman said. He did not clarify whether the statement was intended as praise.

Poretta appeared uncertain how to respond. Eruman spared her further embarrassment by asking her to give Eric his regards and expressing hope that he would attend the next Family Day.

As six o’clock approached, faculty members directed visitors toward the marked departure areas. Students gathered near their families, stretching the remaining minutes for as long as possible.

Poretta embraced Ivan tightly. She ignored his embarrassment while smoothing his hair away from his forehead.

“Write to your father tonight,” she told him. “He will be waiting.”

“I will,” Ivan promised. He held the unopened letter securely in one hand.

“And keep wearing the scarf,” Poretta added. She adjusted it around his neck.

“I’m wearing it now,” Ivan pointed out. He accepted the kiss she pressed against his forehead.

“That proves you are capable of following good advice.” Poretta held him for another moment. “We are proud of you. Both of us.”

Deedra hugged Theo and Marisol together. Kevin waited until she released them before placing a hand on Theo’s shoulder.

“If anything here frightens or confuses you, you can tell us,” he said. His attention moved between both of his children. “I may not understand every part of the magic, but I can still listen.”

Theo nodded. “I know. I’ll write if something happens.”

Emily held Geoffrey tightly while Snowbird remained on her shoulder. She kissed his forehead before stepping back.

“Take care of yourself,” she told him. Her attention moved toward Daryan. “And take care of each other.”

“We will,” Geoffrey promised. He remained close to her until Dalon approached.

Dalon embraced Daryan before saying goodbye to Geoffrey. Emily stepped toward the departure marker, and Dalon placed one hand lightly against her back as they moved through the crowd.

Geoffrey watched them. He leaned closer to Daryan once they were far enough away.

“I’m going to ask her,” Geoffrey whispered. His determination lasted until Dalon looked back.

“When?” Daryan asked. He tried not to smile at his friend’s sudden hesitation.

“Not while he can hear me,” Geoffrey decided. He moved toward Emily before the Portkey began glowing.

Damon pulled Daryan into his arms. “Study hard, but don’t spend every minute with your face inside a book. You’re allowed to enjoy yourself.”

“I will,” Daryan promised. He hugged his father tightly before turning toward Aryanna.

Aryanna held him last. She smoothed his hair away from his forehead and looked around the reception courtyard.

“I was worried because I couldn’t picture what your life here would be like,” she admitted. “Now I’ve seen your room, your classes, and your friends. I know what you mean when you write about this place.”

“I still miss home,” Daryan told her. The thought of returning to the dormitory without them made the courtyard feel colder.

“You should miss us,” Aryanna said. She smiled and pulled him closer again.

Daryan nearly told her about the whispering corridor. He could explain the dreams, the cabinet, and the voice that had called his name while he was awake.

The departure Portkey began glowing behind her. Aryanna looked toward it before returning her attention to him.

“We love you,” she said. Her hands remained on his shoulders until Damon called her toward the circle.

“I love you too,” Daryan replied. He stepped back reluctantly and watched his family gather around the Portkey.

Damon held Aryanna’s hand, while Dalon remained beside Emily. Deedra and Kevin joined Poretta because their Portkeys would carry them to the same transfer point.

The silver light brightened, and the visitors disappeared. The students remained in the courtyard while faculty members began collecting the ropes and signs around the arrival areas.

Geoffrey moved beside Daryan. “That went fast.”

“Too fast,” Daryan agreed. He continued looking at the empty arrival circle for another moment.

Ivan unfolded the letter his father had sent with Poretta. Theo and Marisol stood together near the place where their parents had disappeared, while Harper and Parker joined the others near the castle doors.

Later, Daryan, Geoffrey, Theo, and Ivan carried Poretta’s enormous bag into their dormitory. It contained maple candies, wrapped pastries, fruit preserves, and enough food to fill an entire shelf.

Ivan sat on his bed and read his father’s letter while the others divided the food according to Poretta’s written instructions. When he finished, he folded the parchment carefully and looked toward the star chart beside his bed.

“He wants the map of our room,” Ivan said. “Mom told him I offered to draw one.”

Daryan moved his chair closer and unrolled a blank piece of parchment. “We can make it accurate. We should include the windows and the direction they face.”

Theo collected a ruler, while Geoffrey began measuring the distance between the beds with his feet. Ivan corrected him after the first three steps and retrieved a measuring tape from his trunk.

The four boys spent the remainder of the evening drawing the dormitory for Eric and eating Poretta’s pastries. Their only serious disagreement concerned whether Snowbird’s preferred place on top of the wardrobe counted as furniture, a permanent landmark, or an unusually judgmental part of the room.

 

 

Chapter 12

The Voices Beneath the Music

The cabinet stood at the far end of the corridor, its dark wooden doors closed beneath the uneven glow of several pale blue lanterns. Daryan remained near the opposite wall, unwilling to move any closer while whispers seeped through the narrow space between the doors.

The voices tangled together until he could not distinguish one from another. Some sounded frightened, while others spoke with anger. A quiet laugh drifted beneath them, vanishing whenever Daryan tried to concentrate upon it.

Something else moved beneath the whispering. The sound was so faint that he almost mistook it for fabric brushing against stone. It seemed to come from far beyond the cabinet, passing through the corridor in a soft, uneven ripple before disappearing beneath the voices again.

The cabinet shook. Its brass handles turned slowly from the inside as one voice rose above the others.

“Daryan.”

He awoke with one hand gripping the blankets.

Chip stood near the foot of the bed, staring toward the closed dormitory door. The tiny owl’s feathers had risen around his body, making him appear twice his normal size.

“Did you hear it too?” Daryan whispered.

Chip did not look at him. The owl remained focused upon the door until the dormitory fell silent again.

Geoffrey, Theo, and Ivan continued sleeping behind the blue curtains surrounding their beds. Daryan considered waking them, but the dream already seemed less threatening in the familiar darkness of the room. He told himself that Chip had heard something in the corridor and settled beneath the blankets again.

The dream returned two nights later. This time, the cabinet doors opened far enough for darkness to creep across the floor. Something pale moved inside the narrow gap, but Daryan awoke before he could determine what it was.

As October continued, the dreams came more frequently. The corridor became clearer each time, revealing cracks in the stone and deep scratches surrounding the cabinet. Symbols had been carved around its frame, but they shifted whenever Daryan attempted to read them.

The faint movement beneath the voices returned as well. It brushed through the walls and across the floor, always quiet enough to remain at the edge of his attention. Daryan could not decide whether it belonged to the dream or whether his frightened mind was adding sounds that were not truly there.

The voices eventually followed him out of sleep.

He first heard them beneath Professor Tyndale’s lecture. Daryan had been taking notes about the formation of MACUSA when a low whisper rose from somewhere behind the blackboard. His quill stopped in the middle of a sentence as he listened.

Professor Tyndale continued explaining the earliest structure of the magical government. None of the other students reacted, and the whisper faded before Daryan could understand what it had said.

A dry rustling followed it. The sound seemed to move behind the blackboard before spreading along the stone wall. It was so faint that Daryan wondered whether a piece of chalk had rolled across the ledge.

Later that day, he heard the voices behind a shelf in the library. He circled the bookcase and found nothing except a wooden wall and several dusty chairs. A portrait of an elderly witch sleeping beside the window opened one eye and demanded to know why he was creeping through the library.

“I thought I heard something,” Daryan explained.

“You are surrounded by books,” the painted witch replied. “They are rarely quiet.”

Daryan returned to his table, although the explanation did not satisfy him. He could still hear a faint movement behind the shelves, like countless soft surfaces sliding over one another somewhere too distant to locate.

The whispering occurred again inside the Horned Serpent common room. Daryan looked toward the wall near the crystal fountain when a voice seemed to call from behind it.

Chip reacted before anyone else. The tiny owl abandoned his place near the window and flew to Daryan, landing on the back of his chair with his feathers raised and his wings partially spread.

“What’s wrong with him?” Theo asked, lowering the book he had been reading.

“I don’t know.” Daryan reached for Chip, but the owl continued watching the wall as he stepped onto Daryan’s arm.

Geoffrey followed Chip’s gaze. “Is something over there?”

“No,” Daryan answered too quickly. “He probably saw a bug.”

Ivan studied the crystal fountain before looking back at him. “There aren’t any bugs near it. The fountain repels them.”

“Then maybe Chip thought he saw one.” Daryan carried the owl upstairs before the questions could continue.

The loss of sleep soon began affecting him in class. During Potions, he nearly added powdered knotgrass before Theo caught his wrist.

“That doesn’t go in until the solution turns silver,” Theo whispered, glancing toward Professor Mercer.

Daryan stared at the spoon in his hand. “I know.”

“Then why were you adding it?”

“I wasn’t.” Even Daryan heard how unconvincing the answer sounded.

Professor Mercer appeared beside their table before Theo could respond. His gaze moved from the spoon to the open container of knotgrass.

“What are you doing, Mr. Marsdale?”

Daryan returned the powder to its dish. “Nothing, Professor.”

“Nothing is rarely performed while holding an ingredient over a cauldron.”

“I almost added it too early,” Daryan admitted.

Professor Mercer examined him through his amber spectacles. “Have you slept recently?”

“Yes, Professor.” Daryan disliked how easily the lie left his mouth.

Mercer continued watching him before turning toward Theo. “Mr. Vega, you will monitor the ingredients. Mr. Marsdale, you will monitor the flame. Neither of you will assume the other’s responsibility without discussing it first.”

They completed the potion successfully, but Daryan felt Professor Mercer’s attention returning to him throughout the remainder of the class. Each time it did, Daryan straightened and pretended that exhaustion was not pulling at the back of his eyes.

Geoffrey became suspicious after Daryan forgot their Charms assignment.

“You finished it in the common room,” Geoffrey said while Daryan searched through his school bag. “I watched you write the last answer.”

“Then I must have left it upstairs.” Daryan emptied the bag across the desk, although he already knew the parchment was not there.

“You never forget homework.”

“I forgot it today.”

Geoffrey’s concern deepened. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing.”

“You keep saying that.”

“Because nothing is wrong.” The sharpness in Daryan’s voice made Geoffrey step back.

Daryan immediately regretted it. He pushed the scattered books back into his bag and lowered his voice.

“I’m sorry. I haven’t been sleeping very well.”

“Why not?” Geoffrey asked.

“Too much homework.”

They both knew the explanation was weak, but Professor Vale entered the classroom before Geoffrey could question him further. She accepted Daryan’s promise to bring the missing assignment after lunch, although her observant gaze lingered upon him almost as long as Professor Mercer’s had.

Even Riven’s insults became difficult to answer. One afternoon, the Wampus boy called him “Mutt” as they passed outside the Great Hall. Daryan continued walking without responding.

“He’s too tired to bark today,” Ludan said, laughing beside Riven.

Geoffrey stopped, but Daryan caught the sleeve of his robes. “Leave it.”

“You shouldn’t let them talk to you like that.”

“I don’t care.” Daryan kept walking before Geoffrey could see that the insult had affected him. He cared, but he no longer possessed enough energy to argue.

The dreams intensified as Hallow’s Eve approached. During one of them, Daryan reached the cabinet and pressed his ear against the wood.

Dozens of people whispered from inside, each voice repeating a different message. One begged him to open the doors. Another warned him to run. Their words echoed as though the cabinet contained stone chambers stretching far beyond the wall.

The quiet movement beneath the voices became clearer.

It was not fabric or loose parchment. It sounded like scales passing over stone, layer upon layer, until Daryan imagined thousands upon thousands of snakes moving through the darkness behind the cabinet. Their bodies seemed to slide through unseen passages, the sound echoing and multiplying in the same impossible way as the whispers.

Even then, the slithering remained beneath the voices. Daryan had to concentrate to separate it from them.

A third voice spoke directly against the other side of the wood.

“He is coming back.”

Daryan shot awake on the floor beside his bed.

Blue-white sparks snapped between the fingers of his right hand, briefly illuminating the underside of the nearest bed. They crawled across his knuckles in thin electrical threads before vanishing.

His fingertips tingled as though they had fallen asleep. Chip stood above him with his wings spread, staring at Daryan’s hand.

Daryan curled his fingers into his palm. The sparks did not return.

Geoffrey sat up and pulled open his curtains. His eyes narrowed as he tried to see through the darkness.

“What happened?”

“I fell.” Daryan pushed himself onto one elbow, keeping his right hand closed against his chest.

“Out of bed?”

“Yes.”

Geoffrey leaned closer. “I thought I saw a light.”

“It was probably Chip moving past the window.”

“The curtains are closed.”

Daryan avoided looking at him. “I had a bad dream.”

“What about?”

“I don’t remember.”

Geoffrey remained seated with one hand holding his curtain open. He clearly did not believe him, but after several uncomfortable seconds, he allowed Daryan to climb back into bed without another question.

Chip refused to return to his perch. He settled beside Daryan’s shoulder and remained there until morning.

One week before Hallow’s Eve, the whispering became impossible to ignore.

Daryan spent the first lesson of the morning in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Professor Sylveran was teaching them how to determine whether an apparently unconscious person was truly helpless or attempting to lure someone closer. Several enchanted training figures waited on the floor, forcing the students to observe them from a safe distance.

Daryan struggled to concentrate. Whispers moved behind Professor Sylveran’s voice, never remaining in one place long enough for him to locate them.

The faint slithering traveled beneath them. It passed through the walls in distant waves, so light that it might have been branches brushing against the outside of the castle.

Professor Sylveran noticed Daryan looking around.

“Is something distracting you, Mr. Marsdale?”

“No, Professor.” Daryan forced his attention toward the training figure in front of him.

Sylveran’s dark gaze remained upon him for another moment. “Then identify the safest route of approach.”

Daryan examined the figure and the surrounding floor. “From the left. Its right hand is hidden, and there’s a reflective charm on the floor near its feet.”

“Correct. Continue.”

Daryan completed the lesson without making another mistake. When the bell rang, he gathered his books and left with Geoffrey, Theo, and Ivan. They were expected in Herbology within fifteen minutes.

The corridor outside the Defense classroom was crowded with students changing lessons. Daryan followed his friends toward the staircase while conversations and footsteps echoed around them.

The first voice whispered his name.

Daryan stopped.

Geoffrey looked back. “Are you coming?”

More voices joined the first. They spoke from the walls, the floor, and the ceiling, each repetition of Daryan’s name returning through the corridor as though hundreds of unseen mouths had whispered it.

The slithering followed.

What had once been a distant rustle moved behind the stone in countless overlapping layers. It sounded like thousands upon thousands of snakes winding through hidden spaces inside the castle, their scales sliding across rock and one another. The sound echoed with the voices, but it remained beneath them, a vast movement hidden behind spoken words.

Daryan dropped his books and pressed both hands against his ears. Neither sound became quieter.

“Daryan.” The whispers surrounded him as the corridor began to darken. “Find us. Open it. He is coming.”

Students disappeared from his sight. The stone walls stretched away until Daryan stood inside the passage from his dreams.

The cabinet waited at the end. Its doors shook violently, and darkness streamed through the narrow opening, crawling across the floor toward him.

Something moved within that darkness. The slithering rolled through the corridor, but Daryan could not see any snakes. He could only hear the impossible number of them moving behind the walls.

He tried to step backward, but his legs would not respond. The cabinet’s brass handles turned as the doors began opening.

“Daryan!”

Someone caught him as the floor vanished beneath his feet. The whispers, the slithering, and the corridor disappeared together.

Daryan awakened to the scent of mint, clean linen, and something faintly bitter. He lay beneath a blue blanket in a narrow bed surrounded by pale curtains. Shelves containing bottles and medical instruments lined the nearby walls, while several silver tools floated above a table and arranged themselves by size.

A woman stood beside him. Professor Bella Woods had thick black curls threaded with gray and wore cream-colored robes beneath a blue apron. Daryan had seen her at the faculty table, but he had never attended one of her classes. Magical Healing was offered only to older students.

“You are in the infirmary,” she told him as his eyes moved around the room. “Do not attempt to stand.”

Daryan looked toward the foot of the bed. Eruman sat in a wooden chair with his hands resting upon the polished handle of his walking stick. His posture remained composed, but worry filled his expression. Professor Sylveran stood beside him with his arms folded across his broad chest.

“What happened?” Daryan asked.

“You collapsed in the corridor,” Professor Woods explained. “Professor Sylveran carried you here.”

“Where are my friends?”

“They are waiting outside until I decide whether you are ready for visitors.” Professor Woods poured water into a small glass and helped Daryan sit high enough to drink.

His arms felt weak, and a dull ache remained behind his eyes. After emptying the glass, he looked toward Eruman.

“How long was I asleep?”

“Nearly three hours,” Professor Woods answered.

Daryan lowered the glass. “I’m sorry, Grandfather.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Eruman’s controlled voice could not hide his concern.

Professor Woods placed two fingers against Daryan’s wrist. A band of soft golden light appeared beneath them and traveled slowly along his arm.

“You are exhausted,” she said. “Your magical reserves are lower than they should be, and your body has not received enough proper sleep. Neither condition fully explains the sudden collapse.”

Professor Sylveran moved closer. “I am going to perform several detection charms. You may feel warmth or pressure, but neither sensation should be painful.”

Daryan nodded.

Sylveran drew his wand and moved it slowly above the bed. A ring of white light appeared around Daryan and rose from the floor. It passed through him from his feet to his head before disappearing.

The professor performed another charm. This one produced several silver threads that drifted around Daryan without touching him. One curled briefly toward his wand on the bedside table before dissolving.

Sylveran lowered his wand. “There is no curse attached to him. I can find no foreign magical presence, parasitic connection, possession, or compulsion. His wand carries only the expected residue from his recent lessons.”

Eruman looked toward Professor Woods. “Could the voices result from exhaustion?”

“What voices?” Daryan asked before realizing what Eruman had revealed.

Professor Sylveran’s expression tightened. “You were speaking before you lost consciousness.”

Daryan looked down at the blanket. “What did I say?”

“You told something to stop calling your name.”

Silence settled over the infirmary. Eruman moved his chair closer and rested one hand upon the side of Daryan’s bed.

“Daryan, I need you to tell us what happened.”

Daryan looked between the three adults. He could claim not to remember, but Geoffrey had seen too much. Professor Sylveran had heard him speak to the voices, and Eruman’s concern made another lie feel impossible.

“It’s the cabinet,” Daryan admitted quietly.

Eruman became still. “The cabinet discussed by the men in Hushnote?”

Daryan nodded. “I started dreaming about it after I came here.”

Once he began speaking, the rest followed. He described the corridor, the darkness, the pale eyes inside the cabinet, and the brass handles turning from within. He told them about the voices calling his name and admitted that he had heard them while awake in several parts of the school.

“There’s another sound beneath them,” Daryan continued. “I barely noticed it at first. I thought it was something brushing against the walls.”

Professor Sylveran drew his chair closer. “What does it sound like now?”

Daryan hesitated before answering. “Snakes. Thousands of them, maybe more. They sound like they’re slithering through the walls, but the noise echoes the way the voices do. I never see anything.”

Eruman’s grip tightened around the handle of his walking stick. “Have you heard the slithering while awake?”

“Yes. It happened in Professor Tyndale’s classroom, the library, and the common room. Chip notices something too. He watches the walls whenever it happens.”

Professor Woods sat upon the edge of the neighboring bed. “How often have you been dreaming about the cabinet?”

“Almost every night.”

“For how long?”

“Most of October.”

Eruman’s concern changed into something heavier. “Why did you not tell me?”

Daryan stared at his hands. He thought about the blue-white sparks, but embarrassment and uncertainty kept him from mentioning them.

“I thought you would think I wanted attention.”

Eruman’s eyebrows drew together. “Why would I think that?”

“Everyone knows I’m your grandson. I didn’t want the professors thinking I was making things up so you would treat me differently.”

Eruman rested his hand over Daryan’s. “Asking for help is not seeking attention. You never need to make yourself suffer simply to prove that you deserve to be here.”

“I thought it would stop.”

“And when it did not?”

“I kept thinking it would.”

Professor Sylveran leaned forward, his voice becoming more precise. “When you hear the voices, do they instruct you to harm yourself or anyone else?”

“No.”

“Do they attempt to control your movements?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Have you ever awakened somewhere other than your bed?”

“Only on the floor beside it.”

Sylveran exchanged a brief look with Eruman before returning his attention to Daryan.

“Do you recognize the corridor?”

“I found a place after Astronomy that looked like it, but I don’t know if it was the same one.”

“Can you describe how to reach it?”

“I think so.”

“You will not attempt to take us there today,” Professor Sylveran said. “You will describe the route when you have recovered.”

Daryan looked toward Eruman. “Did you ever find the delivery?”

“No official record of the cabinet exists,” Eruman answered. “The school’s protective enchantments also recorded no unauthorized object entering the grounds.”

“Then how did it get here?”

“We do not yet know that it did.” Eruman’s expression remained grave. “The absence of evidence does not prove that you imagined what you heard in Hushnote. It means we have not found the method by which the cabinet could have entered.”

“I can show you where the corridor is.”

“No,” Eruman said.

“I know how to find it.”

“You collapsed less than three hours ago. You will remain here until Professor Woods decides you may leave.”

The finality in his voice silenced Daryan. Professor Woods stood and retrieved a small blue bottle from one of the shelves.

“You need uninterrupted sleep. This is a mild Dreamless Sleep Draught prepared for younger patients.”

Daryan eyed the bottle. “How long will I sleep?”

“Until morning.”

“What if I hear the voices?”

“You should not dream at all.” Professor Woods poured a measured amount into a glass. The pale lavender potion released a thin spiral of silver steam.

Eruman rose and smoothed Daryan’s hair away from his forehead. “Professor Sylveran and I will inspect the corridor. I will return in the morning.”

“Be careful.”

A faint smile touched Eruman’s face. “I intend to be.”

After Eruman and Professor Sylveran left, Professor Woods handed Daryan the glass. The potion tasted like lavender, mint, and something unpleasantly sour beneath both.

He lowered himself against the pillows while Professor Woods adjusted the blanket. She then moved toward her office at the opposite end of the infirmary.

The potion did not take effect immediately. Voices drifted from the corridor beyond the partially open doors, and Daryan recognized Eruman and Professor Sylveran.

“I should have treated the incident in Hushnote with greater urgency,” Eruman said.

“You investigated the delivery records,” Sylveran replied. “The castle wards showed no breach.”

“Then someone deceived both the records and the wards.”

“Or the object was assembled inside the school.” Professor Sylveran’s suggestion was followed by a brief silence.

“I want every unused classroom, storage chamber, and restricted corridor searched,” Eruman said. “Increase the Pukwudgie patrols and review every Portkey, Apparition, and delivery record from the month before term began.”

“I will organize the search.”

“No one conducts it alone.”

“Agreed.”

Daryan’s eyelids became heavy. Eruman’s voice seemed farther away when he spoke again.

“I also want Dalon Marsdale informed. His recent investigation in the Southwest may have involved similar objects or methods.”

“And MACUSA?”

“I intend to speak directly with the President. If someone placed an unidentified magical artifact inside a school, this matter is no longer limited to Ilvermorny.”

The conversation faded as the potion pulled Daryan into a deep sleep without voices, cabinets, or unseen creatures moving behind the walls.

Sunlight filled the infirmary when he opened his eyes again. His head felt clearer than it had in weeks.

Professor Woods sat at a desk near the windows, writing in a large ledger. She looked up when Daryan moved.

“How do you feel?”

“Better.”

“Better is not a measurement.”

Daryan considered the question more carefully. “My head doesn’t hurt, and I don’t feel as tired. I don’t hear anything either.”

Professor Woods crossed the room and examined his eyes. “Any tingling, numbness, dizziness, or unusual magical activity?”

The question made Daryan think of the sparks between his fingers. He almost told her, but the moment had been so brief that he still was not certain whether he had seen them clearly.

“No,” he answered.

Professor Woods checked his pulse and magical reserves before allowing him to sit upright. Breakfast appeared on a tray beside the bed.

“You will eat all of that,” she instructed. “Afterward, you may have visitors.”

Geoffrey, Theo, and Ivan entered less than an hour later. Geoffrey reached the bed first, anger and relief competing across his face.

“You frightened us half to death.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You were lying on the floor and wouldn’t wake up.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t. You were unconscious.”

Theo placed Daryan’s books carefully upon the bedside table. “We collected everything you dropped.”

Ivan added a stack of parchment beside them. “Professor Rosloe excused you from the greenhouse assignment. Professor Vale did not excuse you from the reading.”

Daryan looked toward Geoffrey, who still appeared angry. “I should have told you what was happening.”

“Yes, you should have.”

“I thought it would stop.”

“That is what you say about everything.” Geoffrey sat upon the edge of the neighboring bed and folded his arms. “What happened?”

Daryan told them about the dreams, the voices, and the cabinet appearing at the end of the corridor before he collapsed. He also described the slithering, although saying it aloud made the sound seem even more impossible.

“You mean actual snakes?” Theo asked, his concern overcoming his usual caution about interrupting.

“I haven’t seen any. It only sounds like them.”

“How many?” Ivan asked.

“Thousands. Maybe more.”

Ivan’s expression became thoughtful. “The walls would have to contain an enormous amount of hidden space.”

“Or the sound is being carried from somewhere else,” Theo suggested. “The echoes might make one location sound like several.”

Geoffrey looked between them. “We are not trying to determine where it comes from.”

“I was only considering the possibilities,” Ivan said.

“That is how investigations begin, and the Headmaster already told us not to investigate.” Geoffrey returned his attention to Daryan. “You’re going to tell someone if it happens again.”

“I will.”

“I want an actual promise. If you hear the voices or the slithering, dream about the cabinet, wake up somewhere you don’t remember going, or notice anything else impossible, you tell one of us and a professor.”

Daryan shifted against the pillows. “A lot of things are impossible here.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I promise.”

Geoffrey studied him for several seconds before accepting the answer. “Good. I don’t want to carry you back to the infirmary.”

“Professor Sylveran carried me.”

“I helped by staying out of his way.”

Professor Woods allowed Harper and Parker to visit later that afternoon. Harper brought a small pumpkin-shaped cake from the kitchens, while Parker carried notes from Magical Creatures.

“You missed Professor Gardwick teaching us how to identify a sleeping mooncalf,” Parker said as he placed the parchment beside Daryan’s other assignments.

Harper lowered the cake onto the table. “It was sleeping. That made identification fairly simple.”

“We had to identify whether it was sleeping naturally or affected by magic.”

“It had its eyes closed and was snoring.”

Parker opened his notes to reveal several detailed sketches. “There are differences in posture and breathing.”

Geoffrey leaned over the page. “That one looks like a frightened potato.”

“That is the mooncalf’s head.”

“It still looks frightened.”

Parker reclaimed the notes before Geoffrey could inspect them more closely. “Professor Gardwick recognized it.”

Daryan laughed, and Professor Woods looked up from her desk with an expression that suggested she approved of the sound but not the volume.

He remained in the infirmary for a second night. Professor Woods gave him another carefully measured dose of Dreamless Sleep Draught, and he awoke without hearing the cabinet.

Eruman returned the following morning with Professor Sylveran. Both looked as though they had spent more time searching the castle than sleeping.

“We inspected the corridor you described,” Sylveran told him. “No cabinet was present, and the detection charms found no concealed door, altered space, or lingering magical signature.”

“Did you hear anything?”

“No.”

Daryan looked toward Eruman. “Does that mean I imagined it?”

“It means we have not found the source,” Eruman replied. “Nothing more.”

Professor Sylveran explained that additional detection charms had been placed throughout the corridor. Pukwudgie patrols had been increased, and several faculty members were searching unused rooms and storage spaces.

“You are not to assist in that search,” Eruman warned.

“I wasn’t going to.”

Eruman gave him a look that suggested he did not entirely believe him. “This instruction extends to Mr. Taylor, Mr. Vega, Mr. Kiljoy, Miss Pointe, and Mr. Pointe. None of you will investigate the cabinet yourselves.”

“Yes, Headmaster.”

Professor Woods released Daryan after lunch with a bottle of restorative tonic and instructions to return if the voices, slithering, dizziness, exhaustion, or unusual dreams returned.

The school appeared different when he left the infirmary. Pukwudgies stood at corridor intersections that had previously been empty. Professor Sylveran appeared near several of Daryan’s classes, while other faculty members inspected walls and doors when they believed students were not watching.

The search was conducted quietly, but rumors still spread. Some students believed a dangerous creature had escaped inside the castle. Others claimed MACUSA Aurors were searching for a cursed book. Riven told anyone who listened that the professors were overreacting because a first year had fainted between classes.

Daryan did not respond. He concentrated upon recovering and completing the assignments he had missed.

Geoffrey, Theo, and Ivan remained close to him between classes. They did not allow him to walk through the corridors alone, even when he insisted that Professor Woods had cleared him.

The final week of October transformed Ilvermorny. Large carved pumpkins appeared along the staircases, each containing a candle that burned with blue, green, purple, or orange fire. Their carved faces moved whenever students passed, and several demanded conversation before allowing anyone to continue.

One pumpkin sang greetings to everyone. Another guarded the entrance to the library and demanded compliments before revealing the doors.

“I have never seen a more terrifying pumpkin,” Geoffrey told it.

The pumpkin narrowed its glowing eyes. “Terrifyingly handsome?”

“Of course. No one would dare suggest otherwise.”

The pumpkin smiled and allowed the library doors to open. Theo waited until they were out of hearing before observing that Geoffrey had become unusually skilled at lying to vegetables.

Enchanted bats flew beneath the ceilings and occasionally hung upside down from the chandeliers. Silver cobwebs stretched between pillars and across classroom doors, although they dissolved harmlessly whenever anyone walked through them.

The suits of armor wore masks and capes. Several had been enchanted to groan whenever students approached, but one became confused and started making chicken noises instead.

Music filled the castle. Self-playing instruments performed eerie waltzes in the entrance gallery, while a bewitched piano produced slow melodies outside the Great Hall. Enchanted brass instruments played lively jazz in the courtyards, and the singing floor tiles shifted from their ordinary tunes to low harmonies that followed students through the corridors.

The portraits of former headmasters decorated their painted rooms. Candles, autumn leaves, and miniature pumpkins appeared inside the frames. In the honored portrait above the Great Hall doors, Isolt and James filled their cottage with Hallow’s Eve decorations. Isolt waved whenever Daryan passed, while James attempted to carve a pumpkin that changed its expression each time he touched it.

The ghosts were in unusually cheerful spirits. Bartholomew Pike organized a procession through the school and complained that living people appreciated ghosts properly only once a year.

“Hallow’s Eve is the one evening when people want us hovering over their shoulders,” he told Daryan. “Try that in March and everyone begins screaming.”

“Aren’t they supposed to scream on Hallow’s Eve?” Ivan asked.

Bartholomew adjusted the translucent collar of his coat. “That is entirely different. Seasonal screaming is respectful.”

The student choir practiced each evening inside the Great Hall. Several ghosts joined them, adding voices that seemed to come from far beyond the castle walls. Their rehearsals drifted through Ilvermorny and filled the corridors with haunting harmonies.

The preparations helped Daryan forget about the cabinet for several hours at a time. The voices and slithering did not return during the week following his collapse. Professor Woods attributed the improvement to proper sleep, but Professor Sylveran remained watchful.

Daryan caught him observing from the far side of the Great Hall during breakfast. The professor also appeared outside Transfiguration and accompanied the first years partway toward the greenhouses.

“You have a class,” Daryan told him after noticing him for the third time.

“I am aware of my schedule.”

“Are you following me?”

Professor Sylveran looked down at him. “I am walking through the school in which I teach.”

“You keep walking wherever I’m going.”

“Then we have developed similar taste in corridors.” Sylveran’s expression gave Daryan no opportunity to challenge the explanation.

The Hallow’s Eve celebration began after breakfast and continued throughout the day. Formal lessons were suspended, although several professors turned their activities into demonstrations related to the subjects they taught.

Professor Gardwick brought a collection of nocturnal magical creatures into one of the enclosed courtyards. Students watched mooncalves dance beneath an enchanted night sky, while small winged creatures resembling black cats chased floating lanterns.

Professor Yelton arranged a broom obstacle course containing glowing hoops, floating pumpkins, and silver ribbons. Older students flew at full height, while the first years remained beneath their fifteen-foot restriction.

Harper completed the course faster than anyone else in their year. Geoffrey became tangled in a silver ribbon when he turned too late, and Theo refused to fly through a pumpkin that screamed whenever someone approached.

“It is designed to distract you,” Harper told him after landing.

“It succeeded,” Theo replied. “I saw no reason to reward it by flying into its mouth.”

The talking-pumpkin competition occupied another courtyard. Students carved faces and enchanted them with different personalities. One pumpkin recited terrible poetry, while another believed it was Headmaster Magreth and attempted to assign homework.

Eruman stood before the imitation and listened as it announced a three-foot essay on proper candle maintenance.

“I do not sound like that,” he said.

Professor Vale smiled beside him. “Of course not, Headmaster.”

The pumpkin lifted its carved chin. “Professor Vale, ten points from Horned Serpent for impertinence.”

The students gathered around them laughed, and Eruman informed the pumpkin that it had demonstrated an alarming abuse of authority.

An enchanted maze opened during the afternoon. Its hedges changed positions whenever the bells rang, and friendly ghosts offered clues that were not always helpful.

Daryan entered with Geoffrey, Theo, Ivan, Harper, and Parker. Bartholomew Pike directed them toward three dead ends before admitting that he had forgotten the route.

“You can pass through the hedges,” Geoffrey complained. “How can you not know where the exit is?”

“That does not mean I know where I am,” Bartholomew replied.

Parker eventually noticed that the candles along the correct path burned with blue flames. The group escaped shortly before the hedges rearranged themselves again.

The Hallow’s Eve feast began after sunset. The enchanted ceiling above the Great Hall displayed a massive silver moon surrounded by drifting clouds. Hundreds of candles floated through the air, their flames changing colors whenever the choir sang. Enchanted bats circled the rafters, while the carved pumpkins lining the walls greeted students by name.

The house tables were covered with pumpkin soup, roasted chicken, glazed vegetables, fresh bread, spiced cider, caramel apples, pies, cakes, and bowls of enchanted candy.

Daryan sat with Geoffrey, Theo, and Ivan at the Horned Serpent table. Harper and Parker visited during the periods when students were permitted to leave their house sections between performances.

For several hours, Daryan enjoyed the celebration without hearing anything hidden inside the walls. He ate too much caramel cake, laughed when a ghost rose through Riven’s chair, and watched Professor Vale dance with one of the suits of armor.

Eruman remained at the faculty table for the beginning of the feast but departed before the final performance. Daryan assumed the investigation had called him away.

The choir assembled upon the raised platform at the end of the Great Hall. Nearly fifty students stood in rows beneath Professor Gravis’s direction. The Ilvermorny ghosts floated behind them, their transparent forms glowing beneath the moonlight from the enchanted ceiling.

The instruments began playing without musicians. A low organ note rolled through the Great Hall, followed by violins and the distant chiming of bells. The living choir began singing a slow, wordless melody.

The ghosts added their voices. The combined sound passed through the tables and walls, making the candles tremble as they dimmed. Soon the choir was illuminated only by the silver moon above them.

Daryan listened, completely absorbed.

Another voice whispered beneath the music.

“Daryan.”

His body stiffened. Geoffrey turned toward him at once.

The whispering grew louder, but it no longer seemed to come from every direction. The voices called from somewhere beyond the Great Hall, deep inside the castle.

Beneath them came the faint slithering. It echoed like the voices, suggesting countless snakes moving far beyond the surrounding walls. The choir almost concealed it, but Daryan recognized the sound now.

“Find us,” the voices whispered.

Daryan gripped the edge of the table as another message passed beneath the music.

“Before he returns.”

Geoffrey leaned closer. “What’s wrong?”

Daryan’s first instinct was to say nothing. He remembered waking in the infirmary, Geoffrey’s anger, and the promise he had made.

He caught Geoffrey’s sleeve. “The voices are back. I can hear the slithering too.”

Geoffrey stood without questioning him. Theo and Ivan noticed immediately.

“What is it?” Theo asked, lowering his voice so he would not disturb the performance.

“The cabinet,” Geoffrey answered.

Daryan looked toward the faculty table. Eruman’s chair remained empty, but Professor Sylveran stood beside one of the side doors.

The boys moved quietly from the Horned Serpent table. Harper and Parker noticed them leaving and started to rise, but Geoffrey motioned for them to remain where they were.

Professor Sylveran stepped forward before they reached him. “What happened?”

“I can hear them,” Daryan whispered. “The voices said to find them before he returns. The snakes are moving somewhere behind them.”

“You heard words from the snakes?”

“No. Only the slithering.”

Sylveran drew his wand and cast a silent charm around Daryan. A pale ring of light passed over him before fading.

“Do you hear either sound now?”

Daryan listened. The choir continued singing, and the ghosts’ voices filled the Great Hall, but the hidden whispering and slithering had stopped.

“No.”

Professor Sylveran looked toward the corridor beyond the doors. “Where did they come from?”

“Somewhere inside the school. I couldn’t tell where.”

Sylveran summoned a silver bird from the end of his wand. After speaking quietly to it, he sent the messenger flying through the wall.

“Was that for Grandfather?” Daryan asked.

“The Headmaster is speaking with the President of MACUSA. My message will reach him.”

Daryan glanced toward the infirmary passage. “Do I have to see Professor Woods?”

“Not unless the sounds return or you begin feeling unwell.”

“I feel fine.”

“Then remain where I can see you.” Sylveran guided the boys toward an open section near the side of the Great Hall.

Geoffrey sat close enough that his shoulder remained pressed against Daryan’s. Theo and Ivan took the places beside them. Once the choir finished, Harper and Parker joined the group without asking whether they were welcome.

Parker returned from the refreshment table with a cup of warm cider and held it toward Daryan. “Professor Woods always tells people to drink something after they feel unwell.”

“I didn’t collapse this time.”

“That seems like an excellent reason to keep it that way.”

Daryan accepted the cider. Harper remained at the outer edge of the group, watching the surrounding students and doors with an alertness that made her purpose clear even though she said nothing.

The celebration continued around them. The candles brightened, the instruments shifted into a livelier melody, and the ghosts began their procession through the Great Hall. Bartholomew Pike floated past wearing a translucent crown and waved dramatically toward the students.

Professor Sylveran remained beside the nearest door, his attention moving between Daryan and the corridors beyond the hall. The voices and slithering stayed quiet while Daryan drank his cider and watched the final procession with his friends.

 

 

Chapter 13

An Echo Before the Sound

Four narrow silver lines circled the bottle of Dreamless Sleep Draught in Daryan’s hand. Professor Woods had instructed him to drink only to the first mark, and Geoffrey watched closely enough to make certain he did not swallow a drop more.

Daryan sat on the edge of his bed and removed the cork. The brief examination following the Hallow’s Eve feast had revealed no change in his condition, but Professor Sylveran had still escorted him all the way to the Horned Serpent entrance. Pukwudgies were patrolling the nearby corridors, and several monitoring charms had been placed around the common room.

The potion smelled of lavender and mint. Daryan tipped the bottle carefully until the liquid reached the first silver line, then replaced the cork and placed the remaining draught inside the drawer beside his bed.

“Did you drink the right amount?” Geoffrey asked as Daryan closed the drawer. Concern had followed him from the Great Hall, sharpening his attention toward everything Daryan did.

“One quarter,” Daryan assured him. “Exactly like Professor Woods told me.”

Ivan adjusted his spectacles from the next bed and gave a confirming nod. “He stopped precisely at the mark. I watched the level while he drank.”

“I didn’t ask you to supervise me,” Daryan pointed out, although he was too tired to sound annoyed.

“Professor Woods might ask whether anyone did.” Ivan folded his robes over the back of his chair with his usual care. “Now we can provide an accurate answer.”

Theo pulled back the curtains around his bed and climbed beneath the blankets. “I hope Professor Woods doesn’t ask me anything tonight. I ate enough at the feast to qualify as a medical emergency.”

“You had four pieces of caramel cake,” Geoffrey reminded him while removing his school robes. “No one forced you to return for the last two.”

“And three broomcakes,” Ivan added. “I counted those as well.”

“The broomcakes were small,” Theo protested, arranging his pillow behind his head.

“They were the size of your hand.”

“That is small compared to an ordinary broom.” Theo looked toward Daryan for support, but Daryan merely shook his head.

“Do not encourage him,” Geoffrey warned. He climbed into his own bed and left the curtains partly open so he could see across the dormitory.

“I wasn’t planning to.” Daryan settled beneath his blankets while Chip nestled against the pillow beside him.

The potion’s warmth moved quickly through Daryan’s body. His arms grew heavy, and the sounds of the dormitory softened around him. Snowbird shifted upon the wardrobe while Geoffrey and Ivan continued debating which part of the broomcakes tasted better.

“The bristles were nothing but frosting,” Ivan observed. “They had no flavor beyond sugar.”

“That’s why they were better,” Geoffrey replied. “The handles were dry.”

“The handles had cinnamon inside. You ate yours too quickly to notice.”

Daryan closed his eyes as sleep gathered around him. “I thought the handles tasted like…”

The rest of the sentence disappeared before he could speak it.

Cold stone pressed against Daryan’s bare feet.

He was walking through Ilvermorny.

The castle remained decorated for Hallow’s Eve, but the celebration had ended. Candles had burned down to small blue flames, talking pumpkins slept along the walls with their carved faces motionless, and enchanted bats hung beneath the ceiling with their wings wrapped around themselves.

Daryan could feel every shallow groove in the stone beneath his feet. Cold air brushed through his pajamas, raising gooseflesh along his arms, but he could not remember leaving his bed or walking downstairs.

Everything flickered.

Pale silver light flooded the corridor. Every stone, doorway, and sleeping pumpkin appeared with unnatural clarity. The polished floor reflected the blue candles, and the walls looked exactly as Daryan remembered them.

Darkness swallowed the castle a heartbeat later.

The same corridor returned in a different form.

Dark mist hung in the air, thick enough to conceal the far end of the passage. Black fluid oozed from cracks between the stones and crawled down the walls in glistening trails. Some streams reached the floor and collected in shallow pools, while others seemed to defy gravity and spread toward the arched ceiling.

Shapes moved along the outer edges of Daryan’s sight.

Long bodies slithered through the mist beside the walls. Several snakes wound around one another near the floor, their scales briefly catching a sickly gray light before darkness concealed them. More hung from the rafters crossing the ceiling, their bodies looped over the wooden beams like twisted ropes.

The ordinary corridor returned before Daryan could see their heads.

Light and darkness continued alternating. Each change lasted only a moment, as though two versions of Ilvermorny occupied the same space and neither could hold its shape for long.

During one flicker, Daryan saw sleeping pumpkins and fading decorations. During the next, those pumpkins were rotting shells with black liquid leaking from their carved mouths. The silver cobwebs became thick strands stretched across the walls, and serpentine shapes moved behind them.

Daryan continued walking.

His feet carried him forward without instruction, and his arms hung motionless at his sides. He commanded himself to stop, but his body ignored him.

Panic tightened around his chest. He tried to shorten his steps, drag his feet, or turn toward the nearest doorway. Nothing changed. Even his breathing continued at the same slow rhythm, unaffected by the terror building inside him.

A ghost drifted through the wall ahead. The figure belonged to a thin woman dressed in robes from another century. She stopped when she noticed him and adjusted the lace collar beneath her transparent chin.

“Why are you not in bed?” she asked, watching him approach.

Daryan tried to answer. His lips remained closed, and his head did not turn toward her.

The corridor flickered.

In the darker version of the castle, the ghost vanished. Thick mist occupied the place where she had floated, and black fluid streamed down the wall behind it. A cluster of snakes moved along the base of the stones, their bodies passing over one another without a sound Daryan could separate from the whispers beginning ahead.

The ordinary corridor returned. The ghost now hovered several feet behind him, calling for Daryan to stop.

Why am I not in bed?

The thought passed through his mind without changing his movements. Daryan fought harder, straining against his own body until pain spread through his legs. He could feel the effort inside himself, but none of it reached his muscles.

The ghost called after him again. Her voice faded beneath the first whisper rising from the walls.

“Daryan.”

A faint movement followed beneath it. The sound was barely louder than fabric dragging across the floor, but Daryan recognized the distant echo of countless scales passing over stone. The slithering remained hidden beneath the voices, following him without seeming to grow any closer.

Daryan tried to call for the ghost. He attempted to scream until the muscles in his throat ached, but his body continued breathing calmly while his terror remained trapped inside him.

The castle flickered into darkness again.

This time, one of the snakes hung low enough from the ceiling that Daryan passed beneath it. Its body was wider than his arm, and black scales moved through the mist above his head. He could not look up or move aside. He felt the snake’s tail brush through his hair before the ordinary corridor returned and left him walking beneath an empty beam.

The contact sent horror surging through him. His heart should have been pounding, but even that felt strangely distant. The body carrying him through the castle did not respond to his fear.

When the light changed again, Daryan stood inside the passage from his dreams.

Pale blue lanterns floated along the arched ceiling. The cabinet waited at the far end, its black wood absorbing the light around it.

The corridor flickered.

Dark mist poured through the passage and gathered around Daryan’s legs. Black fluid covered the walls in wide, glistening streams. It leaked from the cabinet’s doors and spread across the floor in slow tendrils that reached toward him.

Snakes lined the outer edges of the corridor. They slithered through the mist and disappeared into cracks in the stone, while larger shapes hung from the rafters overhead. Some were coiled so tightly around the beams that Daryan could not tell where one body ended and another began.

The cabinet remained in both versions of the corridor.

That frightened him more than anything else.

The decorations, lanterns, stains, and snakes disappeared whenever the corridor changed, but the cabinet never moved. It existed beneath the ordinary blue light and within the darker place layered over it.

The cabinet trembled against the wall. Its hinges rattled, and the brass handles twisted from side to side as something attempted to open the doors from within.

Daryan continued walking.

“No,” he tried to say. His lips did not move, and his voice remained trapped inside his mind.

Light flooded the corridor and revealed deep scratches surrounding the cabinet. Darkness returned, filling those scratches with black liquid. Several snakes passed through the fluid without disturbing its surface.

Each flicker brought the cabinet closer.

Daryan felt trapped behind his own eyes. He could see his body moving without him, but he could not control his steps, turn his head, or close his eyes. He could not even look away from the cabinet waiting ahead.

The terror became unbearable. He wanted Geoffrey, his parents, Eruman, or anyone who might hear him, but no sound escaped his throat. For the first time, Daryan understood that he might reach the cabinet and open it while remaining powerless to stop himself.

The whispers intensified.

“Come closer.”

“Open it.”

“Let us out.”

Beneath the words, the slithering continued in distant waves. Thousands upon thousands of unseen snakes seemed to move through hidden passages beyond the cabinet, their scales echoing in the same impossible way as the voices. The sound remained beneath the whispering, but now Daryan could see portions of the vast movement whenever the corridor darkened.

Snakes writhed along the walls, clinging to the stone in tangled masses. Others hung from the rafters with their heads lowered toward him. Their eyes appeared as tiny pale points inside the mist before the next flicker returned the passage to normal.

Daryan’s arms began to rise.

He fought to lower them. His shoulders strained beneath his pajamas, but his hands continued reaching toward the cabinet. The helplessness was worse than the snakes and whispers because his body seemed willing to obey whatever waited beyond the doors.

The corridor flashed between light and darkness so quickly that the cabinet appeared to leap toward him. One moment it stood several feet away. The next, Daryan was directly before it.

The carvings around the frame twisted into unfamiliar symbols. Daryan attempted to read them, but every return of darkness rearranged their shapes.

Black fluid oozed through the carved lines. It gathered in thick drops along the bottom of the frame and fell upward into the mist.

The cabinet doors buckled outward. Something struck them from within, making the wood groan and the handles jerk beneath Daryan’s approaching fingers.

He could see his hands trembling. He could feel cold radiating from the brass, but he could not pull away.

Daryan’s fear became desperate enough to overwhelm every other thought. He begged his body to stop, pleaded with his hands to close, and silently called for anyone who might be able to hear him.

His fingertips brushed the handles.

Cold stabbed through his hands and climbed both arms. The black fluid on the cabinet’s surface moved toward his fingers, stretching into narrow strands.

The whispers became screams.

“HE IS COMING!”

“DARKNESS WILL REIGN FOR ETERNITY!”

The snakes reacted together. Thousands of bodies shifted through the corridor and along the rafters, filling the darker world with a vast echo of sliding scales. Pale eyes opened inside the mist until Daryan felt surrounded by them.

The cabinet doors began to separate.

Something seized Daryan around the waist. He was torn backward with enough force to pull his hands from the handles, but the trance held him even as the corridor spun between blinding silver light and complete darkness.

The snakes recoiled into the mist. Black fluid raced upward across the walls, and the cabinet vanished as the darker version of Ilvermorny collapsed around him.

Daryan struck the stone floor.

Control returned all at once. He dragged in a sharp breath as feeling rushed back into his arms and legs. The whispers had stopped, and the terrible pressure forcing him toward the cabinet was gone.

His vision blurred, but he could make out a large figure standing over him with a wand extended. Silver light faded from around Daryan’s body as Professor Sylveran knelt beside him.

“Daryan!”

Hearing his name in Sylveran’s familiar voice brought a rush of relief strong enough to loosen the terror gripping Daryan’s chest. Someone had found him. He had been pulled away from the cabinet, and he was no longer trapped inside his own body.

Daryan tried to answer, but exhaustion dragged him beneath the returning darkness before he could form the professor’s name.

Voices gradually returned.

Daryan could not open his eyes, but he recognized the infirmary from the scent of mint and clean linen. His body felt heavy, and something cool rested against his forehead.

“He walked directly through the common room,” Geoffrey was saying. Fear tightened his voice despite his effort to sound calm. “He didn’t look at anyone, and he wouldn’t answer me.”

“Why were you awake?” Professor Woods asked. She sounded close to the bed, and Daryan could hear her moving glass bottles across a tray.

“Chip woke me. He kept pecking my face and pulling at my blankets. When I looked over, Daryan’s bed was empty.”

Daryan tried to move, but none of his limbs responded. The memory of the cabinet returned, followed by the snakes hanging above him and the black fluid crawling toward his hands.

“I followed him downstairs,” Geoffrey continued. “He was already crossing the common room. I called his name, but he didn’t stop.”

“You should never follow someone into a darkened corridor alone,” Professor Sylveran told him. His sternness was softened by exhaustion.

“I know. I didn’t follow him far. You were near the gallery, so I came to get you.”

“You made the correct decision.” Sylveran’s voice sounded more reassuring than it usually did in class.

A familiar voice moved closer to the bed. “Where did you find him?”

Daryan recognized Eruman immediately. The worry beneath his controlled tone made Daryan attempt to open his eyes again, but they remained closed.

“He entered the same passage he previously identified,” Professor Sylveran explained. “He walked to the far wall and began reaching toward it.”

“Was the cabinet there?” Eruman asked.

“No. There was nothing in front of him except stone.”

Daryan remembered the black wood, the trembling doors, and the cold brass beneath his fingertips. He had touched them. They had felt as solid as the floor beneath his feet.

“His hands were positioned as though he intended to open a pair of doors,” Sylveran continued. “I pulled him away before he touched the wall.”

“Did you sense anything?” Professor Vale asked. Her voice came from somewhere near the foot of the bed.

“The stones were several degrees colder where he stood. I detected no concealment charm, altered space, or magical object.”

Professor Woods opened a drawer. “Did he take the Dreamless Sleep Draught?”

“He drank exactly one quarter of the bottle,” Geoffrey answered. “Ivan watched too. Daryan fell asleep in the middle of a sentence.”

“Where is the bottle?” Woods asked.

“I brought it.” Geoffrey moved closer, and glass touched the surface of a nearby table.

A cork came free with a soft pop. Professor Vale whispered an incantation, and a quiet chiming sound traveled through the infirmary.

“The potion has not been altered,” she reported after several moments. “There is no foreign residue on the glass, the cork, or the remaining draught. The measured dose should have prevented an ordinary dream.”

“What if he was not dreaming?” Eruman asked.

No one answered immediately.

Daryan remembered the ghost questioning him in the corridor. She had seen him walking through the school. The cold floor beneath his feet had been real, even while the castle changed around him.

“I inspected the dormitory and common room,” Professor Vale continued. “There is no summoning charm attached to his bed, clothing, belongings, or either entrance. Whatever moved him did not leave a spell behind.”

Eruman’s robes shifted beside the bed. “What did you use to pull him away?”

“A nonverbal Summoning Charm directed toward his clothing,” Sylveran answered. “The trance broke after I pulled him from the wall. He recognized me before he collapsed.”

Professor Woods spoke while examining something near Daryan’s wrist. “His pulse is stable, but the magical exhaustion has returned. Whatever happened required power from somewhere.”

“From him?” Eruman asked.

“I cannot determine that yet. His reserves are depleted, but that does not prove he supplied the magic.”

A tense silence followed. Daryan heard Eruman’s walking stick touch the floor as he moved away from the bed.

“I want the corridor inspected again.”

“We have examined it repeatedly,” Professor Sylveran reminded him. “The wall contains no doorway, hidden chamber, or recent enchantment.”

“Then we will examine it with different eyes.”

Professor Vale’s voice softened. “Eruman, exhausting yourself will not reveal something the castle refuses to show us.”

“I will not have my grandson dragged from his bed by something none of us can see.”

“We will search it again,” Sylveran promised. “I also recommend calling Dalon Marsdale.”

Eruman paused before asking, “Why Dalon?”

“He has experience tracing concealed magic through disturbed wards and falsified evidence. If the cabinet entered Ilvermorny through a method outside our protections, an Auror may recognize something we overlooked.”

“Contact him,” Eruman decided. “Ask him to come as soon as MACUSA can release him.”

Professor Woods adjusted the cool cloth resting against Daryan’s forehead before addressing Geoffrey. “You need to return to your dormitory. Mr. Marsdale will not awaken tonight.”

“I want to stay.” Geoffrey sounded as though he had expected the instruction and prepared himself to argue.

“His body needs time to recover, and I intend to make certain it receives that time. You may return before breakfast if you allow him to rest until then.”

Geoffrey hesitated. “Will someone stay with him?”

“I will be in the infirmary all night. He will not be alone.”

After several seconds, Geoffrey agreed to leave. His footsteps moved toward the doors, followed by the heavier steps of Professor Sylveran.

Daryan tried once more to open his eyes. His body refused to cooperate.

Professor Woods touched something cool against his lips, and a small amount of liquid entered his mouth. His thoughts drifted apart before he could identify the potion.

The infirmary disappeared again.

When Daryan finally opened his eyes, afternoon sunlight filled the room. His limbs felt heavy, and his head ached whenever he tried to remember the night.

Something warm rested against his left hand.

Ivan sat in a chair beside the bed with his head lying against the edge of the mattress. His spectacles were crooked, and a small line of drool glistened along one side of his face.

Daryan moved his hand, but Ivan remained asleep.

The infirmary was quiet except for the ticking of a silver clock and the soft clinking of medical instruments arranging themselves inside a nearby cabinet. The ordinary sounds eased some of the fear left by the nightmare, although Daryan’s eyes still moved toward the shadows beneath the beds.

He remembered walking through the flickering castle. He remembered the dark mist, the serpents hanging from the rafters, and the black fluid crawling across the cabinet.

His fingertips had touched the handles.

The doors had felt real.

The infirmary doors opened before Daryan could examine the memories further. Professor Woods entered with an older student wearing Pukwudgie robes and a silver infirmary badge beneath her Gordian Knot clasp. Her dark hair had been arranged in several long twists, and she carried a wooden case filled with medical instruments.

Ivan jerked awake and lifted his head. “What happened?”

He sat upright, noticed Daryan looking at him, and quickly wiped the side of his face with his sleeve.

“You’re awake,” Ivan said, attempting to straighten his crooked spectacles.

“I just woke up.”

“I sat here all morning, and you waited until the five minutes I fell asleep.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose.”

Ivan glanced toward Professor Woods. “He was awake when you entered, correct?”

“He appears to be,” Woods answered as she set several folded cloths on a nearby table.

Ivan looked mildly disappointed. “I wanted to be the first person here when you woke.”

“You were.”

“I was unconscious. That should not count.”

Daryan attempted to sit upright, but Professor Woods immediately moved beside the bed and arranged the pillows behind him.

“What time is it?” he asked once he was sitting comfortably.

“Nearly one in the afternoon. Your body required more rest than an ordinary night could provide.”

Daryan looked past her toward the empty infirmary. “Where is everyone?”

“They’re in class,” Ivan explained. “We’ve been taking turns sitting with you. Geoffrey stayed until breakfast, and Theo came before Magical History. Harper read two chapters of your assignment aloud because she said Professor Tyndale would have to give you credit under the infirmary rules.”

“Did I hear any of it?” Daryan asked.

“You were asleep.”

“Then how am I supposed to remember it?”

Ivan shrugged. “Harper said that was between you and your brain. She seemed confident that one of you would solve the problem.”

Professor Woods used the light from her wand to examine Daryan’s eyes. “This is Serenity Wallace. She is a sixth-year Pukwudgie and one of my student aides. Serenity intends to enter the Healing Arts after graduation.”

Serenity offered Daryan a reassuring smile. “Hello. I helped Professor Woods monitor your magical reserves this morning, but you were far too asleep to notice.”

“Hi.” Daryan became more aware of the fact that he was still wearing his pajamas.

Professor Woods turned toward Ivan. “I need to examine Daryan. You may wait outside.”

Ivan stood and straightened his robes. “Can I return afterward?”

“If I release him, you may accompany him to the common room.”

“I’ll be outside.” Ivan paused beside the door and looked back at Daryan. “Try to remain awake until I return. I do not want to miss it twice.”

Once Ivan left, Serenity placed the wooden case upon a nearby table. Several crystals, silver instruments, and narrow glass tubes filled with colored liquids rested inside.

Professor Woods checked Daryan’s pulse while Serenity recorded the result on a piece of parchment. Additional notes appeared beneath her handwriting as though an invisible healer were adding observations.

“Do you remember leaving your dormitory?” Woods asked.

“I thought I was dreaming,” Daryan admitted. “I could see everything, but I couldn’t control what my body was doing.”

“Tell us what you saw. Begin with the first thing you remember after falling asleep.”

Daryan described the flickering corridors, the ghost, and the cabinet trembling at the end of the passage. He explained how the castle alternated between its ordinary appearance and the darker version filled with mist.

“There were snakes in the other place,” he continued. The memory made him pull his hands closer to his body. “They were along the walls and hanging from the rafters. I couldn’t always see them because everything kept changing.”

Professor Woods maintained the same calm expression. “Approximately how many did you see?”

“I don’t know. There were too many to count, and I only saw parts of them. The slithering sounded like thousands.”

“Did any of them bite or wrap around you?”

“No. One brushed my hair when I walked beneath it, but it disappeared when the corridor changed.”

Serenity wrote quickly while Daryan described the black fluid oozing down the walls and gathering around the cabinet. He explained that the liquid had moved toward his fingers after he touched the handles.

“The cabinet remained visible in both versions of the corridor,” Daryan added. “Everything else changed, but it stayed in the same place.”

Professor Woods made a note of her own. “What do you remember after touching the handles?”

“Something pulled me backward, but I still couldn’t move for myself. The corridor kept changing until the cabinet, the snakes, and everything else disappeared.” Daryan rubbed his fingertips together as he remembered the moment. “Then I hit the floor, and I could control my body again.”

“Did you see who pulled you away?” Woods asked.

“Not clearly. My vision was blurry, but I saw Professor Sylveran standing over me. He knelt beside me and said my name.” Daryan’s shoulders loosened slightly at the memory. “That was when I knew I was safe. I tried to answer him, but I passed out before I could.”

Professor Woods lowered his wrist and studied him. “Is there anything else you have not reported?”

Daryan looked down at his right hand. Geoffrey’s demand returned to him. If you notice anything else impossible, you tell one of us and a professor.

“There was something before I collapsed last week,” he admitted. “I woke up on the floor after one of the dreams, and blue-white sparks were moving between my fingers.”

Professor Woods’s attention shifted immediately to his hand. “Was your wand nearby?”

“It was on the table beside my bed. I wasn’t touching it.”

“How long did the sparks remain?”

“Only a few seconds. They didn’t burn me, but my fingers tingled afterward.”

Serenity added the information to her parchment while Professor Woods examined both of Daryan’s hands.

“Why did you not mention this during your last examination?” Woods asked. Her voice remained calm, but Daryan could hear the seriousness beneath it.

“I wasn’t certain it had really happened. The room was dark, and I had just awakened.”

“Uncertainty is a reason to report unusual magic, not a reason to conceal it.”

“I know. I promised Geoffrey I would tell someone if anything else happened.”

Professor Woods’s expression softened slightly. “Then I am glad you are keeping that promise now.”

She nodded toward Serenity, who selected a clear crystal from the wooden case and held it several inches above Daryan’s chest. With a slow movement of her wand, she traced a circle around it.

Soft blue light appeared inside the crystal.

Serenity guided it from Daryan’s chest toward his head before moving down each arm. The light remained steady, although it brightened faintly when it passed over his right hand.

“His magical pathways appear normal,” Serenity reported. “There is some exhaustion, but no visible damage.”

Professor Woods selected a silver instrument resembling a compass. Its needle turned toward Daryan before settling into place.

“No foreign attachment and no active compulsion,” Woods said after examining the instrument. “Whatever controlled his movements is no longer affecting him.”

Serenity lowered the crystal. Its blue light disappeared as she began returning it to the case.

A faint silver pulse flashed inside it.

Serenity stopped. She lifted the crystal again and turned it slowly in her hand as the pulse faded, then returned several seconds later.

“What is it?” Daryan asked.

“I don’t know.” Serenity moved the crystal closer to him, but the silver light did not change.

Professor Woods stepped beside her. “Repeat the diagnostic.”

Serenity performed the same circular movement. Blue light filled the crystal and traveled over Daryan’s body, but nothing unusual appeared until she lowered it.

Several seconds passed before the silver pulse returned.

“It responds only after the charm ends,” Serenity said. Her earlier confidence had been replaced by careful concentration.

“To what?” Professor Woods asked.

Serenity slowly moved the crystal from side to side. The silver pulse brightened whenever she pointed it toward Daryan, although it never remained steady.

“There is some kind of connection.”

Professor Woods examined the compass again. “Nothing is attached to him.”

“I know. The connection doesn’t seem attached to anything in this room.”

“Every magical connection possesses a source.”

“I know that too.” Serenity closed her eyes and concentrated while holding the crystal between both hands.

The silver light stretched into a narrow thread. It moved several inches through the air, bent at an impossible angle, and disappeared.

Serenity opened her eyes. “It doesn’t connect to the here and now.”

Professor Woods looked at her. “Explain what you mean.”

“I can’t explain it properly. It doesn’t lead through this room or beyond the walls. It feels delayed, but it also feels unfinished.” Serenity studied the crystal as another weak pulse appeared. “It is like an echo arriving before the sound that created it.”

“That is not possible,” Professor Woods said, although her expression showed that she was considering the idea.

“I know.” Serenity sounded more unsettled by the contradiction than by Professor Woods’s doubt.

Daryan looked between them. “Is the cabinet causing it?”

“I cannot answer that,” Professor Woods told him. “We do not yet know whether this connection comes from the cabinet, the voices, your own magic, or something else entirely.”

She took the parchment from Serenity and added several notes. Her quill moved quickly, pausing only when another faint pulse appeared inside the crystal.

“Professor Sylveran and the Headmaster need to see these results. We will also repeat the examination when Mr. Marsdale is fully rested.”

“What happens now?” Daryan asked.

“Now you eat. If your readings remain stable, you may return to the Horned Serpent common room.”

“Can I go to class?”

“No. You have already experienced enough for one day.”

“I’ve missed most of my lessons.”

“And you will miss the remainder of them.” Professor Woods closed the wooden case with a firm click. “You will remain with another student at all times. The Pukwudgies have been instructed to monitor the common-room entrance and the surrounding corridors.”

Daryan glanced toward the walls. “What if I hear the voices or the slithering again?”

“Ask the air for a Pukwudgie and state clearly that you require assistance. The castle will carry your request to the nearest one.”

After hearing whispers and thousands of snakes inside the walls, Daryan was not certain he wanted the castle carrying anything on his behalf. Professor Woods appeared to notice his discomfort.

“If no Pukwudgie answers immediately, speak to a portrait,” she continued. “The figures can travel between frames and summon me, Professor Sylveran, or the Headmaster.”

“Am I supposed to take more of the sleeping draught tonight?”

“No. You will not take another sleeping potion until we understand how you walked through the castle after drinking the first dose.”

Daryan was not disappointed by that decision. The potion had placed him into a sleep deep enough to prevent him from waking while something led his body from the dormitory.

Professor Woods allowed Ivan to return after Daryan finished eating. She repeated the restrictions and instructed him to call for an adult if Daryan heard anything or began behaving strangely.

“I’ll stay with him,” Ivan promised. His expression remained more serious than usual.

“You are a companion, Mr. Kiljoy, not a guard,” Professor Woods reminded him. “Do not attempt to handle a magical emergency yourselves.”

Ivan nodded solemnly. “I will find someone larger and more qualified.”

“That will be acceptable.”

Daryan changed into clean school robes before leaving the infirmary. Serenity remained near Professor Woods’s desk, examining the diagnostic crystal. Silver light pulsed once inside it before fading.

A Pukwudgie waited outside the infirmary and followed Daryan and Ivan at a distance. Another stood near the staircase leading toward the eastern side of the castle. Neither spoke, but Daryan noticed the bows and poisoned arrows they carried.

The school seemed unusually quiet while most students remained in class. Hallow’s Eve decorations still lined the corridors, although several pumpkins had gone dark. Silver cobwebs were beginning to disappear from the pillars as small brushes worked their way through the strands without visible hands guiding them.

The ordinary appearance of the castle should have reassured Daryan. Instead, each dim corner reminded him of the other version hidden beneath it. He found himself looking toward the rafters for snakes and examining the walls for black fluid that was no longer there.

Ivan walked beside him without asking questions. He usually filled silence with observations or dry remarks, but he appeared to understand that Daryan needed time.

When they reached the Horned Serpent entrance, the crystal serpent lifted its head. Its jeweled eyes moved from Ivan to Daryan before it presented its question.

“What may travel across the world without taking a single step?”

“A thought,” Ivan answered after considering it for only a moment.

The entrance opened.

Sunlight entered the nearly empty common room through the arched windows. The crystal fountain produced a soft, steady sound at the center of the room, while several forgotten books shuffled themselves into neat stacks upon an abandoned table.

Chip flew from the windowsill and landed on Daryan’s shoulder. He pressed himself against Daryan’s neck and refused to move.

Ivan selected a chair near one of the fireplaces and opened his Astronomy book. He did not begin reading until Daryan sat across from him.

Neither boy spoke for several minutes. Daryan watched the flames while his mind returned to Serenity’s examination. Professor Sylveran had seen only an empty wall, but Daryan could still remember the cabinet’s cold brass beneath his fingers.

The common-room entrance opened later that afternoon. Geoffrey and Theo hurried inside with their school bags hanging from their shoulders.

Geoffrey crossed directly to Daryan and stopped close enough to examine his face. “Professor Woods released you?”

“She said I can stay here as long as someone remains with me.”

“I’m someone,” Geoffrey replied as he lowered himself into the nearest chair.

“So am I,” Theo added while placing a stack of books upon the table. “Although Ivan has already satisfied the requirement.”

Geoffrey continued looking Daryan over. “Did you tell Professor Woods everything?”

Daryan glanced toward his right hand. “I told her about the sparks.”

Geoffrey’s eyes widened. “What sparks?”

“The blue ones between my fingers when I woke up last week. They only lasted a few seconds.”

“You left that part out.” Geoffrey’s concern began turning into frustration.

“I wasn’t sure they were real,” Daryan explained before Geoffrey could begin arguing. “I told her now. She examined my hands, and Serenity used some kind of crystal to check my magic.”

“What did they find?” Theo asked as he sat across from them.

“They aren’t certain.” Daryan did not know how to explain an echo arriving before its sound, and Professor Woods had not given him permission to share every detail. “The Headmaster and Professor Sylveran are looking into it.”

Geoffrey accepted the answer reluctantly. He reached into his school bag and removed several pieces of parchment.

“Fine. Professor Wallaby assigned a written explanation of why partial transformations become unstable. You can start with that.”

Daryan stared at the assignment. “I was unconscious for most of the day.”

“And now you’re awake,” Ivan observed without looking up from his Astronomy book. “That is a considerable improvement.”

Theo opened his own notes. “Harper attempted to complete your Magical History reading for you, so you may want to determine how much your sleeping brain remembers first.”

“I remember nothing.”

“That will make the test quick,” Theo replied. “We can move directly to the reading.”

Daryan pulled the nearest piece of parchment toward him while Chip remained pressed against his neck. Geoffrey began explaining the Transfiguration assignment, Theo searched for the correct history chapter, and Ivan corrected both of them whenever they gave conflicting instructions.

The Pukwudgie stationed outside occasionally passed the open entrance, but no voices followed it through the wall. Daryan listened to his friends argue over the proper definition of a stable transformation and began copying the assignment onto his parchment.

 

 

Chapter 14

The Invisible Thread

The whispering fern waited until Daryan leaned close enough to trim one of its silver-tipped leaves before informing him that his hair resembled a nest abandoned by a deeply disappointed bird.

Its words emerged as a dry rustle from somewhere among the pale green fronds. Daryan stopped with his shears halfway open and stared at the plant, uncertain whether he had heard it correctly. The fern gave a delicate shiver that made every silver tip glint beneath the greenhouse lamps.

Geoffrey heard it too. His attempt to hide his laughter caused his shoulders to shake hard enough that the soil around his own fern trembled. “It has a point,” he whispered.

Daryan looked across the worktable. “Your plant hasn’t said anything yet.”

“It respects me.”

Geoffrey’s fern turned several leaves toward him and muttered that his ears appeared to have been attached as an afterthought. Theo covered his mouth with one gloved hand. Ivan continued loosening the soil around his plant, although a quiet sound escaped him that might have been a laugh.

Professor June Rosloe approached through the narrow aisle between the tables. Bits of dark soil clung to the cranberry apron covering her robes, and a cluster of tiny yellow flowers had attached themselves to one sleeve. They opened and closed whenever she moved her arm.

“Whispering ferns possess an unfortunate tendency to confuse cruelty with observation,” she explained. “You should listen when they comment upon water, light, or soil. Their opinions concerning human appearance may be safely ignored.”

At the neighboring table, a girl with smooth black hair glanced up from the fern she was trimming. “Mine criticized my handwriting yesterday,” she said in a calm, matter-of-fact voice. “I wouldn’t consider it a reliable judge.”

Daryan recognized Natalia Banks from the Sorting Ceremony. She had joined Horned Serpent and appeared in several of his shared lessons, but she normally spent her time with a small group of Horned Serpent girls near the windows of the Great Hall or the far side of the common room. She rarely spoke unless a professor called upon her, and when she did, her answers were usually precise enough to end the question completely.

“Thank you,” Daryan told her.

Natalia inclined her head before returning to her plant. “The fern required correcting.”

Professor Rosloe’s mouth twitched with amusement. She inspected the cut Daryan had made before carefully lifting one of the remaining leaves between two gloved fingers. “Clean angle, no damage to the stem, and the plant is insulting you instead of screaming. That means you are doing well.”

The fern muttered that Professor Rosloe’s standards had declined.

“I heard that,” she warned it.

The plant immediately folded several leaves over its center and pretended to be occupied with absorbing sunlight. Professor Rosloe remained beside Daryan’s table longer than the work required. Her attention moved from his hands to his face, searching for signs that he had become dizzy or distracted.

“How are you feeling this morning, Mr. Marsdale?”

“Fine, Professor. Nothing hurts, and I haven’t heard anything unusual.”

“Other than the plant.”

“Other than the plant.”

Rosloe nodded, apparently satisfied, and continued toward the next group. Daryan resumed trimming, but he noticed Geoffrey watching him from across the table. Theo checked him whenever he thought Daryan was not looking, and Ivan had positioned their equipment so Daryan would not need to reach across the table for anything.

They were trying to be subtle. None of them possessed the skill.

The professors were not much better. In the days since Hallow’s Eve, Daryan had resumed his regular lessons, but his schedule included brief morning examinations with Professor Bella Woods. The infirmary matron checked his eyes, tested his reflexes, asked about his sleep, and passed a warm golden light around his head to examine the protective layers of his magic. Once she became convinced that he was recovering, the visits shortened from formal examinations to a few questions whenever she encountered him at breakfast.

Rumors moved through the castle more persistently than the medical attention. Most students knew only that Daryan had collapsed during the Hallow’s Eve celebration and spent part of the following day in the infirmary. One version claimed that a ghost had attacked him. Another involved a cursed dessert from the feast. A second-year Thunderbird confidently told several people that Daryan had cast a spell while asleep and accidentally trapped himself inside a wall.

The truth remained limited to Daryan’s friends, several professors, and the members of his family. Even among them, no one understood what had reached into his dreams, why the cabinet had called to him, or what the other version of the corridor had been.

Daryan preferred the absurd rumors to the frightened looks of the people who knew more.

After Herbology, Geoffrey, Theo, and Ivan surrounded him as they crossed the southern courtyard. Geoffrey walked on his right, Theo remained on his left, and Ivan followed closely enough that the four of them occupied almost the entire width of the path. Harper and Parker joined them near the entrance to the castle, completing the same protective formation they had adopted since Daryan returned to lessons.

Daryan stopped beneath the stone archway. The others stopped with him so quickly that Harper nearly walked into Theo.

“You know I can walk without being guarded on every side,” Daryan said.

“We aren’t guarding you,” Geoffrey replied. His answer came too quickly to sound convincing.

Theo adjusted the strap of his book bag. “We happen to be traveling in the same direction.”

“All six of us?”

“Only as far as the next junction,” Parker explained. “I need the western staircase.”

Harper lifted her Transfiguration book. “I’m going to Professor Wallaby’s class with the rest of you.”

“That still doesn’t explain why everyone is surrounding me.”

Ivan looked from Daryan to the others. “He has discovered the arrangement.”

“It was not difficult,” Daryan told him. “You nearly pushed a third-year into a suit of armor because he walked too close to me yesterday.”

“He should have watched where he was going,” Geoffrey said.

The irritation Daryan had carried from the greenhouse began to fade. Geoffrey’s answer was defensive, but fear sat beneath it. Daryan remembered awakening in the infirmary and learning that Geoffrey had seen him leave the dormitory without responding to his name. Theo had gathered every assignment Daryan missed, Ivan had refused to leave the chair beside his bed, and Harper had read aloud because she thought hearing a familiar voice might help him wake. Parker had spent most of that day asking Professor Woods questions no one else had considered.

They were not treating him like he might break. They were making certain they did not lose him again.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Daryan said more gently. “The protective charms aren’t even in place yet, and Professor Woods already said I can attend lessons. You don’t have to build a wall around me every time we use a corridor.”

Geoffrey looked down at the stone beneath his shoes. “You didn’t know you were going anywhere last time.”

Daryan could not argue with that. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Theo said. The tension in his narrow face eased, though he still looked troubled.

“I’m not apologizing for what happened. I’m apologizing for becoming annoyed when all of you are only worried.”

Harper lightly pushed his shoulder. “Good. Now that we have settled it, we need to move before five of us are late to Transfiguration and Parker misses whatever class he is refusing to tell us about.”

“I told you twice,” Parker said. “Magical Creatures.”

“Then you should probably start walking toward it.”

They continued together until the next junction. Parker turned toward the western staircase, but he stopped at the first step and looked back at Daryan.

“You’ll be with them until dinner?”

“I’ll be with someone all day,” Daryan assured him.

Parker appeared satisfied. He lifted one hand in farewell before disappearing down the staircase.

Harper watched him leave before turning toward Daryan. “He worries quietly.”

“He asks a lot of questions for someone who worries quietly,” Geoffrey said.

“That is how he keeps from worrying loudly.”

The remaining five students continued through the eastern corridor toward Transfiguration. Their formation loosened as they walked. Geoffrey still remained beside Daryan, and Theo continued glancing at him whenever the stairs became crowded, but at least they no longer looked like an escort transporting an unusually short prisoner through the castle.

The first letters from Nashville arrived the following morning.

A broad brown owl descended into the Great Hall during breakfast and landed between Daryan’s porridge and Geoffrey’s pumpkin juice. Three envelopes were tied to its leg with blue cord. The owl extended that leg toward Daryan, then lowered its head and drank from Geoffrey’s glass before either boy could stop it.

Geoffrey watched the level of his juice fall. “I suppose that belongs to you now.”

The owl continued drinking without acknowledging him.

Daryan recognized the handwriting on all three envelopes. Damon had addressed one in large, dark letters. Dalon’s writing was narrow and precise, while Aryanna’s name filled most of the front of the thickest envelope.

He looked toward the faculty table. Eruman was speaking with Professor Vale, but his attention shifted the moment Daryan looked at him. His expression softened with regret.

“He told them,” Daryan said.

“He had to,” Geoffrey replied. “Your mother would have been furious if she found out from anyone else.”

“She is probably furious anyway.”

“Those things can happen together.”

Daryan began with Damon’s letter. His father assured him that no one blamed him for dreaming or sleepwalking, but he also made it clear that hiding frightening problems usually gave them more time to become dangerous. He wrote briefly about the deli, the colder weather in Nashville, and Aryanna’s habit of checking the speaking glass several times each evening in case Daryan or Eruman called. At the bottom of the parchment, Damon added that Daryan’s room was exactly as he had left it, except for the basket of folded laundry Aryanna kept placing on his chair because she had not adjusted to his absence.

Dalon’s message was shorter. He had reported the cabinet to a trusted superior at MACUSA without identifying Daryan. No dangerous or restricted magical cabinet had been legally transported to Ilvermorny, and the official delivery records contained nothing that matched the conversation Daryan overheard in Hushnote Quarter. Dalon was investigating private sellers and unauthorized transportation routes, although he warned that searching without an accurate description would take time.

Daryan opened Aryanna’s letter last.

Her first line told him that she had spent nearly half an hour deciding how angry she was allowed to sound while writing to a child who had already frightened himself enough. The sentences that followed were calmer, but the pressure of her pen had left several words pressed deeply into the parchment.

She asked why he had hidden the dreams and reminded him that protecting him remained her responsibility even when hundreds of miles separated them. She understood that he had not recognized the danger immediately. What hurt her was knowing that he had become frightened and still convinced himself that silence would make the situation easier for everyone else.

Near the end, her writing became less steady.

You are my son before you are a wizard, a student, or the Headmaster’s great-grandson. Nothing frightening that happens to you will ever become a burden simply because you tell me about it. I may worry, and I may become angry when I am scared, but I would rather be afraid with the truth than comfortable because you hid it from me.

Please write back. You do not need to tell me that everything is fine if it is not. I only need you to be honest.

I love you.

Mom

Daryan read the last few lines again. The surrounding Great Hall seemed farther away than it had a moment earlier. Students talked across the tables, plates clinked, and owls continued descending with morning deliveries, but the letter held his complete attention.

“She’s angry,” Theo observed from across the table.

Geoffrey shook his head. “She’s frightened.”

Ivan spread preserves across a biscuit. “Those conditions are not mutually exclusive.”

Daryan folded the letter along its original creases. “I should answer before classes.”

“You have twelve minutes,” Theo said after checking the clock.

“That is not enough time,” Geoffrey told him. “You should wait until this evening so you don’t write something foolish because you’re rushing.”

Daryan reluctantly placed the three letters inside his book bag. The brown owl finished Geoffrey’s pumpkin juice, accepted a piece of sausage from Ivan, and departed without displaying the slightest regret.

That evening, Daryan sat near the common-room windows with a clean piece of parchment in front of him. The golden crystal in the carved Horned Serpent’s forehead cast a low light across the room. Rain tapped against the glass, and the castle’s lamps reflected in the darkness outside.

His first attempt at answering Aryanna became an explanation of why he had believed the dreams would disappear. The second sounded like a promise that nothing frightening would ever happen again, which Geoffrey immediately pointed out was not something Daryan could guarantee. Daryan crumpled both pieces of parchment and stared at the third.

Geoffrey sat beside him with a Charms book open in front of him. He had not turned a page in several minutes. “You’re still trying to make her stop worrying.”

“I don’t want her to be scared.”

“You can’t fix that by telling her what you think she wants to hear.”

“What am I supposed to say?”

Geoffrey rested his arms on the table. “Tell her why you didn’t write. Then tell her what is actually happening now.”

Across the room, Theo and Ivan worked through a Magical History assignment with several other Horned Serpents. Neither looked toward Daryan, though Theo had already sharpened an extra quill and left it within reach.

Daryan dipped his pen into the ink and began again.

He told Aryanna that he had hidden the dreams because everything at home had finally seemed happy. She was learning magic, reconnecting with Eruman, and discovering a part of herself she had believed was gone. Daryan had feared that bringing the cabinet into their lives would take that happiness away.

He admitted that the voices frightened him before he told anyone. He had kept waiting for the dreams to stop, then waited for the professors to solve the mystery without his family needing to know. He apologized without promising that he would never be afraid again. Instead, he promised that fear would not be the reason he remained silent.

Daryan ended by explaining that Professor Woods believed he was physically well and that Eruman and Professor Vale planned to examine the connection more closely. He would write again after the examination, even if they discovered nothing.

Geoffrey read the completed letter and returned it without suggesting a correction. “That sounds like you.”

“I’m not sure that makes it good.”

“It makes it honest.”

Chip was sleeping on the back of a nearby chair. When Daryan called his name, the little gray owl opened his enormous amber eyes and hopped onto the table. He watched attentively while Daryan rolled the parchment and tied it securely to his leg.

“Take this directly to Mom,” Daryan instructed. “If Dad tries to distract you with food, you can accept it after you deliver the letter.”

Chip chirped as though the arrangement was acceptable. He nipped Daryan’s finger, spread his wings, and flew through the enchanted window. Daryan watched his small shape cross the darkness until the rain swallowed him from view.

Two days later, a folded note appeared beside Daryan’s breakfast plate, requesting his presence in the Headmaster’s office after his final lesson.

Geoffrey, Theo, and Ivan accompanied him through the former headmasters’ gallery that afternoon. The portraits lining the walls followed their progress with varying degrees of interest. One former Headmistress stopped a conversation with her neighboring frame to watch Daryan pass, while an elderly wizard pretended to read until the boys moved beneath him.

Professor Sylveran waited outside Eruman’s office. His large frame nearly filled the doorway, and the scar near his jaw appeared darker beneath the corridor lamps.

“The examination may require some time,” he told Geoffrey, Theo, and Ivan. “You should return to your common room.”

“We could wait out here,” Geoffrey suggested.

“You could,” Sylveran agreed, “but opening this door to discover three anxious first-years standing in the corridor would not improve anyone’s confidence.”

“We could wait near the staircase,” Theo offered.

Daryan managed a faint smile. “I’ll meet you upstairs when it’s over.”

Geoffrey hesitated. He looked from Daryan to Professor Sylveran, then finally nodded. “If you miss dinner, we’re coming back.”

“That will not be necessary,” Sylveran said.

“It probably won’t be,” Geoffrey replied, which was not the same as agreeing.

He followed Theo and Ivan toward the staircase. Daryan watched them leave before entering the office.

Eruman stood beside a circular table near the windows. Professor Vale occupied the other side, arranging a collection of delicate silver instruments across its surface. Several resembled clocks without numbers, their crystal hands turning at different speeds. One consisted of three rings rotating around an empty center. Another held a thin needle suspended inside a glass sphere, though the needle pointed upward rather than north.

A shallow stone basin rested in the middle of the table. Silver mist moved within it like liquid disturbed by a current no one could see.

Eruman came around the table. He wore his formal robes, but the concern in his face belonged entirely to Daryan’s grandfather rather than the Headmaster. “Before we begin, Professor Woods has assured us that this examination will not interfere with your recovery. If anything causes pain or becomes too frightening, you will tell us immediately.”

“I will.”

Professor Vale lifted one of the instruments. As her fingers closed around it, threads of colored light appeared between its narrow metal rings. “Serenity detected a connection that did not appear to belong entirely to the present moment. Today, we intend to determine whether we can observe that connection more clearly.”

“Is that what these measure?”

“They reveal relationships between different forms of magic,” Vale explained. “A wand develops a connection to the person it chooses. An enchanted portrait remains tied to the memories used in its creation. Portkeys connect objects to destinations, while certain communication devices maintain a controlled path between distant locations. Most of those connections are intentional and follow predictable rules.”

“And this one doesn’t.”

“We do not yet know what rules it follows.”

Eruman pulled out a chair. “Sit here, grandson.”

Daryan lowered himself into it. Professor Sylveran remained near the door with his arms loosely folded, close enough to intervene without crowding him. Daryan felt safer with him there, although seeing the professor also brought back the blurred image of his face above the corridor floor.

Professor Vale began with the glass sphere. She held it over Daryan’s left hand, moved it slowly across his chest, then passed it above his head. The suspended needle remained still until it reached his right shoulder. There, it turned sharply toward him and began vibrating.

A low note emerged from the instrument.

Vale passed it over him a second time. The same reaction occurred near his right shoulder, though the sound grew slightly louder as she moved toward his hand.

“Does that hurt?” Eruman asked.

“No. I can’t feel anything.”

“That does not mean nothing is present,” Vale said. She positioned the rotating rings near Daryan’s wrist. Threads of pale light gathered inside them, appearing and vanishing too quickly to follow. “The protection created by Miss Wallace and Professor Woods has prevented further intrusion, but the original attachment remains.”

Daryan looked at his bare wrist. “Can the cabinet still reach me?”

“Not easily,” Eruman answered. “Professor Vale and I intend to strengthen the barrier after the examination. First, we need to understand what is pressing against it.”

Professor Vale glanced toward the stone basin. “A spoken description would depend upon what Mr. Marsdale noticed while terrified and unable to control his body. The stored memory may reveal details he did not consciously recognize.”

Daryan understood what she meant. Eruman had shown Aryanna a copied memory in an ordinary bowl of water after their visit to Hushnote. This basin appeared older and far more powerful.

“You won’t have to enter my mind, will you?” he asked.

“No,” Eruman assured him. “You will choose the memory and allow me to make a copy. Nothing will be removed, and neither of us will see anything beyond what you deliberately recall.”

Daryan’s gaze settled on the moving silver surface. Remembering the corridor while awake was unpleasant. The thought of watching himself trapped inside it made his palms damp.

Professor Sylveran shifted near the door. “You are not required to do this today.”

Daryan looked at him. Sylveran’s expression remained stern, but there was no impatience in it. He would accept refusal without asking Daryan to justify it.

“I want to know what happened,” Daryan said. “I don’t want it hiding because I’m afraid to look at it.”

Eruman rested one hand against his shoulder. “Then we will look together.”

He touched the tip of his wand to Daryan’s temple. “Begin with leaving the dormitory. Do not pursue the fear. Allow the memory to move at its own pace.”

Daryan closed his eyes.

The dormitory returned in broken impressions. Dark curtains surrounded his bed. Chip shifted on the bedpost. Geoffrey’s voice called his name from somewhere behind him, but Daryan’s sleeping body did not respond. The room slid away as bare feet crossed cold stone.

Then came the corridor.

The whispering voices filled his mind before he saw the cabinet. Beneath them moved the faint sound of scales dragging over stone. Thousands upon thousands of snakes slithered somewhere beyond sight, their movement echoing through a space too large to belong inside the castle.

Eruman slowly drew his wand away. A silver strand followed the tip, thin as a thread of molten glass. He lowered it into the basin, and the mist opened to receive it.

Professor Vale dimmed the lamps. The office walls receded into shadow as the memory rose above the basin and expanded.

A transparent image of Daryan emerged first. He walked barefoot through the corridor, his face empty and his arms hanging stiffly at his sides. Geoffrey appeared behind him near the dormitory door, calling his name. The sleeping Daryan never turned.

The memory moved through the castle.

From outside the experience, Daryan saw details he had not recognized while trapped within it. The familiar corridor and the darker version did not simply replace one another. They occupied the same space, flickering like two images fighting to remain visible.

In the ordinary corridor, lamps glowed against clean stone. Portraits of former headmasters watched the wandering child with alarm. One painted witch left her frame and disappeared into the neighboring portrait, apparently searching for help. A translucent ghost passed through an archway, noticed Daryan, and followed at a cautious distance.

The light failed.

Dark mist flooded the passage.

The walls became older and narrower, their stones split by deep cracks. Thick black fluid oozed between them, gathering in sluggish trails that crawled toward the floor. It reflected no light and left stains like burned shadows behind it. The rafters overhead had replaced the arched ceiling, and long shapes hung between them.

At first, Daryan thought they were ropes.

One lifted its head.

Snakes covered the beams. Some coiled tightly around the wood, while others hung in twisting clusters, their bodies sliding over one another without falling. More moved along the outer edges of the corridor, half concealed by the mist. Their scales made the quiet, endless sound Daryan had heard beneath the voices. None crossed his path. They remained near the walls, following him from the edges as though escorting him toward the cabinet.

The corridor flickered back.

The black fluid vanished. The rafters became stone. The snakes disappeared, although their slithering remained beneath the whispering for several seconds longer.

Professor Vale moved closer to the basin. “The sensory overlap continues after the visual change.”

“Daryan heard the second location even when he could not see it,” Eruman said.

The memory continued without pausing. Each darkened interval lasted longer. The mist grew denser, and the black fluid spread farther down the walls. The ghost remained visible whenever the ordinary corridor returned, but it vanished from the darker place. It seemed unable to cross whatever separated the two versions.

Professor Sylveran entered the memory near the far end of the passage. He called Daryan’s name, but the sleeping boy did not react.

Watching that moment tightened Daryan’s chest. He remembered hearing something beyond the screams, but the cabinet’s hold had been too complete for him to understand the voice or feel hope. His body continued forward.

The cabinet stood at the end of both corridors.

Everything else changed around it. Stone became rotting timber. Portraits became black stains. Lamps became faint blue flames smothered by mist. The cabinet remained solid and unmoving, its dark wood absorbing every kind of light. Tarnished brass covered the hinges, while shallow carvings crawled around the frame like roots or intertwined serpents.

The doors trembled.

Whispers poured through the narrow gap between them. Voices begged, warned, laughed, and argued until individual words disappeared beneath the confusion. The slithering grew louder along the walls and rafters. Thousands of bodies moved through the darkness while none entered the center of the corridor.

Memory-Daryan reached for the handles.

The real Daryan gripped the arms of his chair. Eruman’s hand remained on his shoulder, steady and warm.

Professor Sylveran cast the Summoning Charm.

The spell struck Daryan from behind and tore him away from the cabinet before his fingers could close around the handles. For one terrible instant, the dark corridor stretched with him. The mist reached like hooked fingers, the snakes lifted their heads, and the black fluid raced upward across the walls.

Then Daryan’s body crossed some invisible boundary.

The darker passage collapsed.

The ordinary corridor returned around him as he struck the floor. The cabinet vanished with the mist, leaving only blank stone at the far end. For the first time, the trance released him. His face changed as awareness returned, weak and disoriented.

Professor Sylveran reached him and knelt. His mouth formed Daryan’s name as his voice finally reached through the confusion.

The boy on the floor turned toward him. His eyes struggled to focus, but recognition reached his face. Relief softened the terror for one brief moment before his body went limp and the memory dissolved into silver mist.

The office remained silent after the image disappeared.

Daryan realized that his breathing had become shallow. Eruman crouched in front of him, blocking his view of the basin.

“You are in my office,” Eruman said gently. “The corridor is gone. Professor Sylveran brought you away from it.”

Daryan nodded and forced himself to breathe more slowly. The pressure in his chest gradually loosened.

Professor Vale relit the lamps. Warm light returned to the room, revealing the familiar desk, bookshelves, and circular windows. Professor Sylveran moved away from the door and poured water into a glass without being asked. He handed it to Daryan, who drank until the shaking in his fingers eased.

“That place wasn’t only a dream,” Daryan said.

“We cannot make that conclusion yet,” Vale replied, though her voice had become gentler. “Dreams can produce consistent environments, particularly when influenced by outside magic.”

“The cabinet remained stable,” Sylveran observed. “Nothing else did.”

Eruman turned toward the basin. “The darker corridor does not resemble any accessible section of Ilvermorny. Its structure is inconsistent with the castle, and neither the ghost nor the portraits crossed into it.”

“Could it be somewhere else?” Daryan asked. “A real place that the cabinet made me see?”

“It could be,” Vale said. “It may also be a magical space formed between locations. What matters for the moment is that the cabinet occupied both versions. Whatever is connected to you appears able to project its surroundings into your mind while drawing your body toward a physical point within the castle.”

“The wall,” Daryan said. “There wasn’t really a cabinet there after Professor Sylveran pulled me away.”

“No,” Sylveran answered. “There was only stone.”

Professor Vale selected the instrument made from three rotating rings. “Now that we know what the connection was attempting to show you, we may be able to expose its path.”

She held the device above Daryan’s right hand. The rings began turning in opposite directions, accelerating until their edges blurred. A thin sound filled the office, high enough to make Daryan’s teeth ache.

Pale light gathered between his fingers.

For a moment, it resembled the blue-white sparks that had snapped across his hand after the earlier nightmare. Then the glow stretched into a thread so fine that it almost vanished against his skin. It circled his fingers, wound around his wrist, and continued through the air toward the office door.

Daryan stared at it. “Is that attached to me?”

Professor Vale moved the instrument aside. The thread remained. “Yes.”

“Can you remove it?”

Eruman approached and held his wand near Daryan’s wrist. Silver light traveled along the thread, making its path easier to see. “Not until we know what will happen when it is severed. A magical connection can carry force in both directions. Breaking it carelessly might injure you or cause whatever is on the opposite end to act unpredictably.”

The thread passed through the closed office door without leaving a hole.

Professor Sylveran opened it. The pale line continued into the gallery beyond.

Eruman offered Daryan his hand. “Stay beside me.”

They followed the thread through the corridor. The former headmasters stopped their conversations as the group passed. Several leaned from their frames to study the strand crossing the air. One elderly Headmistress raised a painted wand and attempted to touch it, but the thread passed through her hand without reacting.

It led beneath a stone archway, crossed the gallery, and climbed a curving staircase. Daryan remained between Eruman and Sylveran while Professor Vale followed with the rotating instrument.

The path appeared purposeful at first. It turned at landings, passed through doorways, and followed the eastern side of the castle. Daryan’s heart beat faster with every step. He began to wonder whether the connection would lead them to the corridor from his dream or reveal a hidden entrance everyone had overlooked.

On the fourth floor, the thread turned into a narrower passage lined with tall windows. Rain struck the glass, making the mountains beyond them disappear beneath gray sheets of water. The thread crossed the corridor and entered the center of a solid stone wall.

Eruman stopped.

Professor Vale touched her wand to the surface. A web of white light spread across the stones, entered every seam, and returned to her wand. She repeated the spell from a second angle before examining the floor and ceiling.

“There is no door,” she said. “No concealment charm, expansion, transported space, or sealed passage.”

Professor Sylveran pressed one hand against the wall. “The stone is original.”

“Then where does the thread go?” Daryan asked.

Eruman closed his fingers around the pale strand.

It brightened between them, illuminating the lines of his hand. For one second, Daryan thought the connection might pull Eruman through the wall or reveal whatever waited beyond it.

The thread disappeared.

It did not snap. No loose end remained. The light simply ceased at the point where Eruman held it, as though the space containing the rest of it had been removed.

Professor Vale raised the ringed device again. It whirred softly but produced no light beyond Daryan’s wrist.

“The attachment remains,” she said. “Its path can no longer be expressed through physical distance.”

Daryan looked at the blank wall. “Serenity said it wasn’t connected to the here and now.”

“I believe she sensed this same disruption,” Eruman replied. His gaze remained fixed on the stone. “The thread leaves the castle without crossing the space beyond this wall.”

“Does that mean it leads to the past?”

“Not necessarily. Time is one boundary magic can cross, but it is not the only one. Some enchanted spaces exist between ordinary locations. Others may overlap the same physical place without touching it.”

“Like the two corridors?”

“Possibly.”

Professor Vale lowered the instrument. “We have learned enough to strengthen the protection. Continuing to force the thread into view may alert whatever occupies the other end.”

That possibility sent coldness across Daryan’s back. He glanced at his wrist, though the thread was invisible again.

They returned to the office by a different route. Professor Sylveran checked every intersection before allowing Daryan to pass, while Eruman remained close enough that the sleeve of his robe occasionally brushed Daryan’s arm.

Professor Vale moved the silver instruments away from the center of the table. “The protective charms will not remove ordinary dreams or alter your memories. They are intended to prevent external magic from entering your thoughts or directing your body while you sleep.”

“Will I know they’re there?”

“You may experience pressure behind your eyes for several days. Your sleep could feel unusually deep, and concentration may require more effort until your mind adjusts. Any missing time, confusion, or return of the voices must be reported immediately.”

“I understand.”

Vale studied him until Daryan added, “I promise.”

Eruman and Professor Vale took positions on opposite sides of his chair. Professor Sylveran drew his wand and placed a circular ward around the table. Pale blue lines spread across the floor, enclosing Daryan, Eruman, and Vale within a ring of quiet light.

“Close your eyes,” Eruman instructed. “Think of somewhere you feel safe.”

Daryan first pictured his bedroom in Nashville. He saw the narrow mirror above his dresser, the window where Chip had learned to wait for letters, and the corner where his Ilvermorny trunk had stood before the journey to school. The image shifted to the deli, where Damon moved behind the counter while Aryanna sat near the register with a book open in front of her.

A cool pressure touched Daryan’s temples.

Professor Vale’s magic appeared as blue light beyond his closed eyelids. It moved carefully around the edges of his thoughts, tracing a boundary without entering the memories themselves. Eruman’s spell followed in silver, warmer and steadier. The two colors crossed above him and descended like strands being woven around an invisible shape.

The office sounds grew distant. Daryan could still hear the rain and the low murmur of the portraits beyond the door, but they seemed to come from the far side of deep water. Pressure built behind his forehead. For a moment, the faintest whisper moved somewhere beyond it.

The blue and silver light tightened.

The whisper vanished.

Daryan felt the barrier settle into place, not like a wall but like a second surface around his mind. It yielded when his own thoughts moved through it and became firm whenever something pressed from outside.

“Breathe normally,” Eruman said. His voice reached Daryan without difficulty. “The protection recognizes you. It will not prevent you from entering or leaving your own thoughts.”

The pressure gradually faded. When Daryan opened his eyes, the light around the table was dissolving into small silver sparks. Professor Vale examined him with the glass sphere. Its needle trembled once near his right shoulder, then became still.

“The connection is quiet,” she announced.

“Is it gone?” Daryan asked.

“No,” Vale said. “It can no longer reach the part of your mind it used before.”

Daryan looked toward the basin, where the copied memory rested again as harmless silver mist. The thread remained attached, and the cabinet still existed somewhere beyond the wall, the castle, or possibly the present. Even so, the silence inside his head felt different. It was protected now rather than merely empty.

“There is something I want to ask,” he said.

Eruman pulled a chair closer and sat beside him. “Go ahead.”

“Theo thinks we might find information about enchanted cabinets in the library. We wouldn’t search the castle or try any spells. We would only read.”

Professor Sylveran’s expression suggested that he had expected a much more dangerous request.

Eruman considered it. “Researching published information is reasonable, provided the library remains the only place you investigate.”

“We won’t leave the school grounds or look for the corridor.”

“You will not test any instructions, touch unfamiliar artifacts, enter restricted passages, or pursue anything that claims to be the cabinet.”

“We won’t.”

Professor Vale took a narrow card from Eruman’s desk and wrote several lines across it. “This will permit you to consult the controlled section on magical transportation and connected objects. The librarian will select the books herself. It does not grant access to cursed-object records, private faculty archives, or restricted spellwork.”

Daryan accepted the card. “Thank you.”

“Learning is encouraged at Ilvermorny,” Vale said. “Recklessness is not. Be certain you remember the difference.”

Professor Sylveran escorted Daryan to the entrance of the Horned Serpent common room. Geoffrey, Theo, and Ivan were waiting around a small table near the windows. Their books were open, but all three looked toward the door before Daryan had taken two steps inside.

“You said you weren’t going to wait outside the office,” Daryan told them.

“We didn’t,” Geoffrey replied. “We waited here.”

Theo noticed the signed card in Daryan’s hand. “What is that?”

“Permission to search the library.”

The three boys abandoned their books almost immediately. They followed Daryan upstairs, where he explained the memory, the thread, and the protective charms inside the privacy of their dormitory.

Theo retrieved a blank notebook from his trunk before Daryan reached the part about the wall. He wrote the date across the top of the first page and divided the parchment into sections for known facts, unanswered questions, and possible explanations.

Ivan leaned over his shoulder. “Do you take notes whenever one of us experiences a supernatural threat?”

“This is the first supernatural threat one of us has experienced.”

“That you know of,” Geoffrey said.

Ivan glanced toward his bed. “My missing shoe remains suspicious.”

Theo ignored them. “Did the thread always lead through corridors?”

“Until it entered the wall.”

“Did it break?”

“No. It vanished when Grandfather touched it.”

“That matters,” Theo said, recording the detail. “A broken connection should have an end.”

Geoffrey sat beside Daryan. “What did the protection feel like?”

“Like being underwater at first. Then it felt as though something closed around my thoughts, but I can still think through it.”

“Can you hear anything now?”

Daryan listened. Rain drummed on the dormitory windows. Students talked in the common room below, and Chip scratched at the wooden perch near the wardrobe.

“No whispers.”

Geoffrey released a breath he had been holding.

The library search began the next afternoon under the librarian’s direct supervision. She examined Professor Vale’s authorization twice before leading the boys into a section devoted to magical transportation. Tall shelves divided the area into narrow aisles, and brass chains secured several older volumes to their reading stands.

“The books on this table may be consulted,” she told them. “Nothing is to be copied without noting its source, and no experimental diagrams are to be completed. If a page instructs you to draw a symbol, arrange objects, speak an incantation, or provide a drop of blood, you will close the book and bring it to me.”

Geoffrey glanced at the stack she had selected. “How often do library books ask for blood?”

The librarian gave him a long, unreadable look before turning away. Her robes swept behind her as she walked back toward the main desk without answering.

Geoffrey watched her leave. “That was less reassuring than an answer.”

Their first afternoon produced descriptions of ordinary enchanted furniture. They found wardrobes containing expansion charms, cupboards capable of arranging potion ingredients by danger level, and a cabinet that refused to open until its owner completed a series of increasingly personal riddles.

Geoffrey became interested in a wardrobe that selected and pressed clothing for its owner. Theo pointed to the paragraph explaining that every garment had to be washed and placed inside first.

“That removes the useful part,” Geoffrey complained.

“The useful part is organization,” Theo said.

“The useful part should be avoiding laundry.”

Ivan turned a page in another book. “This cabinet bites unauthorized users.”

Geoffrey moved his chair farther from the shelves. “I have changed my position. Ordinary laundry is acceptable.”

Harper and Parker began joining them whenever their schedules allowed. Harper climbed the rolling ladders to inspect titles near the ceiling, while Parker concentrated on artifact indexes and records of magical objects removed from private collections. The searches produced more questions than answers, but the work was different from waiting helplessly for another dream. Each useless book eliminated one possibility, while every obscure reference gave Theo another term to add to his notebook.

Life inside the castle continued around the investigation. November winds stripped the last leaves from the trees, leaving the forest dark and open beneath the gray sky. Frost appeared across the courtyards each morning, silvering the stones until the rising sun melted it. Enchanted fires burned in the common rooms, and heavier curtains lowered themselves over the windows after sunset.

Daryan’s lessons demanded more attention as the term advanced. Professor Wallaby moved the first-years from wooden cubes to buttons, teaching them to alter shape and material without accidentally changing the thread holding the buttons to their practice cloth. Professor Mercer introduced mixtures that could be ruined by adding an ingredient only a few seconds too early. Professor Vale expected levitated objects to follow controlled paths instead of merely rising from the desk.

In Wandwork, Professor Muldawny created narrow tunnels of suspended light and instructed the students to guide small wooden beads through them without touching the glowing sides. Every contact produced a sharp bell-like sound that announced the mistake to the entire room.

Natalia Banks completed the first path without striking an edge. Her bead moved at a steady pace, never rushing even when the tunnel curved sharply.

Professor Muldawny studied the route before turning to the class. “Why did Miss Banks succeed where several faster attempts failed?”

Natalia lowered her wand. She did not seem pleased by the attention, but neither did she avoid it. “Because reaching the end is only part of the task. If the object cannot travel safely through the space between, the destination does not matter.”

“Correct,” Professor Muldawny said. “Speed impresses people who are not responsible for repairing the damage.”

Geoffrey whispered that the remark was probably intended for him. His bead had already escaped the tunnel twice and rolled beneath another student’s chair.

The protective charms held through every lesson and every night. Daryan experienced a mild headache for the first two days, but it faded before the end of the week. His dreams became ordinary, disconnected things that disappeared within minutes of waking. No whispering waited beneath them. He saw no black mist, heard no slithering, and never again awakened in a corridor.

Professor Woods reduced her examinations to brief weekly checks. She tested his focus, asked whether he had lost time, and confirmed that the blue-white sparks had not returned. When every answer remained reassuring, she stopped looking for Daryan at breakfast and told him to visit the infirmary only if something changed.

Geoffrey took longer to relax. For several nights, Daryan awakened to find him peering through the gap in his bed curtains. Geoffrey always claimed he had been checking the time or looking for Snowbird. Eventually, after Daryan slept peacefully through an entire week, Geoffrey stopped waking whenever the mattress creaked.

Theo no longer counted the beds before going to sleep. Ivan removed the chair he had quietly placed near the dormitory door. Chip returned to sleeping on the bedpost instead of pressing himself against Daryan’s neck throughout the night.

Aryanna answered Daryan’s letter near the middle of November. She accepted his apology and admitted that she understood why he had tried to preserve the happiness at home. She also informed him that protecting her feelings was not one of his responsibilities. Damon added a note at the bottom explaining that Aryanna had debated whether to underline the word immediately once or twice when reminding Daryan how quickly he should report another dream.

She had underlined it three times.

Daryan wrote back that the protective charms were working. This time, he described the examination honestly, including the thread and the wall. He did not soften the facts, although he reminded Aryanna that Eruman, Professor Vale, Professor Sylveran, and Professor Woods were all watching the situation. Writing the truth felt more difficult than reassurance, but it also left him with less to carry alone.

The first snow arrived during lunch in early December.

Students gathered near the Great Hall windows as white flakes swept across the grounds. They softened the battlements, covered the courtyards, and settled over the distant forest until Mount Greylock seemed separated from the rest of the world.

Harper arrived at the mixed-house lunch table with a thick book tucked beneath one arm. She placed it beside her plate before sitting between Parker and Theo. The cover displayed a witch leaning low over a racing broom while a red ball glowed dangerously in front of her.

Geoffrey immediately pulled the book closer. “Quodpot?”

Harper retrieved it before he could open it with food on his hands. “I watched some of the older students practicing yesterday. One of them carried the Quod almost all the way to the pot before it exploded.”

Parker reached for the roasted potatoes. “You say that as though it was impressive.”

“She kept control of her broom after the explosion.”

“Remaining on the broom should be the minimum expectation.”

“Not when something explodes directly in front of you.”

Harper opened the book to a marked chapter. Narrow pieces of parchment protruded from nearly half the pages, and notes filled the margins in her quick handwriting. “The carrier has to reach the scoring pot before the Quod becomes unstable. The other team can block the route, force wider turns, or make the carrier hold it long enough to risk an explosion.”

Theo studied an illustration of a player throwing the glowing ball into a cauldron-shaped goal. “How does anyone know exactly when it will explode?”

“They don’t. Skilled players learn to recognize changes in the heat and color.”

“That seems unnecessarily dangerous,” Parker said.

“That is why it is interesting.”

Daryan noticed Natalia standing at the end of the table with two other Horned Serpent girls. Her attention had settled on Harper’s book. After a brief word to her companions, she moved closer.

“My brother William knows quite a lot about Quodpot,” Natalia said. “I could ask him to give you a few pointers if you’re planning to try out.”

Harper looked up in surprise. “He would help me? I’m a Thunderbird.”

Natalia gave a small shrug. “We’re in different houses, Harper, not different countries. I’ll ask him.”

Harper’s expression brightened. “Thanks. I’d like that.”

“William follows the Fitchburg Finches,” Natalia added. “If he begins explaining their defensive formations, interrupt him before he reaches the championship season from three years ago. He considers it essential background. It is not.”

“Maybe I want the background.”

Natalia regarded the marked pages filling Harper’s book. “In that case, he may finally have met someone willing to listen.”

She returned to her friends, leaving Harper looking pleased by the unexpected offer.

Geoffrey leaned across the table. “Are you really going to try out?”

“First-years aren’t eligible. I’m going to practice until next year.”

“You have never held a Quod.”

“I had never ridden a broom before September.”

Parker looked toward Daryan. “She has decided that surviving one new danger qualifies her to find another.”

“That sounds accurate,” Daryan said.

Harper ignored both of them and opened the book to a section on turning patterns.

Later that week, the group watched a Quodpot practice from a covered terrace above the western field. Snow covered the ground below, but warming charms protected the air around the players. Scarlet boundary lines floated above the pitch, surrounding a series of elevated hoops and large scoring pots.

Harper stood at the railing with her book open, following the movement of each player. A seventh-year Thunderbird carried the Quod beneath one arm while two defenders forced her toward the edge of the field. The ball changed from dull red to brilliant orange.

“It’s becoming unstable,” Theo said.

“We can see that,” Geoffrey replied.

The player twisted her broom into a steep turn and released the Quod toward a teammate. It crossed half the distance before exploding in a flash of red light. The force rocked both brooms and sent sparks falling toward the snow, where they disappeared with sharp hissing sounds.

Geoffrey grinned. “That is brilliant.”

“It exploded,” Parker said.

“That is why it was brilliant.”

Harper barely reacted to their argument. She marked something in the margin of her book while watching the team retrieve a replacement Quod. “She waited too long before passing. The defender knew which direction she wanted to turn.”

A voice behind them said, “Her grip also shifted before she released it.”

William Banks stood near the terrace entrance. He was tall, with the same composed expression as Natalia, though his Horned Serpent robes bore the markings of a seventh-year student. Natalia remained beside him, holding a scarf loosely around her neck.

Harper quickly turned. “You’re William?”

“Natalia tells me you want to learn Quodpot.”

“I do.”

William joined her at the railing. “Then stop watching the Quod. Everyone watches the Quod. Watch the players who do not have it. They decide where the carrier can go.”

Harper looked back toward the field and began tracking the defenders instead of the glowing ball. Natalia settled on the stone bench beside Theo while William pointed out the way two players were closing the open route to the scoring pot.

“He is going to discuss defensive formations,” Natalia said.

“You warned her,” Theo reminded her.

“I did. She chose this.”

Another Quod exploded above the field, filling the terrace with a brief flash of red light. Daryan turned away from the brightness and found Natalia looking at him. The fading glow reflected differently in his blue and green eyes.

“I have always liked your eyes,” she said. “The colors look good together.”

Daryan instinctively lowered his gaze. Harper had said something similar during their first week of lessons, but compliments about his eyes still left him uncertain how to respond. “Thanks.”

Natalia continued watching him with thoughtful interest. “I read something about eyes like yours in an old book of magical folklore. It claimed that witches and wizards born with two different-colored eyes could see into other worlds at will.”

The sounds of the Quodpot practice receded.

Daryan saw the corridor from his memory. Familiar stone flickered into cracked walls streaked with black fluid. Dark mist gathered near the floor while thousands of snakes moved along the outer edges of the passage. More hung from the rafters in twisting clusters, their scales sliding across one another as they watched him approach the cabinet. He remembered how both versions of the corridor had occupied the same space and how the darker one had vanished the moment Professor Sylveran pulled him away.

Coldness spread through Daryan’s chest. The warmth left his face as he looked toward the snowy field without truly seeing it.

Natalia did not notice the change in him. Her attention returned to the players as she adjusted the scarf around her neck. “The book was mostly a collection of old beliefs. It also claimed people with silver eyes could recognize disguised spirits, so I doubt anyone proved it. I still thought it was interesting.”

“Yeah,” Daryan managed. His voice sounded thinner than usual, so he cleared his throat. “Interesting.”

William began explaining how a formation changed when the Quod became unstable. Harper asked question after question, sometimes disagreeing until William showed her the movement on the field. Geoffrey listened whenever an explosion appeared likely, while Parker remained near the rear of the terrace, where the stone roof offered better protection from falling sparks.

Daryan tried to concentrate on the practice, but Natalia’s words remained lodged in his thoughts. He had not entered the darker corridor at will, and his mismatched eyes had never shown him anything unusual before the cabinet began calling. The story was probably nothing more than folklore.

Even so, he could not forget that Professor Vale had described two places occupying the same space.

He said nothing to the others. Geoffrey would insist they tell a professor, Theo would begin searching for the book Natalia had read, and Harper might start asking questions Daryan could not answer. After everything that had already happened, he did not want his friends wondering whether the nightmares had finally convinced him that he could see into other worlds.

He remained beside them and watched the rest of the practice, though the cabinet no longer felt quite as distant as it had before Natalia spoke.

Eruman and Professor Vale continued examining the protective barrier once each week, but the appointments became shorter. Most required no more than a pass of the glass sphere around Daryan’s head and several questions about his sleep. The thread remained too faint to expose reliably.

During one December examination, Vale’s instrument produced a quiet note near Daryan’s right hand before falling silent.

“The attachment has weakened,” she said. “That may indicate increasing distance, a loss of power, or a failure to pass through the protective charms.”

“Can you trace it again?” Daryan asked.

“Not without placing more pressure upon the connection than I consider safe.”

Professor Vale packed the instrument into its padded case and left to teach an afternoon class. Eruman remained behind, reviewing several pages of notes beside the fire.

Daryan sat across from him. “Do you think it comes from the future?”

Eruman rested his quill. “I consider it one possibility among several.”

“Wouldn’t we know if someone used time magic?”

“Not always. A person traveling physically through time creates a different disturbance from an object projecting magic across it. Both are exceptionally difficult, and neither would explain every detail we have observed.”

Daryan studied the notes spread across the desk. Natalia’s voice returned to him with uncomfortable clarity.

People with eyes like yours could see into other worlds at will.

The darker corridor had occupied the same space as Ilvermorny without fully belonging to it. The snakes, the mist, and the black fluid had appeared whenever the familiar castle disappeared. The cabinet had remained unchanged within both versions.

“What are the other possibilities?” Daryan asked.

“A concealed magical space. A damaged transportation spell. A connection to a location that overlaps Ilvermorny without belonging to it,” Eruman explained. “The darker corridor may be somewhere else, somewhen else, or a place that exists only because the cabinet is trying to create a path.”

Somewhere else.

Daryan looked toward the window before Eruman could read anything in his expression. Snow collected along the narrow stone ledge outside, and several owls crossed the gray sky on their way to the tower.

He considered telling his grandfather what Natalia had read. Eruman might recognize the story or know whether differently colored eyes possessed any magical significance. However, speaking the idea aloud would make it sound far more real. Daryan had already dreamed about voices, wandered through the castle in a trance, and claimed to see a corridor filled with snakes that no one else could see. If he now suggested that his eyes allowed him to look into another world, even Eruman might wonder whether the cabinet had damaged his mind.

Daryan kept the thought to himself.

“Can a path exist without a place?” he asked instead.

“Magic frequently begins with an intention before it acquires a form. A door can be created before anyone understands where it opens.”

“That doesn’t sound safe.”

“It generally is not.”

Daryan continued watching the owls until they disappeared around the nearest tower. He had not chosen to see the darker corridor, which meant Natalia’s story did not fit what had happened to him. That should have allowed him to dismiss it.

For some reason, it did not.

“If the cabinet called my name, maybe I’m the only person who can find it,” he said after a moment.

“Perhaps,” Eruman replied. He did not dismiss the idea, which made Daryan listen more closely. “That does not mean you are the only person responsible for understanding it. Your connection may provide information, but no one will deliberately expose you to it until we know how to keep you safe.”

“I’m not planning to look for it.”

“I believe you.”

Eruman reached into one of his desk drawers and removed a small paper packet. He placed it between them. The scent of cinnamon escaped through the folds.

“Professor Mercer brought these back from Hushnote and claimed they were for the faculty,” he explained. “He then left the packet on my desk without taking one.”

Daryan opened it and discovered two cinnamon candies shaped like small cauldrons. “Maybe he doesn’t like cinnamon.”

“He once ate half a jar of it because a student insisted it could not be done.”

“Did he get sick?”

“Terribly.”

Daryan laughed and handed one of the candies to his grandfather. They ate beside the fire while discussing Daryan’s Transfiguration work and the letter Aryanna had sent Eruman about her latest charms. The cabinet remained present in the notes on the desk, but it did not consume the entire visit.

Three days before the final week of lessons, Theo found the book they had been missing.

The six friends occupied their usual library table near the transportation section. Daryan and Geoffrey were searching an index of enchanted passageways, while Ivan compared two editions of a book on architectural expansion. Harper read a Quodpot chapter between searches, and Parker worked through a registry of furniture confiscated by MACUSA.

Theo had disappeared into the upper shelves nearly twenty minutes earlier. When he returned, dust covered one shoulder of his robes, and he carried a large green volume with both hands.

“I found a reference to connected cabinets,” he said. Excitement pulled his words together more quickly than usual. “It was catalogued under transportation artifacts instead of enchanted furniture.”

He lowered the book onto the table. Its cover was faded, its corners were worn smooth, and the title had nearly disappeared from the cracked leather.

Connected Objects and the Spaces Between.

The librarian approached before anyone could open it. She examined the title, checked Professor Vale’s authorization, and unlocked the small brass clasp holding the pages shut.

“This volume contains historical descriptions, not instructions,” she told them. “You may read the marked chapters here. Handle the pages from their edges, and do not flatten the binding.”

Theo waited until she moved away before turning to the section listed in the index. The parchment had become brittle with age, and the ink varied from dark black to faded brown.

“Most of this is about pairs of objects,” he explained as he read. “Mirrors, trunks, doors, and cabinets can be enchanted to share an interior path.”

“Share it how?” Geoffrey asked.

Theo traced a line beneath the paragraph without touching the words. “A person can enter one object and emerge from the other. The distance between them does not matter once the connection is established.”

“Like a Portkey?” Harper asked.

“Not exactly. A Portkey carries someone from one location to another. These objects create a passage. The traveler moves through the connection itself.”

Ivan leaned closer. “A doorway with both ends stored inside separate objects.”

Theo nodded. “The book calls them passage cabinets.”

Daryan remembered the two men at the Hushnote café. He heard the cautious voices again, stripped of the music and conversation surrounding them.

Was the cabinet delivered?

It is in place.

He drew the book closer. “If someone placed one passage cabinet inside Ilvermorny, the other could be anywhere.”

“Then whatever is using it wouldn’t need to enter through the forest or the school gates,” Geoffrey said.

Parker turned several pages carefully. “What happens if one cabinet is damaged?”

Theo found a subsection titled Failures of Sympathetic Passage. The illustrations showed two cabinets connected by a braided line of ink. In the next image, one cabinet had cracked, causing the line to separate into thin strands.

“The passage becomes unstable,” Theo read. “Sometimes it only opens in one direction. Sometimes objects remain trapped between the cabinets. There are accounts of travelers entering one side and never reaching the other.”

Harper closed her Quodpot book and gave the discovery her full attention. “Could a damaged cabinet connect to the wrong place?”

Theo read farther. “Yes. If one destination is destroyed or magically inaccessible, the surviving cabinet may attempt to form another path. Most failed connections collapse, but strong enchantments can attach themselves to an unintended location.”

“Or a person,” Daryan said.

Everyone looked toward him.

He placed his right hand on the table. No thread appeared around his wrist, but he could remember the pale light circling his fingers. “The cabinet’s connection is attached to me. What if the other cabinet can’t reach the place it was supposed to open, so it is using my mind instead?”

“You never touched it,” Geoffrey said. Concern had replaced the excitement in his voice. “You hadn’t even seen it when the dreams started.”

“He heard people discussing it,” Harper said. “That might not be enough to create a magical connection.”

Ivan looked at the illustration of the broken passage. “Daryan did not need to see the cabinet if the cabinet detected him.”

The idea settled heavily across the table. Daryan remembered the sensation of something watching from beyond the open doors in his first dream. It had known his name before he found the corridor. Perhaps hearing the men in Hushnote had not drawn his attention toward the cabinet. Perhaps it had allowed the cabinet to notice him.

Theo continued reading until he reached the end of the chapter. The printed text offered no explanation for a passage attaching itself to a living mind, but Parker noticed a narrow line of faded blue ink beneath the final paragraph.

“There’s something written in the margin.”

Theo angled the book toward the nearest lamp. The handwriting was cramped and uneven, as though the unknown reader had added the note in haste.

“When the path between two doors is broken,” Theo read slowly, “the passage may seek a living mind to complete it.”

No one spoke for several seconds.

Geoffrey looked from the note to Daryan. “That sounds exactly like the thread.”

“It sounds like a theory someone wrote in an old book,” Theo cautioned, though his eyes remained fixed on the sentence. “We don’t know who wrote it or whether they were right.”

Ivan checked the pages before and after it. “There is no name, date, or second note.”

“Could the librarian identify the handwriting?” Parker asked.

“Maybe,” Harper said. “The Headmaster might recognize the book.”

Daryan copied the sentence, title, and page number onto a fresh piece of parchment. Then he carried the volume to the librarian’s desk and explained that they needed to show it to Eruman.

She examined the note herself before consulting the authorization card. After a moment, she entered the title into her ledger and placed a protective band around the book’s cover.

“You may take it directly to the Headmaster’s office after dinner,” she said. “It is to remain closed while being carried, and it must be returned to me tomorrow morning.”

“We’ll be careful,” Daryan promised.

“I expect you to be more careful than that. This book has survived longer than several countries.”

Daryan accepted the protected volume with both hands. It was heavier than it looked, and the old leather felt warm beneath the librarian’s charm.

The supper bell began ringing in the corridor outside. Theo packed his notebook, Harper tucked the Quodpot guide beneath her arm, and Geoffrey returned the remaining volumes to the collection cart. They left the library together, talking quietly about which parts of the passage Eruman and Professor Vale would need to examine first.

Daryan carried the book against his chest as they joined the students heading toward the Great Hall. For the moment, there was nothing more they could safely do. They would eat dinner, bring the discovery to his grandfather, and allow the adults to decide what came next.

 

 

Chapter 15

Home for Christmas

The Horned Serpent dormitory was busy before sunrise. Curtains stood open around every bed, traveling bags covered the floor, and clothing had been spread across nearly every available surface while students attempted to decide what they needed for the holiday. Daryan’s large school trunk remained closed at the foot of his bed because his robes, cauldron, potion supplies, and most of his books would stay at Ilvermorny until January.

He packed a smaller bag with winter clothing, his holiday assignments, the books required to complete them, and the gifts he had already collected for his family. The familiar possessions surrounding him made leaving feel strange. During the summer, Daryan had imagined Ilvermorny as an impossible place that existed somewhere beyond his ordinary life. Now his books rested beside his bed, his Horned Serpent robes hung inside the wardrobe, and four months of memories filled the room.

Geoffrey sat upon his bed examining the incorrect potion recipes Professor Mercer had assigned them to repair. He held the parchment at arm’s length as though distance might make the assignment more reasonable.

“If Professor Mercer already knows what is wrong with these recipes, it seems inefficient to make us discover the mistakes again.”

“The assignment is supposed to prove that we can recognize dangerous errors,” Theo explained while checking his list for the third time.

Ivan secured an Astronomy chart inside his traveling case. “That ability is especially important for anyone whose potion has screamed.”

“It screamed once,” Geoffrey protested. “After that, it only smoked.”

“That does not improve the story,” Daryan told him as he fastened the straps around his bag.

Chip pressed his little gray face between the bars of his travel cage and released an unhappy trill. Snowbird occupied the larger cage beside Geoffrey’s bed and watched the commotion with perfect dignity, although his narrowed eyes made it clear that he disapproved of being confined as much as Chip did.

“You can come out when we reach Nashville,” Daryan promised.

Chip turned away and presented him with the back of his head.

Ivan studied the owl’s posture. “Forgiveness may require several pellets.”

“Three at least,” Geoffrey added. “Possibly four if the Portkey is unpleasant.”

“The Portkey is always unpleasant,” Daryan said.

Theo sat upon the edge of his bed and reviewed the list of assignments. “We have two chapters for Magical History, the Transfiguration essay, the Potions corrections, the Charms practice record, the Wandwork exercises, and the report for Magical Creatures.”

Geoffrey looked toward him. “You remembered all of that without checking?”

“I checked before breakfast yesterday.”

“You concern me sometimes.”

A bell sounded throughout the castle, warning students that breakfast would begin in fifteen minutes. Daryan took one final look around the dormitory before lifting his bag. Their beds would remain ready, their trunks would remain at the footboards, and most of their belongings would be exactly where they had left them. They were not leaving Ilvermorny behind. They were only returning home for a few weeks.

The boys carried their luggage and owl cages into the Horned Serpent common room. Sabine Holloway waited beside the exit with a departure list floating near her shoulder. She checked each student’s name, confirmed the destination of every Portkey group, and reminded several younger students that school trunks were not permitted to travel home without special authorization.

Breakfast was louder than usual. Students called across their house tables, exchanged last-minute presents, and arranged plans for letters during the break. Owls shifted inside cages near the walls, while several cats prowled beneath the benches until prefects retrieved them.

Daryan sat with Geoffrey, Theo, and Ivan at the Horned Serpent table. Harper waved from among the Thunderbirds, and Parker lifted a hand from the Pukwudgie table. Natalia sat farther along the Horned Serpent bench with three girls she usually spent time with. She noticed Daryan watching and offered him a small smile before returning to their conversation.

After the dishes disappeared, Eruman rose and reviewed the holiday wand restrictions. Each student received a parchment listing the spells permitted for homework, while duplicate copies had already been delivered to their families. First-years were authorized to practice Lumos, Nox, controlled levitation, and the movements assigned by Professor Muldawny. Any magic beyond the approved list would be recorded as unauthorized.

Geoffrey leaned closer while Sabine distributed their copies. “Your mother is going to memorize every word of this.”

“She probably memorized her copy before breakfast.”

Professor Vale reminded the students that careful practice mattered more than repeated casting. Once Eruman finished explaining the Portkey schedule, the prefects began calling departure groups according to their activation times.

Daryan, Geoffrey, Theo, Ivan, Harper, and Parker gathered near the Gordian Knot in the entrance hall while they waited. Theo’s Portkey would take him directly to his family home, while Ivan’s group would travel through a Canadian exchange terminal before continuing north. Harper and Parker had separate family Portkeys despite leaving only minutes apart.

Natalia approached with William beside her. Her brother carried a dark traveling case over one shoulder, while Natalia held a round wicker carrier containing her small black cat.

“I suppose this is when everyone begins claiming they will complete their assignments before New Year’s,” Natalia said.

“I intend to finish mine before Christmas,” Theo replied.

Natalia considered him carefully. “That is somehow even less believable.”

Theo opened his mouth to defend himself, but William noticed the Quodpot book protruding from Harper’s traveling bag. “Don’t forget to remind me to send you the information I mentioned. I have a few formation diagrams that should make some of those plays easier to understand.”

“I won’t forget,” Harper assured him.

“She has marked half the pages in that book,” Natalia said. “Forgetting seems unlikely.”

William laughed. “Then I expect to receive an owl before I finish unpacking.”

Harper adjusted the strap of her bag with a pleased smile. “Probably.”

William wished the entire group a merry Christmas before following the older students toward his departure area. Natalia remained long enough to tell the others to enjoy their holiday and avoid anything requiring a visit from Professor Woods. When her group was called, she collected her cat’s carrier and joined her brother.

Theo’s name followed shortly afterward. He hugged Daryan, Geoffrey, and Ivan before promising to write as soon as he reached home. Ivan offered quieter goodbyes, although he surprised Geoffrey by pulling him into a brief embrace before joining his Portkey group.

Harper left next. Before going, she reminded Daryan and Geoffrey that Chip and Snowbird already knew the route to her home. Parker promised to answer every letter unless the young Kneazle belonging to his cousin destroyed the parchment first.

Daryan still had time before the Nashville Portkey activated, so he asked Sabine for permission to visit the gallery. Geoffrey agreed to watch their luggage while Daryan hurried through the familiar corridor.

He found Isolt Sayre and James Steward inside the large portrait they shared. Isolt arranged winter flowers in a blue vase beside a painted window, while James sat near the fireplace with a book across his knees. Their cottage had been decorated for Christmas, with garlands around the hearth and several stockings hanging from the wooden mantel.

“I’m leaving for Nashville,” Daryan told them. “I wanted to wish both of you a happy Christmas.”

“Thank you, Daryan,” Isolt answered.

Daryan stared at her. He had seen the painted founder smile, wave, and whisper to James, but she had never spoken directly to him before.

Isolt appeared amused by his surprise. “I hope you have a joyful holiday with your family. Time spent apart often teaches us how precious returning can be.”

James closed his book and leaned forward. “Please give Aryanna and Damon our regards.”

“You remember them?”

“We remember more than most students realize,” James answered.

Daryan promised to deliver their message before wishing them both a merry Christmas. He returned to the entrance hall with their voices lingering in his thoughts and found Geoffrey waiting beside the luggage.

“Something happened,” Geoffrey said after studying his face.

“Isolt and James spoke to me. They asked me to give Mom and Dad their regards.”

“The portrait spoke directly to you?”

“For the first time.”

Geoffrey glanced toward the gallery entrance as though he wanted to see for himself, but Sabine called the Nashville departure group before he could suggest it. The boys collected their bags and cages and followed the other travelers into a circular departure area set into one side of the hall.

Eruman waited beside their bronze Portkey medallion. He checked their names against the departure list and inspected the luggage tags before allowing them into the circle.

“I intend to visit during the holiday,” he told Daryan quietly. “I will send word before I arrive.”

“Geoffrey will probably be with us.”

“I had already assumed as much.” Eruman smiled before turning his attention to both boys. “Enjoy your Christmas. Ilvermorny will still be here when you return.”

Daryan and Geoffrey arranged their bags and cages between them. Each placed a hand upon the medallion as the final seconds appeared in glowing numbers around its edge.

The Portkey seized Daryan with the familiar wrenching sensation. He kept his eyes closed through the rush of color and pressure until his shoes struck the carpet inside the Marsdales’ living room. Geoffrey landed beside him with one knee bent, while their bags and cages appeared in a loose circle around their feet.

Aryanna reached Daryan before he fully regained his balance. She pulled him into her arms and held him tightly, one hand resting against the back of his head. Damon joined them a moment later and wrapped an arm around both of them.

Daryan closed his eyes against his mother’s shoulder. He had missed the warmth of the apartment, the familiar scent of Damon’s cooking, and the sounds of Nashville moving beyond the windows. He had known that he wanted to come home, but the force of that longing had not become clear until both of his parents were holding him.

“You’ve grown,” Damon said once they released him.

“I’ve been gone less than four months.”

“That is plenty of time. I’ll measure you after lunch.”

Aryanna kept both hands upon Daryan’s shoulders as she studied him. Happiness remained clear in her expression, but quiet concern entered her eyes.

“Have you been sleeping?”

“Yes.”

“No voices?”

“Not since Grandfather and Professor Vale placed the protective charms.”

Aryanna searched his face for another moment before accepting the answer. “Good. Then you can tell us about everything else after you unpack.”

Chip chirped from inside his cage until Daryan released him. The tiny owl shot into the living room, circled Aryanna’s head, and landed upon her shoulder. He pressed his face into her hair before turning toward Damon and bowing several times.

“Apparently, he missed you more than he missed me,” Daryan said.

“I provided him with turkey during Family Day,” Aryanna replied. “Affection can be purchased if you understand the proper currency.”

Emily embraced Geoffrey nearby before carrying his bag into the neighboring apartment. Snowbird’s cage remained in Geoffrey’s hands, but the large white owl watched Chip’s enthusiastic reunion with an expression suggesting that he found the display embarrassing.

Before Emily and Geoffrey went next door, Daryan delivered the message from Isolt and James. Aryanna’s eyes brightened when she learned the founders had remembered them, while Damon asked Daryan to return their greetings when he saw the portrait again.

Daryan unpacked in his bedroom with Aryanna seated nearby. She did not question him further about the sleepwalking or the hidden corridor. Instead, she examined the comments his professors had written upon his assignments, listened as he described his improving Transfiguration work, and made him demonstrate the wand movements Professor Muldawny had approved for holiday practice.

The room felt smaller than he remembered. His old books still occupied the shelf beside the dresser, photographs of his family covered part of the wall, and the artificial plant Aryanna had polished before Eruman’s first visit remained beside the window. Nothing had changed, yet Daryan felt different standing within it. The boy who had left Nashville in September had never attended a Charms lesson, ridden a broom, brewed a potion, or watched every Ilvermorny house offer him a place.

“I’ve learned more too,” Aryanna said once Daryan finished showing her his assignments.

She retrieved her wand from the narrow case attached to her belt. Daryan had seen it during Family Day, but she held it more comfortably now. The hesitation that once accompanied every movement had almost disappeared.

Damon brought one of his work aprons into the bedroom. A long tear separated part of the front pocket from the fabric. Aryanna raised her wand and repaired it with a clear incantation. The torn edges pulled together, and the stitches returned one after another until the pocket had been restored.

Daryan examined the apron. “That was brilliant.”

“I’ve had good teachers,” Aryanna said.

“Two teachers,” Dalon called from the living room.

“Emily taught me that charm.”

Dalon appeared in the doorway. “I taught you how to hold the wand.”

“You corrected my grip after Emily had already taught me.”

“It was still valuable instruction.”

Aryanna smiled and pointed her wand toward the books upon Daryan’s bed. With a controlled movement, she levitated them across the room and placed them neatly upon his desk.

Pride warmed Daryan as he watched. The previous Christmas, Aryanna had believed that magic had passed over her completely. Now a wand rested against her palm, and ordinary objects responded to her intentions. The discovery had not erased the years she lost, but it had returned something she never expected to possess.

Aryanna put away her wand and picked up the holiday authorization parchment. She read every line before looking at Daryan.

“You will follow this exactly.”

“I know.”

“No experiments.”

“I know.”

“No spells Geoffrey claims are probably safe.”

Geoffrey appeared in the doorway carrying a pillow and folded blanket beneath one arm. “Why am I part of the warning?”

“Experience,” Emily answered from the hallway.

Damon glanced at the bedding. “You appear to have prepared for the possibility that we might say yes.”

“I thought preparation demonstrated responsibility.”

“It demonstrates confidence,” Damon answered, but he moved the coffee table aside so the boys could spread their blankets near the sofa.

The following night, Daryan stayed at Geoffrey’s apartment. After that, neither family pretended the arrangements required formal planning. The boys moved between the two homes with their blankets, books, and owls, sometimes deciding where they would sleep only after one of them became too comfortable to leave.

Their friends remained part of nearly every day. Daryan and Geoffrey wrote to Theo, Ivan, Harper, and Parker so often that Chip and Snowbird began recognizing the letter bundles before the boys called them. They alternated the longer routes so neither owl became exhausted.

Chip usually returned with his feathers disturbed and an excited account of the journey that only Snowbird appeared to understand. Snowbird arrived with every letter perfectly secured and the solemn bearing of an official messenger.

Theo wrote about his family’s magical holiday traditions and complained that Marisol kept removing books from his hands during meals. Ivan described the frozen pond near his home and the enchanted lights his parents had hung among the trees. Parker sent increasingly dramatic reports about the young Kneazle belonging to his cousin, while Harper filled several pages with Quodpot notes.

One of Harper’s letters mentioned that she had continued writing to William. He had already sent her two formation diagrams and corrected several assumptions she made about passing the Quod. Her irritation came through clearly when she admitted that every correction had been right.

A smaller note arrived with William’s third bundle. Natalia explained that her brother had covered half their dining table with Quodpot diagrams and accused Harper of creating more work for him than any holiday assignment. She added that William appeared to enjoy himself too much to complain sincerely.

Daryan read the note twice before passing it to Geoffrey. Natalia had not written to the entire group before, but her message did not feel like an attempt to force herself into their friendship. It was simply another connection stretching beyond Ilvermorny.

Several days into the holiday, Dalon and Emily took the boys to the Hushnote Quarter for Christmas shopping. The bricks of the Printer’s Alley entrance folded away after Dalon traced the concealed notes with his wand, and warm blue-and-gold light spilled into the narrow passage.

Daryan heard Hushnote’s Christmas music before he saw the district. Sleigh bells moved beneath the quicker rhythm of a fiddle, followed by the bright flourish of a trumpet and a chorus humming from somewhere beyond the passage. The different melodies passed around one another without colliding, each becoming clearer as Daryan entered the area where it belonged.

Christmas had transformed the Quarter without concealing its usual color. Garlands woven from holly, silver pine, and cranberry-colored ribbon stretched between the leaning buildings. Tiny lights moved through the branches like glowing insects, gathering into musical notes before scattering again. Enchanted snow drifted from the rooftops, but the flakes dissolved into brief sparks whenever they touched the street or landed upon someone’s clothing.

Some flakes did not fall at all. They floated at eye level and vibrated like tuning forks, producing a clear note when someone touched them. A child ahead of Daryan moved through a cluster with both hands raised, creating a clumsy but recognizable version of a Christmas song. His mother attempted to hurry him along while several nearby snowflakes began correcting the melody.

Daryan stopped just beyond the entrance and stared. He had visited Hushnote before, but the holiday decorations altered every familiar street. A sleigh drawn by miniature silver reindeer flew above one intersection, banking between chimneys before circling a clock tower wrapped in blue ribbon. Each time the clock struck the quarter hour, the reindeer landed upon its ledge and drank from thimble-sized buckets carried out by mechanical elves.

The shops had decorated according to their specialties. A robe shop displayed a winter cloak that continually changed its embroidery from pine trees to stars, snowflakes, and flying owls. The apothecary had arranged colored potion bottles into the shape of a Christmas tree. The liquid inside them bubbled in rhythm with a slow brass melody, while a silver star suspended above the highest bottle released harmless steam.

A bookshop window contained a miniature library preparing itself for Christmas. Tiny volumes carried garlands between the shelves, argued over the placement of candles, and chased a dictionary that had wrapped itself in gold paper to avoid being read. Beside it, a shop selling enchanted clocks displayed twelve cuckoo doors arranged like an Advent calendar. A different magical creature emerged from each one as the minute changed.

The familiar Hushnote scents had changed with the season too. Cinnamon, chocolate, roasted nuts, evergreen, warm bread, and woodsmoke moved through the cold air. A vendor near the entrance stirred cider inside a copper cauldron. Every time the ladle completed a circle, steam formed the shape of a galloping reindeer before disappearing over the customers.

Near the center of the first street, several musicians performed upon a circular platform made from clear ice. The violinist and banjo player wore charmed gloves that allowed their fingers to move despite the cold, while a woman playing a golden saxophone stood inside a gentle shower of snow that never touched the others. Their platform rotated slowly, allowing shoppers on every side to watch.

A line of toy soldiers marched between the crowd carrying brass instruments no larger than Daryan’s fingers. They played with surprising force until their conductor became distracted by a gingerbread stand. The entire formation followed him toward it without missing a note.

Geoffrey turned slowly beside Daryan. “Why doesn’t Ilvermorny decorate like this?”

“Because the professors expect students to concentrate,” Emily said.

“No one could concentrate here,” Daryan agreed.

Dalon smiled. “That is part of Hushnote’s business strategy.”

Emily stopped the boys before they reached the first line of shops. “You each have a spending limit. Choose gifts because they suit the person receiving them. A larger price does not make a better present.”

Dalon nodded toward the busy street. “Remain where one of us can see you, and tell us before entering another shop. Christmas crowds make it easier to lose sight of someone.”

Daryan and Geoffrey agreed before beginning inside a jewelry store decorated with floating silver chains. The strands drifted overhead like narrow ribbons of moonlight, each carrying rings, charms, or small polished stones. Whenever a customer selected one, the remaining chains rearranged themselves to fill the space.

A seasonal display near the front contained jewelry meant to represent families, friendships, and homes. Several necklaces produced warmth when their matching pieces were nearby. A set of bracelets changed color according to the distance between their owners, while a pair of silver rings projected tiny lights representing shared memories.

Daryan found a necklace bearing a small Gordian Knot. The charm appeared ordinary until he touched it. Pale blue light moved through the interwoven lines, growing brighter when Emily placed her hand near his.

“This one recognizes family connections,” the shopkeeper explained. She was an elderly witch wearing spectacles connected by a chain of tiny emeralds. “It responds to the people its owner accepts as family. Blood has very little to do with the enchantment.”

Daryan imagined Aryanna wearing it and immediately knew he had found her gift. The necklace represented Eruman’s return, Damon’s place within their expanding magical family, and every connection Aryanna had begun rebuilding.

Geoffrey chose a silver owl brooch for Emily. The tiny owl blinked, stretched its wings, and settled again whenever Geoffrey spoke to it. A concealment charm caused the bird to become ordinary metal whenever a No-Maj watched it.

The shopkeeper wrapped both purchases in paper that folded itself into neat blue boxes. Silver ribbon crawled around each package before tying itself into a bow.

Outside, several temporary market stalls occupied a narrow street that had not contained them during Daryan’s previous visits. One sold blown-glass ornaments containing miniature weather systems. Snowstorms moved through some, while others held summer rain, distant lightning, or tiny northern lights. Another displayed wooden animals that awakened after sunset and wandered around the lower branches of a Christmas tree.

A witch selling enchanted candles had arranged hundreds of them beneath a striped canopy. Some released the scent of pine forests or warm kitchens. Others projected moving shadows of reindeer, snowmen, or winged horses across the nearest wall. One candle produced the silhouette of a dragon curled peacefully around a chimney, but Emily moved Geoffrey away before he could argue that it would improve their apartment.

They passed a gift-wrapping booth operated by three Pukwudgies wearing green aprons and expressions of profound irritation. Packages flew through the air around them, covering themselves with paper, ribbons, bows, and labels. One box resisted being wrapped until a Pukwudgie threatened it with a hammer.

“What is inside that one?” Daryan asked.

“Something uncooperative,” Dalon answered.

Emily led Daryan into a store selling enchanted household equipment while Dalon took Geoffrey across the street. Copper utensils stirred mixtures inside display bowls, measuring cups announced exact quantities, and a row of brooms argued over which one could clean a floor most efficiently.

A holiday display contained self-warming serving trays, pitchers that refilled themselves with a chosen drink, and silver bells capable of summoning dishes from another room. Daryan avoided anything likely to reveal magic inside the deli and found a finely made sandwich knife with a polished wooden handle.

The blade remained sharp through years of use, while a safety charm prevented it from cutting the person holding it. The magic was subtle enough to remain unnoticed by Damon’s customers.

“It’s something he’ll actually use,” Daryan said.

Emily smiled. “That will matter more to him than any decoration.”

The shop wrapped the knife inside a narrow wooden box. When Daryan closed the lid, Damon’s initials appeared across its surface in dark lettering.

They found Geoffrey and Dalon near a seasonal game stall where enchanted snowballs hurled themselves toward moving targets. Geoffrey had won a small packet of peppermint stars and appeared determined to conceal how many attempts the prize had required.

Dalon took the boys into a stationery shop while Emily examined winter cloaks across the street. Shelves contained self-rolling parchment, wax seals that announced the arrival of a letter, and bottles of ink designed to glow beneath moonlight. A flock of paper birds nested among the rafters, occasionally swooping down to deliver advertisements into customers’ hands.

Daryan and Geoffrey waited until Dalon became occupied with a display of field notebooks before slipping toward a case of office decorations. They found a brass Wampus paperweight mounted upon a dark wooden base. The miniature creature prowled in a circle whenever touched and released a quiet growl at unfamiliar fingers.

“He’s going to know we bought it while he was with us,” Daryan whispered.

“He won’t know what it is until Christmas,” Geoffrey replied. “That is enough.”

The shopkeeper wrapped the Wampus without allowing it to bite through the paper. Daryan hid the package inside Emily’s larger shopping bag once she rejoined them.

They continued into a narrow passage decorated with strings of paper lanterns shaped like wrapped presents. Each lantern whispered gift suggestions to anyone who passed beneath it.

“Your uncle needs new socks,” one told Daryan.

“He does not,” Dalon replied.

“A practical belt would improve his appearance.”

Dalon looked up at the lantern. “No one asked you.”

The lantern changed color and suggested a hairbrush.

Geoffrey laughed until another lantern informed him that his mother would appreciate a week without mysterious feathers in the kitchen.

The boys selected gifts for their school friends at several small shops along the passage. Theo received an enchanted bookmark that remembered every book in which it had been placed. Ivan’s card projected a moving map of the night sky, Harper’s tin of broom polish adjusted itself for different woods, and Parker received a guide to the care and training of young Kneazles.

Daryan found Natalia’s gift at a stall selling charmed writing supplies. It was a narrow silver page marker shaped like a serpent. When placed inside a book, it moved to the exact line where the reader had stopped.

“She wrote to us,” Daryan explained when Geoffrey asked whether Natalia had joined their gift list.

“She sent one note.”

“That still counts.”

Geoffrey considered the page marker. “She’ll probably say it encourages people to stop losing their place through carelessness.”

“Then it suits her.”

They separated long enough to choose presents for each other. Emily accompanied Geoffrey while Dalon remained with Daryan. Daryan selected an enchanted deck capable of playing several magical card games. The cards explained unfamiliar rules, kept score, and refused to permit cheating unless every player agreed beforehand that cheating was part of the game.

“You know he’ll try to convince the deck that cheating is allowed,” Dalon said.

“That’s why I’m reading the instructions first.”

Dalon nodded approvingly. “An excellent defensive strategy.”

They reunited near an open plaza where a fountain had been temporarily transformed into a towering sculpture of enchanted ice. Musical notes moved through its frozen surface like fish beneath clear water. Every few minutes, the sculpture changed shape, becoming a tree, a castle, a sleigh, and finally a dragon whose wings extended over most of the plaza. The dragon released a cloud of cold mist before melting back into the fountain.

Children skated along a ribbon of ice floating several feet above the cobblestones. The narrow path looped around the plaza, passed through the open center of the ice sculpture, and returned to the starting platform. Protective charms caught anyone who slipped before placing them safely upon the ice again.

Geoffrey watched two children race around a turn. “Can we try it?”

“We still have several shops,” Emily reminded him.

“Afterward?”

Dalon checked the time. “If your gifts are purchased and no one becomes lost, we can make room for one circuit.”

That promise encouraged the boys to continue. They visited a creature-supply stall to purchase treats for Chip and Snowbird. Daryan chose compressed pellets containing winter berries and grain, while Geoffrey found a brush charmed to remove loose feathers without pulling.

Nearby, a temporary owl-post station had been constructed from several connected wooden towers. Owls arrived through openings decorated with golden stars, delivering packages from across the country. A large sign warned customers not to attach singing parcels unless they had paid the additional noise fee.

Chip would have loved the station, although Daryan suspected he would have abandoned every delivery to investigate the wrapping paper.

The entrance to Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes had been decorated with a mechanical Father Christmas who climbed from the chimney above the door, discovered his beard had become bright purple, and chased a laughing snowman across the roof. Each pursuit ended when both figures fell into an enormous stocking and the display reset itself.

Emily refused to let the boys enter until every other purchase had been completed. Inside, they found crackers that released miniature blizzards, ornaments that shouted complaints whenever hung incorrectly, and enchanted mistletoe that pursued anyone attempting to avoid it. Dalon removed the mistletoe from Geoffrey’s hands before he could place it inside Emily’s bag.

They were allowed to purchase a small box of harmless products. Daryan chose several paper snowballs that burst into colored confetti, while Geoffrey selected a packet of gingerbread figures that fought over which one would be eaten first.

Their final shop was Cadence & Keys. The holiday concert in its front window had drawn a crowd large enough to fill half the pavement. Every instrument wore a tiny ribbon in Ilvermorny colors. A silver trumpet floated near the ceiling, a violin and banjo played from raised stands, and an upright piano had wrapped its legs in striped stockings.

The instruments finished a lively Christmas tune together. Instead of bowing, they released a shower of glowing notes over the audience. The notes drifted downward and dissolved into music when touched.

Inside, the store had changed its displays for the season. Music boxes played different melodies according to the memories of the person opening them. A row of handbells rearranged itself into new harmonies whenever a customer removed one, while several guitars performed beneath floating candles that brightened and dimmed with the rhythm.

Daryan approached the blue guitar he remembered from his previous visit. It recognized him before he touched the display. Its strings played a warm sequence of notes, then shifted into a Christmas melody accompanied by silver flutes from the next aisle.

“It remembers you,” Geoffrey said.

“Or it remembers that I stood here for fifteen minutes.”

“Both can be true.”

Daryan placed one hand near the glass without touching it. The guitar softened its music, allowing the flutes to carry the melody. He could imagine learning to play something enchanted one day, although his schoolwork already occupied more hours than he wanted to count.

When the shopping was complete, Dalon kept his promise about the floating ice path. Daryan and Geoffrey stepped onto the starting platform and received skates that adjusted themselves around their shoes.

Daryan nearly fell during his first movement. A blue cushion of light appeared beneath him, pushed him upright, and disappeared before Geoffrey could laugh properly. Geoffrey lost his balance at the first turn and spun backward through part of the ice dragon, which caused the sculpture to sneeze cold mist over both of them.

By the time they completed the circuit, Daryan’s cheeks ached from the wind and laughter. Dalon claimed their performance had been more dangerous than several Auror missions, while Emily insisted that neither boy would be permitted to complain about being tired.

They ended the afternoon inside a café overlooking one of the music-filled streets. Warm golden light filled the windows, and each table contained a tiny enchanted fireplace beneath a glass cover. The flames produced heat without smoke and changed color according to the music outside.

Daryan drank spiced cider while Emily organized the packages beneath the table. Geoffrey divided a pastry filled with cinnamon cream, although he gave Daryan the smaller half and denied doing so deliberately.

Beyond the window, the ice dragon changed into an enormous owl. Shoppers moved between the decorated stalls while enchanted snow vanished against their shoulders. The toy soldiers marched past again, this time carrying small bags of gingerbread without any apparent concern for military discipline.

Daryan remembered entering Hushnote with Eruman for the first time. Every building had seemed impossible, and every stranger had known more about his new world than he did. Now he recognized streets, remembered shopkeepers, and knew which passages connected the different musical sections.

The wonder had not disappeared. It had become mixed with familiarity, making Hushnote feel like a place he could belong instead of somewhere he had only been permitted to visit.

The Kiljoy family arrived in Nashville two days later, accepting plans the adults had begun discussing during Family Day. Ivan’s parents spent the afternoon exploring the city with Damon, Aryanna, and Emily before everyone gathered at the Marsdale apartment for dinner.

Ivan entered Daryan’s bedroom carrying a travel bag and a stack of completed assignments. Geoffrey stared at the parchment as though it represented a personal betrayal.

“You finished all of them?”

“Most of them,” Ivan corrected. “I still need to revise my Transfiguration essay.”

“We have been away from school for less than a week.”

“My parents believe completing work early allows the rest of the holiday to be enjoyed properly.”

“Theo has corrupted you from a distance,” Geoffrey said.

Ivan placed the assignments upon Daryan’s desk before opening the gift Daryan and Geoffrey had purchased for him. The enchanted card projected a miniature night sky across the ceiling, with constellations moving into their proper seasonal positions.

“This is excellent,” Ivan said. His usual restraint gave way to a broad smile as he adjusted the month and watched the stars rearrange themselves. “My father will want one.”

The visit allowed the three boys to share something beyond Ilvermorny for the first time. They showed Ivan the neighboring apartments, took him to Damon’s deli after the lunch crowd had disappeared, and spent the evening comparing letters from Theo, Harper, and Parker.

Ivan stayed overnight with Daryan and Geoffrey. All three continued talking until Aryanna reminded them twice that whispering did not make them inaudible. When Daryan finally fell asleep, his friends occupied the room around him and Chip rested upon the bedpost. No whispering voices disturbed the night.

Christmas Eve arrived with cold rain tapping steadily against the apartment windows. Aryanna and Emily had decorated both homes, but everyone gathered inside the Marsdale apartment for dinner. Paper snowflakes drifted beneath the ceiling, and the lights upon the Christmas tree shifted gradually between blue, silver, red, and gold.

Dalon arrived carrying several boxes of magical sweets from Hushnote. Some whistled short Christmas melodies when unwrapped, while others caused the person eating them to glow in unexpected colors. Daryan turned bright green after trying a cranberry sweet. Geoffrey became blue and decided the effect suited him much better.

The colors faded before dinner, but Chip continued following Daryan as though another sweet might reproduce the transformation. Snowbird watched from the top of the bookcase, refusing to display the same lack of dignity.

Later that evening, Daryan and Geoffrey sat beside the Christmas tree while the adults talked in the kitchen. Chip rested on the sofa behind them, and Snowbird occupied the highest part of Emily’s chair.

“Last Christmas, I didn’t know any of this existed,” Daryan said as enchanted light moved through the branches.

“I knew magic existed, but I didn’t know you would be part of it.” Geoffrey picked at a loose thread on the cuff of his sleeve. “I thought I would have to go to Ilvermorny without you.”

“You never told me you were worried.”

“I wasn’t allowed to tell you about the school, and I didn’t want to think about leaving.” Geoffrey looked toward him. “Writing letters would not have been the same.”

Daryan leaned his shoulder against Geoffrey’s. “I don’t think I could have boarded the zeppelin without you.”

“You would have managed.”

“Probably, but I wouldn’t have wanted to.”

Daryan looked around the living room. Aryanna’s wand case rested upon a shelf near the kitchen, Chip slept behind him, and magical snowflakes drifted lazily beneath the ceiling. None of those things had been part of his life the previous Christmas. Eruman had still been a stranger his mother refused to discuss, Dalon’s work had been explained only in vague terms, and Geoffrey had carried an entire hidden world next door without being allowed to share it.

The changes should have made Daryan feel as though his old life had been replaced. Instead, the magic appeared to have grown around everything he already loved. Damon still prepared Christmas dinner, Aryanna still adjusted decorations whenever she thought no one was watching, and Geoffrey still occupied the place beside him. Their world had become larger without taking away the home they already shared.

Neither boy spoke for a while. They remained beside the tree until Emily called Geoffrey home, where Daryan followed him with a pillow beneath one arm.

Chip awakened Daryan early on Christmas morning by landing upon Geoffrey’s sleeping bag and walking across both boys until they opened their eyes. Snowbird remained on the dresser, watching his smaller companion create enough noise to wake the entire apartment.

They hurried next door and found Aryanna and Damon waiting beside the tree. Emily followed several minutes later carrying coffee, Geoffrey’s remaining gifts, and several packages intended for both boys.

Daryan received a new winter jacket, several shirts, a leather notebook embossed with his initials, and a framed magical photograph taken during Family Day. The figures shifted within the frame so everyone could be seen. Daryan watched Aryanna and Damon standing beside him while Geoffrey, Theo, Ivan, Harper, and Parker gathered nearby.

The photograph affected him more than he expected. Only months earlier, none of the children inside it had been part of his life except Geoffrey. Now he could recognize each person by the way they moved. Theo kept adjusting the front of his robes, Ivan stood with perfect posture, Harper leaned slightly toward the others, and Parker appeared to be speaking when the picture was taken.

Aryanna opened the silver Gordian Knot necklace next. The charm glowed blue beneath her fingers, and the light became brighter when Daryan placed his hand over hers.

“It recognizes the people closest to whoever wears it,” he explained.

Aryanna traced the knot with one fingertip before pulling him into an embrace. “I love it.”

Damon examined the enchanted sandwich knife with the seriousness of someone receiving a professional tool. He tested the weight in his hand, admired the wooden handle, and listened while Daryan explained the sharpening and safety charms.

“This is going behind the counter the next time the deli opens,” Damon decided.

Geoffrey gave Emily the silver owl brooch. The tiny bird blinked and stretched its wings before settling against her sweater. Emily kissed his cheek and promised to wear it when she returned to work.

She then handed Daryan a wide blue package. Inside was an album filled with photographs of him and Geoffrey throughout their childhood. Most remained still because they had been taken with an ordinary camera, but Emily had placed small enchantments around the pages. Colored borders shifted to match the seasons, written dates appeared beneath each picture, and touching one of the corners caused a faint sound from the captured day to play for several seconds.

Daryan pressed one photograph showing him and Geoffrey seated together at a birthday table. Children laughed faintly from the page, followed by the sound of Geoffrey demanding the largest piece of cake.

“You have always remembered that incorrectly,” Geoffrey said. “I asked for the piece with the most frosting.”

“That was the largest piece.”

Emily smiled as the boys began disputing the difference. “There are empty pages in the back. I thought you might want somewhere to keep the pictures you take at Ilvermorny.”

Daryan looked through the album again. The gift connected the childhood he understood with the magical life he had only begun discovering. Neither part appeared less important beside the other.

“Thank you,” he said before hugging Emily.

“You have been part of our family for a long time,” she told him. “I wanted you to have proof in case Geoffrey becomes difficult.”

“That is going to require a much larger album,” Daryan said.

Emily also gave both boys enchanted winter scarves woven in Ilvermorny blue and cranberry. The fabric warmed automatically in cold weather and loosened if it became caught upon anything. A set of weatherproof quill cases accompanied the scarves, along with several bottles of ink that refused to spill inside a school bag.

Dalon joined them soon afterward with enough wrapped gifts to suggest that he had ignored every reasonable spending limit. His first package contained a shared enchanted broom-racing set. Four miniature brooms hovered above a folding track, responding to small control handles shaped like wands. The course could rearrange itself into mountain, forest, city, and canyon routes.

Geoffrey immediately unfolded the track across the coffee table. “Can we try it now?”

“After everyone finishes opening presents,” Aryanna told him.

Dalon gave each boy a small leather case embossed with a silver MACUSA emblem. Inside were beginner observation puzzles designed for the families of Aurors. When opened, each case created a miniature magical scene containing misplaced objects, hidden footprints, disguised clues, and harmless illusions. The boys would have to study the scene and identify what had happened before the case revealed the answer.

“These are not actual investigations,” Dalon warned. “You are not Aurors, and solving them does not qualify you to follow suspicious people.”

“What if we happen to notice someone suspicious?” Geoffrey asked.

“You find an adult.”

“What if the adult is suspicious?”

“You find a different adult.”

The last gifts from Dalon were brass compass tokens engraved with the boys’ names. Each could identify north, the direction of the nearest registered magical settlement, and the safest marked route toward a public Portkey station.

“They won’t lead you through private property or dangerous magical territory,” Dalon explained. “If a route is unavailable, the token turns red and directs you to remain where you are.”

Daryan closed his fingers around the warm brass disk. “Did Aurors invent these?”

“Aurors improved them after too many young witches and wizards became lost while traveling. Keep it inside your school trunk unless you need it.”

Dalon finally opened the brass Wampus paperweight. He turned it slowly in his hands, admiring the careful detail carved into the miniature creature’s powerful body. When he touched its base, the Wampus prowled around the brass pedestal and released a low growl at his fingers.

“This is impressive,” Dalon said warmly. “Thank you, boys. I’ll keep it on my desk at MACUSA.” His smile became knowing as he looked between Daryan and Geoffrey. “So this is what you were buying while I stood across the street.”

“You still didn’t know what it was,” Geoffrey pointed out.

“No,” Dalon agreed as he placed the Wampus beside Aryanna’s glowing necklace. “You guarded the secret remarkably well.”

By the time the last package had been opened, magical objects covered most of the living room. The miniature brooms circled their folded track, Emily’s owl brooch occasionally stretched its wings, the Gordian Knot around Aryanna’s neck glowed whenever Daryan approached, and one of Dalon’s observation cases had begun tapping impatiently from inside its leather cover.

Daryan sat among the paper and presents, almost overwhelmed by how different the morning felt from every Christmas before it. The number of gifts mattered less than what each one represented. Emily had given him the history he shared with Geoffrey. Dalon had chosen things that welcomed both boys into the magical world. Aryanna wore a symbol of the family she was rebuilding, while Damon held a magical tool meant for the ordinary work he loved.

Magic had not simply filled the room with moving objects. It had given everyone new ways to show that Daryan belonged with them.

Shortly before noon, Chip began tapping urgently against the apartment window. He had returned from a short flight carrying a rolled message that appeared to have been secured to his leg for some time.

Daryan untied the parchment and recognized Eruman’s handwriting. The note announced that he intended to arrive shortly after eleven.

Damon checked the clock. “It is eleven forty.”

Chip lowered his head.

“You forgot to deliver it, didn’t you?” Daryan asked.

The owl chirped defensively and flew toward his food bowl.

A knock sounded at the apartment door before anyone could decide whether to blame him. Daryan hurried across the living room and opened it to find Eruman standing in the hallway. Several wrapped presents floated neatly behind him, and traces of snow clung to his dark traveling cloak despite the cold rain falling over Nashville.

“Grandfather!” Daryan stepped aside to let him enter. “Chip only just gave us your message.”

Eruman looked toward the tiny owl, who had become extremely interested in his food. “I suspected the delivery might have encountered complications.”

Aryanna crossed the room and embraced him. The uncertainty that had marked their first reunion was no longer present, although she still held him as if recovering years they had lost.

“I’m glad you came,” she said.

“I promised Daryan that I would.” Eruman greeted Damon before turning toward Geoffrey and Emily. “I also understood that visiting one household would almost certainly mean visiting both.”

“You were right,” Geoffrey said.

Eruman’s presents settled beneath the tree. He gave Daryan an enchanted study journal that organized notes by subject and produced additional pages when necessary. Daryan tested it by writing Professor Mercer’s name upon the first page. Green tabs immediately appeared along the edge, offering sections for ingredients, brewing instructions, corrections, and safety rules.

“It will not answer questions or complete assignments,” Eruman warned.

“I wasn’t going to ask.”

“You looked as though you were considering it.”

Geoffrey received an illustrated guide to North American magical creatures. The creatures moved across the pages and responded when he spoke to them. A young Wampus attempted to stalk his finger along one margin, while a Thunderbird spread its wings across two pages and produced a tiny rumble of thunder.

Damon opened a charmed recipe book whose pages repelled spills and allowed him to add recipes of his own. Dalon received reinforced dragon-hide gloves designed for Auror fieldwork, while Emily opened a silver correspondence box that organized letters according to their sender.

Eruman saved Aryanna’s present for last. The wide package contained a photograph album bound in dark blue leather. A silver Gordian Knot had been pressed into its cover, and the metal warmed beneath Aryanna’s hand.

She opened the album carefully. The first page held a faded magical photograph of a much younger Eruman standing beside a dark-haired woman. Both figures smiled toward the camera before turning toward one another.

“Your grandmother,” Eruman explained. “This was taken shortly after we were married.”

Aryanna touched the edge of the photograph. The following pages contained pictures of her mother as a child, distant relatives, old family homes, school celebrations, holidays, and weddings. Several pages near the back remained empty.

“For the memories we have yet to make,” Eruman said.

Aryanna closed the album long enough to embrace him again. Daryan watched Eruman hold her and understood that the gift contained more than photographs. It returned a part of Aryanna’s life that had been hidden from her for years.

Christmas dinner filled every available surface. Damon extended the dining table with help from Dalon, while Emily and Aryanna kept the dishes warm with small charms. Eruman listened as Daryan and Geoffrey described the first term, laughing at their impressions of the professors without correcting them or reminding them about unfinished assignments.

Daryan occasionally found himself watching Eruman from across the table. The Headmaster had spent most of Daryan’s life as a person whose name was rarely spoken. Now he sat between Aryanna and Damon, accepted another helping of potatoes, and listened while Geoffrey explained why Professor Gardwick’s Kneazles possessed better judgment than several students.

It was Daryan’s first Christmas as a wizard, but it was also his first Christmas with Eruman. That felt more important than any enchanted gift beneath the tree.

After dinner, Aryanna opened the family album again. Daryan and Geoffrey sat upon the floor near the sofa while Eruman identified the people inside the photographs. He told them about Aryanna’s grandmother, an elderly cousin who enchanted every clock in his home to announce a different time, and a great-aunt who once spent an entire summer attempting to teach a flock of crows to sing opera.

Near the middle of the album, Eruman began turning one page more quickly than the others. Daryan caught sight of a solitary wizard standing before an austere stone building.

“Who is that?”

Eruman’s hand stopped. He looked at the previous page before slowly turning it back.

The wizard in the photograph had brown hair, a neatly trimmed goatee, and a cold expression. He stood with both hands clasped behind his back and watched the camera as though he resented being photographed.

“His name was Quinn Fallory,” Eruman said. “He was my great-uncle.”

Aryanna studied the picture. “Why have I never heard of him?”

“Because members of our family believed forgetting him would be easier than explaining what he became.” Eruman rested his hand near the edge of the page. “Quinn possessed intelligence, wealth, and access to forms of magic most witches and wizards could only study from a distance. None of it satisfied him. He turned toward the Dark Arts because he considered ordinary magic too limited.”

The figure in the photograph shifted his weight and looked away.

“What did he do?” Geoffrey asked.

“He attempted to create a controlled black hole,” Eruman answered. “Quinn combined gravitational enchantments with forbidden magic. He wanted to create something small enough to command and powerful enough to consume any magical barrier placed before it.”

Daryan stared at the wizard. “Did it work?”

“For several seconds. Then he lost control.” Eruman’s voice became quieter as everyone listened. “The black hole began consuming the chamber around it. Stone, metal, spells, and people were drawn toward it. The first Aurors who arrived could not approach closely enough to contain it, so reinforcements were summoned from across the country.”

“How many?” Dalon asked.

“Fifty Aurors participated in the final containment effort. Three of them died before the black hole was destroyed.”

Dalon’s expression changed with the number. As an Auror, he understood better than anyone else in the room how dangerous a threat needed to become before fifty trained officers were called against it.

“What happened to Quinn?” Daryan asked.

“He was consumed by what he created. Nothing remained to recover.”

The apartment fell quiet. Daryan studied the man’s cold face and wondered how someone from the same family as Eruman and Aryanna could have chosen to become so dangerous.

“Why keep his picture?” he asked.

“Because removing him would not erase what he did.” Eruman looked down at the album. “A family history should not contain only those people we are proud to remember. Quinn’s choices destroyed him and killed innocent people. Forgetting him would make it easier to forget the consequences.”

Aryanna studied the photograph for another moment before turning the page. The next picture showed her mother as a young girl seated beneath a tree with a book across her knees. Eruman began describing the garden where the photograph had been taken, and the heaviness left by Quinn’s history gradually loosened.

Before leaving that evening, Eruman asked Daryan to join him in the bedroom. Chip followed and settled upon the desk while Eruman closed the door behind them.

Eruman passed his wand near Daryan’s temple. Silver light briefly revealed the protective barriers around his mind before fading again.

“The protections are holding,” Eruman said. “Nothing has disturbed them since they were reinforced.”

Daryan remembered carrying Connected Objects and the Spaces Between to Eruman before leaving Ilvermorny. Theo had discovered the faded handwritten warning in the margin, and the book had remained with the Headmaster so Professor Vale could examine the ink.

“Has Professor Vale figured out who wrote the note?”

Eruman lowered his wand and gave him a patient look. “Your professors are probably spending Christmas with their families, Daryan. Professor Vale examined the book before leaving, but she is entitled to enjoy the holiday too.”

Daryan looked down. “I wasn’t trying to rush her.”

“I know. You are worried, and unanswered questions are difficult to ignore.” Eruman placed a reassuring hand upon his shoulder. “The protections are holding. When I have useful information concerning the cabinet, I will tell you. Until then, you should try to focus upon enjoying Christmas.”

Daryan glanced toward the bedroom door. Beyond it, he could hear Geoffrey laughing as Dalon attempted to operate the miniature broom-racing set. Aryanna and Emily were discussing the photographs in the family album, while Damon protested that someone had moved the serving knife he needed for the cake.

“I am enjoying it,” Daryan said.

“I am glad.” Eruman smiled. “Do not allow fear of what may happen later to steal the good things happening now.”

Daryan nodded. The cabinet still existed somewhere beyond the protections around his mind, but it had no place inside the apartment that evening. He followed Eruman back into the living room, where Geoffrey immediately demanded that he choose a miniature broom and join the next race.

The days following Christmas passed peacefully. Daryan and Geoffrey worked through their assignments at whichever apartment they occupied that afternoon. Aryanna and Emily supervised their practical exercises, comparing each spell with the authorized parchment before either boy raised a wand.

The letters continued almost daily. Theo reported that he had finally completed his Magical History reading. Ivan sent a careful comparison of the winter skies above Massachusetts and Canada. Parker included a drawing of the young Kneazle that had climbed into his suitcase and refused to leave. Harper’s fourth letter contained another mention of William, who had sent her a more complicated Quodpot formation and invited her to ask questions once they returned to school.

Daryan helped Damon at the deli during several quiet afternoons and spent his evenings with Aryanna. Sometimes they practiced simple spells together. On other nights, she opened the family album and read the names Eruman had written beneath each photograph.

The magical gifts quickly became part of their days. Daryan and Geoffrey raced miniature brooms across the folding track until Geoffrey learned how to use the canyon walls to force Daryan into wider turns. They completed two of Dalon’s observation puzzles and argued over a third until Emily pointed out a footprint both boys had overlooked. Daryan began organizing his Transfiguration notes inside Eruman’s journal, while Geoffrey carried the illustrated creature guide everywhere he went.

Daryan and Geoffrey continued moving between their apartments for sleepovers. Neither boy discussed the arrangement as protection against nightmares. They stayed together because that was where they felt most comfortable, and their parents understood without turning it into another conversation about the cabinet.

New Year’s Eve brought both families into the Marsdale living room again. They watched fireworks rise over downtown Nashville while Chip and Snowbird remained well away from the open window. At midnight, Aryanna used her wand to release blue and gold sparks across the ceiling, and Damon claimed the spell was excessive only because several sparks landed in his hair.

January third arrived sooner than Daryan expected. His completed assignments, winter clothing, gifts for his friends, enchanted study journal, and several of the smaller Christmas presents fit inside his traveling bag. His school trunk and remaining equipment still waited at Ilvermorny.

Chip watched from the curtain rod while Daryan opened the travel cage. “You know how this works.”

The owl turned his back.

“You’ll be inside for less than a minute.”

Chip remained where he was until Daryan offered two pellets and promised a third after they reached the school. Even then, the owl entered the cage with the offended dignity of someone accepting a deeply unfair bargain.

Geoffrey arrived carrying his own bag and Snowbird’s cage. The larger owl sat calmly inside, which made Chip’s complaints considerably less convincing.

Aryanna checked Daryan’s practice record and placed it inside his bag. She embraced him tightly, but she did not repeat every warning she had given him during the break.

“Write when you arrive,” she said. “After that, write because you want to, not only because something has happened.”

“I will.”

Damon embraced him next and reminded him that the deli expected a full report about the second half of the school year. Emily kissed Geoffrey’s forehead while Dalon placed the bronze Portkey medallion upon the coffee table.

The names of the authorized travelers appeared around its edge. As the final ten seconds began glowing across the brass surface, Daryan and Geoffrey collected their luggage and touched the medallion.

Aryanna and Damon stood together in front of them. Daryan kept his eyes upon his parents until the Portkey warmed beneath his fingers and pulled him away.

A moment later, his shoes struck the stone floor inside Ilvermorny’s entrance hall. He stumbled into Geoffrey, who pushed him upright before either of them fell. Professors and prefects directed them away from the arrival circle while another Portkey group began materializing behind them.

Theo reached them first. Ivan followed a moment later with a green scarf wrapped around his neck, and all four boys attempted to speak at once. Harper and Parker appeared near the staircase soon afterward, carrying their holiday bags and cages.

Harper held several rolled pieces of parchment beneath one arm. “William sent me another formation diagram.”

“That makes four,” Parker said. “You have been counting them aloud.”

“He said this one explains how a proper Keeper reacts when the opposing team forces the Quod toward the scoring area.”

Parker looked toward Daryan. “She has been talking about it since our Portkey arrived.”

“You asked what was inside the roll,” Harper reminded him.

Daryan handed them the gifts he had brought from Nashville. Harper immediately opened the broom polish and examined the instructions, while Parker became absorbed in the Kneazle guide before removing the rest of his winter clothing.

Before the conversation could become another argument, the prefects directed everyone toward their separate house passages. Harper and Parker promised to meet the others after they finished unpacking.

Daryan, Geoffrey, Theo, and Ivan returned to the Horned Serpent dormitory together. Their large trunks remained at the foot of their beds, and most of the room looked exactly as they had left it. Chip flew from his cage to his usual bedpost, while Snowbird settled upon the wardrobe and surveyed the room for anything that had changed during his absence.

Daryan placed his holiday bag beside his trunk and distributed the remaining letters and presents. Theo had barely opened the enchanted bookmark before suggesting that they compare their Potions corrections.

Geoffrey stared at him. “We have been back for ten minutes.”

“The assignment is due this week.”

“That does not make it an emergency.”

Ivan removed his scarf and sat beside Theo with his corrected recipes. Daryan laughed as Geoffrey continued complaining, then pulled his own parchment from the bag and joined them around the desk.

 

 

Chapter 16

Flying High

Winter had transformed Ilvermorny while the students were away.

Deep snow covered the grounds and gathered along the castle walls in smooth white banks. Several lower rooftops had nearly disappeared beneath the drifts, while the tallest towers wore narrow crowns of ice that sparkled whenever sunlight broke through the clouds. Snow filled the spaces between stone carvings and softened the steep lines of the battlements, making parts of the castle look as though they had been shaped from the mountain by wind rather than built by human hands.

The cold entered the castle wherever it could. Frost crept across tall windows during the night and arranged itself into moving scenes by morning. Forests grew along the glass, followed by mountain ranges, frozen rivers, and herds of tiny animals that traveled from one pane to another. Heavy curtains covered the dormitory windows after sunset, while enchanted fires burned inside every common room and classroom.

Daryan enjoyed returning to the warmth of the Horned Serpent fire after lessons, but he found himself spending more time outdoors than he had expected. The snow revealed creatures that had remained hidden throughout autumn, and the grounds seemed to change every time he crossed them.

On the morning of their first Flying lesson after the holiday, Daryan left the castle with Geoffrey, Theo, and Ivan. Their boots sank into the freshly cleared path leading away from the western entrance, and their breath formed pale clouds before disappearing into the air. Chip had attempted to follow them until Daryan reminded him that Professor Yelton did not allow owls upon the training course. The little gray bird now watched from an opening beneath the owlery roof, his round head visible between two larger owls.

The path curved beneath a covered stone walkway overlooking the nearest hill. Dozens of tiny blue winter sprites climbed through the snow beside it. Each stood no taller than Daryan’s hand, with narrow limbs, pointed ears, and translucent skin that glowed faintly against the white ground. Their clothing appeared to have been stitched from pine needles and dried flower petals.

Several sprites dragged curled pieces of bark toward the top of the hill. Others rode upon broad seedpods or frozen leaves, using twigs as handles. Once they reached the highest drift, they threw themselves forward and raced down the slope.

One sprite struck a buried root and flew from its piece of bark. It disappeared headfirst into the snow before its legs began kicking above the surface. Two others abandoned their sleds and hurried over, although they were laughing too hard to provide much assistance.

Geoffrey stopped beside the low stone wall. “Are they all right?”

Parker approached from the path behind them with Harper beside him. “Winter sprites can fall from the tops of trees without being injured. Snow is where they play.”

The buried sprite finally emerged and shook itself. A cloud of powder flew over its companions, who immediately retaliated by pushing it back into the drift.

“They appear to be enjoying themselves,” Ivan observed.

One of the sprites noticed the students watching. It climbed onto a piece of curled bark, raised both arms, and released a high whistle before launching down the steepest part of the hill. The bark spun twice, struck a bank of snow, and vanished inside it. The sprite erupted from the other side several feet lower and raised its arms again.

Daryan applauded. The sprite bowed so deeply that it fell from the bark.

Harper laughed as they resumed walking. “I’m not sure whether you encouraged it or insulted it.”

“It bowed.”

“It also fell over.”

“That doesn’t mean it was offended.”

Farther down the path, small tracks crossed the snow in a pattern of long leaps. Daryan followed them with his eyes until he spotted three jackalopes near a cluster of evergreen bushes. Their bodies resembled ordinary rabbits, but narrow branching antlers rose between their ears. Frost clung to the tips, producing tiny sparks whenever the antlers touched a branch.

The largest jackalope rose onto its hind legs and studied the students. Its ears turned toward Parker as he stepped closer to the side of the path.

“They’re looking for snowberries,” Parker explained. “The bushes stay green through winter, but the berries hide beneath the leaves whenever they sense something approaching.”

“Why would berries hide?” Geoffrey asked.

“Because everything tries to eat them.”

“That seems reasonable.”

Parker pointed toward the smallest jackalope. “Watch its antlers.”

The creature lowered its head and touched one antler to a bush. A silver spark moved through the branches, and several dark red berries appeared from beneath the leaves. The jackalope quickly ate them before the bush could hide them again.

The larger creature attempted the same trick, but its antlers became tangled in a strand of ivy. It pulled backward, shaking snow over itself and both companions. The three jackalopes scattered into the bushes, leaving only their tracks behind.

Near the edge of the forest, a herd of frost elk gathered beside the partially frozen Reflecting River. They were slightly smaller than ordinary elk, with silver coats that blended into the winter landscape. Their antlers appeared to be made from cloudy glass. Pale light moved inside each branch whenever they lowered their heads to drink.

Daryan had seen the creatures from a distance before Christmas, but the clear morning offered his first proper look at them. One stepped onto the frozen edge of the river without breaking the surface. Frost spread beneath its hooves, strengthening the ice before the rest of the herd followed.

“They freeze the water as they walk,” Theo said.

Parker nodded. “Only the adults can do it. The calves follow in their tracks until their antlers grow.”

A younger frost elk attempted to step away from the path created by the adults. One hoof broke through the thin surface, and the calf jerked backward. Its mother touched her antlers to the ice, sending a web of silver frost across the opening.

The calf tested the repaired surface before hurrying to her side.

Daryan watched until the herd disappeared behind the trees. The forest no longer seemed occupied only by the dangerous creatures Professor Sylveran had described during their first night. Its winter inhabitants possessed families, habits, and games of their own. They continued living around Ilvermorny whether students noticed them or not.

Natalia caught up with the group near the end of the walkway. She carried a book against her chest, with the silver serpent page marker Daryan and Geoffrey had given her protruding from the top.

“You’re going to Flying with a book?” Geoffrey asked.

“I am taking it to the library after the lesson.”

“What happens if you fall on it?”

Natalia looked at him. “I intend to fall upon the snow, if falling becomes necessary.”

The students left the covered walkway and crossed the final stretch toward the western training grounds. Nearly thirty school brooms rested in straight rows across the snow. Heat charms had cleared a broad field around them, leaving short green grass inside the glowing silver boundary.

The protected flying area extended far beyond the field. Silver lines traveled upward and outward, becoming nearly invisible against the morning sky. Daryan followed them toward the western side of the castle, where they curved around two lower towers and returned over the training grounds. Enchanted markers floated at different heights throughout the space, ranging from broad rings near the field to small silver disks high above the roofs.

Professor Stanley Yelton stood beside the broom rack wearing a long dark coat. His flying goggles rested around his neck, and a wool cap covered his closely cropped gray hair. He waited until every first-year had arrived before closing the gate with a movement of his wand.

“During the autumn, the boundary above this field was raised in stages as your control improved,” he told them. “Most of you can now climb, turn, stop, and descend without presenting an immediate danger to yourselves or everyone nearby.”

Several students smiled at the description.

“Do not mistake that statement for praise,” Yelton continued. “It is the minimum requirement for what we will begin today.”

He raised his wand. The silver lines around the field brightened, revealing the full protected route. It extended across the western grounds, around the two lower towers, and as high as the tallest floating marker.

“Your supervised height restriction has been raised to three hundred feet. The school brooms will not carry you beyond the boundary, and every student will wear a descent charm capable of lowering you if you become separated from your broom.”

Theo tilted his head back until he could see the upper marker. Daryan heard him release a quiet breath, but he did not make his usual complaint about leaving the ground.

“The descent charm is an emergency protection,” Professor Yelton continued. “It is not permission to behave carelessly. Anyone who deliberately tests it will spend the remainder of the lesson helping me inspect broom bristles.”

He distributed small silver clasps that attached to the front of their robes. Each became warm once secured, then faded until only its outline remained visible against the fabric.

The students selected their brooms. Daryan wrapped one gloved hand around his handle and felt a familiar anticipation settle into his chest. He had spent months learning how slight shifts of balance affected the broom, but every earlier height limit had arrived before he could fully enjoy the space around him. Three hundred feet would allow him to build speed without reaching the boundary within seconds.

Professor Yelton began with a controlled ascent. The class rose together and stopped at the first marker fifty feet above the field. From there, they continued to one hundred.

The cold became sharper as Daryan climbed. Wind moved beneath his cloak and pressed his robes against his legs, but the enchanted scarf Emily had given him warmed the skin around his neck. He loosened one hand upon the broom and allowed it to hover.

The students appeared smaller against the open sky than they had near the ground. Harper floated several yards ahead of him, while Parker remained near her left side. Natalia hovered near Ivan, her posture upright as she carefully adjusted to the stronger current. Geoffrey grinned whenever he looked down, but he maintained both hands upon his handle and kept his broom steady.

They climbed to one hundred and fifty feet. The castle grounds opened beneath them. Snow-covered courtyards appeared between the different wings, enclosed bridges connected towers at several levels, and smoke rose from chimneys before being pulled apart by the wind. The forest stretched across the mountains until its darker trees became a single line along the horizon.

Professor Yelton’s amplified voice reached them from the field. “Remain at the height where you can control the broom without freezing, panicking, or gripping the handle as though you intend to break it.”

Theo stopped at the two-hundred-foot marker. His posture was rigid, but his broom remained level beneath him. Daryan moved closer without crossing into the space Theo needed to maneuver.

“You made it higher than last time,” Daryan said.

Theo kept his eyes upon the horizon instead of looking down. “I know.”

“Are you all right?”

“I will be if no one tells me exactly how far the ground is beneath us.”

Ivan hovered nearby and wisely kept his calculations to himself.

Professor Yelton permitted the students who remained comfortable to continue. Daryan leaned forward and climbed. Geoffrey followed several yards behind him, while Harper reached the highest marker first.

The final hundred feet changed the view completely. Daryan rose above the lower towers and saw sections of Ilvermorny that had remained hidden from every courtyard. Greenhouses shone beneath panels cleared of snow. Narrow paths crossed terraces along the mountain, and several waterfalls had frozen against the cliffs in long white columns.

Beyond the castle, the Reflecting River twisted through the forest. Dark water moved beneath thin sections of ice, while the frost elk crossed brighter surfaces strengthened by their hooves. From that height, the herd resembled drops of silver traveling between the trees.

Daryan’s nervousness disappeared beneath the wonder of seeing so much at once. The broom responded to every adjustment of his body, remaining steady even when the wind pressed against him. For several minutes, he forgot about the hidden cabinet, Riven’s insults, and every unanswered question waiting elsewhere in the school. Nothing existed except the cold air, the mountains, and the broom carrying him above them.

Chip launched from the owlery and flew toward the training boundary. The charms prevented him from entering, but he followed the silver line outside it and called loudly enough for Daryan to hear.

Daryan laughed and waved. Chip banked around the nearest tower before settling upon its roof to watch.

Professor Yelton instructed the students to begin their descent in broad circles. Harper shifted her weight and entered a smooth turn. Instead of pulling the broom into the curve after reaching the marker, she leaned before it, allowing the handle to bank naturally beneath her.

Daryan recognized the movement as different from the turns they had practiced during autumn. He followed her into the circle and attempted to match it. His broom banked more sharply than expected, but it carried his existing speed through the curve.

Harper looked over her shoulder. “That was close.”

“What did you do?”

“A Quodpot bank turn. William included it in one of the diagrams he sent me.”

“I thought Quodpot players carried an exploding ball.”

“They still have to turn.” Harper demonstrated again, shifting her shoulders before guiding the handle. “The movement lets a player change direction without losing as much speed.”

Daryan attempted it a second time. His broom entered the curve properly, although he came out several feet lower than Harper.

“You dropped your right shoulder,” she told him.

“You dropped both of yours.”

“At the correct time.”

Daryan adjusted his position and tried again. The broom swept through a cleaner arc, and excitement moved through him when he emerged with most of his speed intact.

Harper noticed his expression. “Do not make me regret showing you.”

“You already showed me.”

“That is not the same as giving you permission to become troublesome.”

Professor Yelton called for the class to continue descending. Daryan followed the spiral toward the field, repeating the turn whenever enough space opened around him. By the time his boots touched the grass, his hands ached from the cold and his face felt numb, but he wanted to return to the sky immediately.

The higher boundary changed their Flying lessons throughout January. Professor Yelton no longer needed to fill every exercise with short sprints across the field. He taught them how to climb against strong wind, descend through crosscurrents, and use the space around the castle without drifting beyond the protected route.

Theo continued stopping below the highest markers, but he added a little distance during every lesson. No one teased him about it. Holding a broom steady at two hundred feet required more courage from Theo than racing to three hundred required from Daryan.

Harper practiced the techniques William sent her and occasionally allowed Daryan to study them. Some were designed for Quodpot rather than racing. One involved climbing above an opponent before dropping into the open space ahead. Another used a false shift of the shoulders to suggest a turn before continuing straight.

Daryan adapted what he could. He learned that speed depended upon preparation as much as courage. Entering a turn correctly mattered more than forcing the broom through it, and a controlled dive could create enough momentum to carry him into the next climb.

Professor Yelton noticed the changes. He adjusted Daryan’s grip, corrected the angle of his knees, and instructed him to stop looking at the ground whenever he became uncertain.

“The broom travels where you direct it,” Yelton told him during one lesson. “If your attention remains behind you, your control will follow.”

Daryan practiced until he could feel a mistake before the broom completed it. He still could not pass Harper, but the distance between them narrowed.

Near the middle of January, the class arrived to find a complete aerial course suspended above the western grounds. Broad rings floated at different heights, beginning with a steep climb from the field. The route passed along the protected side of the castle, curved around the first lower tower, descended through a line of cranberry flags, and returned around the second tower before crossing the finish above the field.

The course occupied the entire supervised boundary. Silver barriers shimmered around the towers, preventing students from striking the stone, while descent charms waited beneath the sharpest turns.

Professor Yelton walked between the brooms as the students examined the route. “You will fly in groups of five. This is not a simple test of speed. Missing a marker, leaving the course, or forcing another flyer from the route will result in disqualification.”

He demonstrated the course upon his own broom. Rather than flying at full speed, he paused near each difficult section and explained how the wind changed around the towers. The first created an upward current capable of lifting a broom into the next marker. The second pushed toward the mountain and required students to enter the turn from the outside.

Professor Yelton separated the class into groups. Daryan was placed with Harper, Riven, Fred Brinks, and a Pukwudgie girl named Livia Grant. Geoffrey, Theo, Ivan, Parker, and Natalia stood near the starting area waiting for later groups.

Daryan carried his broom into position. Excitement pressed against the inside of his chest, but it no longer felt like the wild urge to move as quickly as possible. He studied the first ring, the direction of the flags, and the clouds moving above the towers. Every part of the course offered information if he remembered to notice it.

Harper mounted beside him and pulled her goggles over her eyes. “The current around the first tower is stronger than it looks.”

“You think I wasn’t listening?”

“I think you were staring at the flags and imagining yourself passing me.”

Daryan settled onto his broom. “I can do both.”

Harper smiled but returned her attention to the course.

Riven mounted on Daryan’s other side. He had spoken little to Daryan since returning from Christmas, although his resentment appeared whenever they competed. Ludan watched from beyond the starting line, while Fred adjusted his gloves without looking toward either of them.

Professor Yelton raised his wand. A sphere of red light appeared above the tip, holding the five brooms in place until every rider was prepared.

The light turned green.

Daryan kicked away from the ground. His broom surged beneath him as the five students climbed toward the first ring. Harper gained an immediate lead, but Daryan remained close enough to hear the rush of her broom through the wind.

They passed through the ring and turned toward the castle. Daryan shifted his weight before reaching the marker, using the Quodpot bank turn Harper had demonstrated. The broom curved without losing much speed, carrying him toward the higher section of the route.

Livia followed several lengths behind him. Fred had fallen farther back during the climb, while Riven approached quickly from Daryan’s right.

The first tower rose ahead. Wind curled around its stone walls, lifting loose powder from the roof in long white streams. Harper entered the current from below and allowed it to carry her upward toward the next ring.

Daryan followed. The wind caught the underside of his broom and raised him faster than expected. For one moment, his body became lighter against the handle. He leaned forward, guided the broom through the ring, and entered the line of cranberry flags.

The course dropped steeply.

Harper descended first. Her blue-and-cranberry robes snapped behind her as she turned between the flags. Daryan lowered himself over the handle and followed, allowing the broom to build speed without surrendering control.

The flags passed in rapid succession. He shifted left, then right, moving his weight before every turn. His broom carried him cleanly through the descent.

Harper glanced back and saw him approaching. She leaned farther forward.

Daryan smiled despite the cold air striking his face. He had never flown this quickly for so long. The higher course gave the broom room to move, and every lesson since September seemed to return through his hands and knees. He no longer reacted after the broom changed direction. He moved with it.

They cleared the final flag and entered the long curve around the second tower. The wind pressed toward the mountain, exactly as Professor Yelton had warned.

Harper entered from the outside. Daryan followed her path and felt the current catch his cloak. He shifted his shoulders, lowered one knee, and kept the broom inside the protected route.

For several seconds, he drew close enough to see the silver buckle upon the back of Harper’s boot.

Another broom rushed toward him from behind.

Riven entered the turn too quickly. Instead of using the outside of the curve, he forced his broom between Daryan and the silver boundary. The protection flashed and pushed him inward.

Daryan moved away before their handles collided. The adjustment cost him speed, and Harper gained several feet as she completed the turn.

Riven remained beside Daryan. Anger twisted his face when he realized the boundary had prevented him from passing.

The final stretch waited beyond the tower. Daryan straightened his broom and leaned forward. The handle accelerated beneath him, carrying him away from Riven and toward Harper.

The finish marker appeared above the field.

Harper remained less than a full broom length ahead. Daryan concentrated upon the path before him, resisting the urge to look behind.

A movement at the edge of his vision drew his attention.

Riven had removed one hand from his broom. His other remained clenched around the handle while he reached beneath his robes.

Daryan looked back as Riven drew his wand.

The boy’s gaze was fixed ahead. Whether he was looking at Daryan, Harper, or the course itself was impossible to tell. His wand began to rise.

A sharp whistle cut through the air.

Riven’s broom stopped accelerating. The handle turned downward despite his attempts to force it forward, carrying him out of the active route beneath a protective sphere of silver light.

Daryan faced the finish again. Harper had gained several yards during the distraction. He pushed his broom faster, but there was no longer enough distance to catch her.

She crossed first. Daryan passed through the finish less than a second later, followed by Livia and Fred.

Professor Yelton directed the four remaining students into a wide circle before allowing them to descend. Daryan’s excitement from the race had become mixed with an uneasy awareness of the distance beneath him. If Riven had cast a spell, even a minor one, the result might have affected a broom traveling hundreds of feet above the ground.

Daryan landed several yards from Harper. His boots touched the grass, and the solid surface beneath them provided more comfort than it had at the beginning of the lesson.

Riven stood near the edge of the field beside Professor Yelton. His broom lay upon the ground, while he still held his wand near his robes.

Professor Yelton extended one hand. “Your wand, Mr. Bower.”

“I didn’t cast anything.”

“Give it to me.”

Riven’s face tightened, but he placed the wand in Yelton’s open palm.

“I was only holding it,” Riven insisted. “No spell left the wand.”

“You removed one hand from your broom during an active race, drew a wand at three hundred feet, and began raising it while four other students occupied the course.” Professor Yelton’s voice remained controlled, which made his anger more apparent. “A spell did not need to leave the wand for your actions to endanger them.”

“I wasn’t going to hurt anyone.”

“Then you created that danger for no purpose at all. That does not improve your position.”

Riven looked toward Ludan, but his friend remained beyond the starting line. Fred had stopped several yards away and stared at the snow along the edge of the heated field.

“You will serve detention for the next two evenings,” Professor Yelton continued. “You are also suspended from active Flying lessons for two weeks. You will still report to this field, but you will remain on the ground under my supervision.”

“Two weeks?”

“You should be grateful that I stopped the broom before your decision produced a more serious consequence.”

Riven opened his mouth again, but Professor Yelton raised one hand.

“The discussion is finished. Your wand will be delivered to the Wampus Head of House, who will decide when it should be returned.”

Riven folded his arms and turned away. His anger remained visible in the rigid line of his shoulders, but he did not argue again.

Geoffrey reached Daryan before the remaining students resumed the lesson. “He was looking toward you.”

“I don’t know what he was looking at.”

“He pulled out his wand while he was behind you.”

Daryan glanced at the upper course. The markers drifted peacefully around the towers, giving no sign that anything unusual had happened between them.

“Professor Yelton stopped him,” Harper said as she joined them. Her earlier excitement had faded, although she remained calmer than Geoffrey. “Whatever Riven intended, he didn’t get to do it.”

Theo and Ivan approached from the starting line. Theo looked from Daryan to the height of the course before tightening the front of his cloak.

“One spell could have caused more than one person to fall,” he said quietly.

That possibility had already occurred to Daryan. Riven might have intended something harmless, but magic rarely remained harmless when used carelessly. A flash of light, a sudden sound, or an unexpected movement near a broom could have sent another student into the boundary or the side of a tower.

Daryan did not feel victorious despite completing the race. He felt cold in a way the enchanted scarf could not correct.

Harper lightly touched his arm. “You were close before you looked back.”

Daryan returned his attention to her. “You still crossed first.”

“This time.” Her competitive expression returned, although it remained gentler than before. “You used the tower current properly.”

“You sound disappointed.”

“I am adjusting my expectations.”

The familiar challenge helped loosen some of the tension in Daryan’s chest. Professor Yelton called the next group toward the starting line, and Daryan followed his friends away from the active field.

Riven began serving his suspension during the following Flying lesson. A row of unused brooms rested beside the storage shed, along with several cloths, inspection tools, and tins of polish. While the class climbed toward the first markers, Riven remained below beneath Professor Yelton’s supervision.

The lessons continued without further trouble. Daryan practiced the aerial course until he could complete the route without wasting movement around the towers. Harper still crossed the finish ahead of him, but the difference became small enough that she stopped looking back to measure the distance.

Daryan enjoyed every improvement. Flying offered immediate proof of what practice could accomplish. A turn that threw him off balance during one lesson became manageable during the next. A climb that exhausted the broom could be shortened by entering the current at a better angle. He did not need to wonder whether his progress belonged to Eruman or whether a professor expected more because of his family. No one else could balance the broom for him.

During the final lesson of Riven’s suspension, Daryan followed Harper through a steep descent and used the tower current to close the distance. They crossed the finish close enough that Professor Yelton needed the course enchantment to determine who arrived first.

Harper had won by several inches.

They landed together near the broom rack. Harper pushed her goggles onto her forehead and released a cloud of breath into the cold air.

“You made me miss the inside line.”

Daryan removed his gloves and flexed his aching fingers. “Is that your way of saying I nearly passed you?”

“It is my way of saying you were in an inconvenient location.”

Professor Yelton approached while they returned their brooms. He complimented Harper’s recovery after the final turn before looking toward Daryan.

“You anticipated the current well, Mr. Marsdale. Your control has improved considerably since the autumn.”

“Thank you, Professor.”

The praise warmed Daryan more than the enchanted scarf. Harper had introduced him to the turn, and Professor Yelton had corrected his posture, but Daryan had practiced until the movement became natural. His progress in the air belonged to him.

Near the end of January, the deepest part of winter settled across Ilvermorny. Snow continued falling over the castle, and the winter sprites built increasingly complicated courses along the hills. Their paths curved around trees, passed beneath exposed roots, and launched over narrow trenches dug by Pukwudgie workers.

The sprites began organizing races. They marked their courses with frozen berries and gathered upon the banks to whistle for their favorites. One wore a crown made from pine needles and insisted upon beginning every race several feet ahead of the others. Whenever another sprite objected, the crowned racer threw snow at it until the argument became a battle involving the entire hill.

The jackalopes grew bolder as winter continued. They approached the covered walkways in search of treats and occasionally followed Herbology students carrying baskets of roots. Professor Rosloe placed signs warning everyone not to feed them, but someone regularly ignored her. The jackalopes learned to wait near the greenhouse doors and shake frost from their antlers whenever a student passed.

The frost elk remained closer to the river. Their shining paths spread across the ice, allowing smaller creatures to cross safely between the banks. Daryan sometimes watched them during the free period before dinner. The herd moved with a quiet certainty that made the forest feel less threatening, even when shadows passed among the deeper trees.

His regular lessons became more demanding. Professor Mercer introduced potions requiring ingredients to be added within seconds of one another. Professor Wallaby assigned transformations that needed to maintain their altered form for an entire class, and Professor Muldawny expected every student to perform the basic wand movements without glancing at the diagrams.

Daryan used the silver-handled magnifying glass Geoffrey had given him to study his Transfiguration work. The enchanted lens revealed traces of an object’s original form beneath the transformation, allowing him to identify where his concentration had weakened. Professor Wallaby permitted the tool during practice but not graded exercises, reminding Daryan that understanding a mistake was different from relying upon the glass to find it.

The days filled themselves with lessons, homework, meals, Flying, letters, and evenings beside the common-room fire. January passed without another dream, whisper, or unexplained awakening. With each peaceful night, Daryan found it easier to trust the protections surrounding his mind.

The cabinet began to feel distant. He still remembered the dark mist, black fluid, and snakes moving along the edges of the other corridor, but those images no longer waited behind every quiet moment. He stopped expecting to hear his name whenever he entered an empty passage, and he no longer checked every shadow before turning a corner.

One evening near the end of the month, Daryan returned to the Horned Serpent dormitory alone. Geoffrey and Theo were still working in the library, while Ivan had gone to the Astronomy tower to ask Professor Gravis about an assignment. Chip and Snowbird were exercising in the owlery, leaving the room unusually still.

The fire from the common room below produced a faint glow along the staircase. Outside the dormitory windows, snow moved past the glass in slow, scattered flakes. The frost covering one pane had shaped itself into a forest of white trees, although the tiny animals living among them had stopped moving as the light faded.

Daryan placed his books upon the desk and removed his winter cloak. He intended to change before dinner and read another section of his Transfiguration chapter while he waited for the others.

As he turned toward his bed, he noticed a small package resting upon the bedside table.

It had been wrapped in plain brown paper and secured with a narrow piece of black string. A folded tag rested beneath the knot.

DARYAN MARSDALE

No sender had signed the other side.

Daryan picked up the tag without touching the package. Late Christmas gifts had continued arriving throughout the dormitory since everyone returned, and older students occasionally left small presents beside someone’s bed. The package might have come from a classmate who had forgotten to deliver it earlier.

Even so, its lack of a sender made him uneasy.

He glanced toward the staircase. Sabine or one of the older Horned Serpents would be in the common room below. He considered taking the unopened package to her before touching anything else.

The black string shifted beneath his fingers.

Daryan looked down. The knot had loosened slightly, although he did not remember pulling it.

A quiet certainty entered his thoughts. One of his friends had left the package. That explanation seemed obvious now that he considered it. No stranger could have entered the Horned Serpent dormitory, and no dangerous object could have appeared beside his bed without the castle noticing.

The thought settled so naturally that his concern began to feel foolish.

Daryan sat upon the edge of the bed and loosened the remaining string. The brown paper unfolded with almost no sound, revealing a small wooden box. Its lid bore no carving or lock, and the wood felt ordinary beneath his thumb.

He opened it.

A gemstone rested upon a square of dark cloth.

Its color changed beneath the light from the window. At one angle, it appeared gray. When Daryan tilted the box, deep blue spread beneath the surface. The center remained so dark that it looked almost black, as though the color continued much farther into the stone than its size should permit.

The gemstone was no larger than the end of his thumb. Its uneven edges suggested it had been removed from something larger rather than cut for jewelry. Thin silver lines moved through its depths whenever the angle changed, appearing and disappearing before Daryan could determine whether they formed a pattern.

He should have called someone.

The thought arrived clearly, but it no longer carried any urgency. The stone looked harmless. It might have been intended for Transfiguration practice or included with one of the magical puzzles Dalon had given him.

Daryan reached into the box and lifted it with his right hand.

Warmth entered his fingertips.

It spread slowly across his palm and continued along the inside of his wrist. The sensation was not painful. It felt almost comforting, like placing his hands near the common-room fire after crossing the frozen courtyard.

Daryan turned the gemstone beneath the dim light. The silver lines inside it gathered near the surface.

The warmth traveled up his arm.

His skin tingled beneath his sleeve. A soft pressure settled across his chest and reached the base of his neck, where it remained for several seconds. Daryan attempted to release the gemstone, but his fingers did not immediately respond.

The sounds of the castle began to fade.

The fire burning in the common room disappeared first. Distant footsteps vanished from the corridor, followed by the movement of wind outside the windows. The ordinary creaks of the dormitory floor and bed frames became so quiet that Daryan could hear only his own breathing.

Then that disappeared too.

Absolute silence closed around him.

Daryan looked toward the open curtains surrounding his bed. Nothing had moved, but the room appeared farther away than it had moments earlier. The walls leaned slightly toward the windows, and the beds seemed to stretch into narrow shapes at the edge of his vision.

The gemstone remained warm inside his hand.

For one brief moment, Daryan thought something moved beneath its surface. A shadow crossed the dark center, too fast and indistinct to identify. The silver lines followed it before scattering again.

His heart should have been pounding, but he could no longer feel it.

The staircase lengthened beyond the open dormitory door. Darkness gathered below, filling the space where the common room should have been. Daryan stared at it, unable to remember whether he had entered the bedroom alone.

A voice called his name.

“Daryan?”

The sound broke through the silence without coming from the gemstone.

Daryan’s fingers opened.

The ordinary room returned around him. The beds regained their proper shape, the wind moved beyond the windows, and the distant common-room fire crackled beneath the staircase.

Geoffrey climbed into the dormitory carrying several books against his chest. “Theo found another source for our Potions assignment. He wants us to compare the recipes before dinner.”

Daryan looked down at the gemstone in his palm. For a moment, he could not remember where it had come from.

He placed it inside the wooden box, covered it with the brown paper, and opened his bedside drawer. The package settled between several folded pieces of parchment and his spare quills.

“Did he bring the book with him?” Daryan asked.

“He’s reading it downstairs. Ivan should be back from the Astronomy tower soon.” Geoffrey placed his books upon his own bed. “Are you coming?”

Daryan closed the drawer and stood. He knew there had been something else he meant to ask, but the thought had already begun slipping beyond his reach. It felt unimportant, no more substantial than trying to remember a sentence from a dream after waking.

He reached for the books he had placed upon the desk. By the time he followed Geoffrey down to the common room, he could no longer remember why he had been standing beside the open drawer.

Theo waited near the fireplace with the Potions book spread across his knees. Ivan arrived a few minutes later, bringing cold air with him from the tower staircase. The four boys compared their assignments until the dinner bell sounded.

Their conversation moved toward the next Flying lesson and whether the falling snow would force Professor Yelton to change the aerial course. Daryan joined the discussion without thinking again about the plain brown package upon his bedside table.

The drawer remained closed when the boys returned from dinner. Daryan completed part of his Transfiguration work, changed into his pajamas, and climbed into bed while Chip settled upon the bedpost above him. Only a few feet away, the gemstone rested beneath the brown paper in complete darkness. Silvery threads of light slowly spread through its blackened center, branching and joining until a delicate web began forming inside the stone.

 

 

Chapter 17

Madness Begins

The first true thaw arrived during the final week of February.

Sunlight struck the southern roofs throughout the morning, loosening snow that had remained frozen since Christmas. Sheets of it slid from the stone and landed in the courtyards with heavy, muffled crashes. Meltwater poured through carved channels along the walls, carrying small pieces of ice toward the lower terraces and the forest below.

The winter sprites abandoned their hill before the snow disappeared completely. Daryan saw the last group while walking beneath the covered western passage with Geoffrey, Theo, Ivan, Harper, and Parker. The tiny blue creatures dragged their curled leaves and pieces of bark toward a hollow beneath an ancient tree. One remained at the entrance long enough to wave before following the others underground.

Daryan waved back. He was sorry to see them leave, although the changing season brought new creatures onto the grounds almost every day.

Brooklings awakened inside the meltwater channels. Their clear bodies were barely taller than Daryan’s fingers, and tiny stones could be seen tumbling through their stomachs whenever they drank. They rode the flowing water down the sides of the castle, caught themselves upon drainpipes, and climbed back toward the roofs to begin again. Their laughter sounded like pebbles clicking together beneath a stream.

Glasswing finches returned to the castle towers in flocks. Sunlight passed through their transparent feathers and divided into narrow bands of color that moved across the stone. The birds gathered around warm chimneys and sang in sharp, chiming notes that caused the remaining icicles to vibrate.

Near the Reflecting River, the frost elk began shedding the cloudy outer layers of their antlers. Pale shells broke away in curved pieces and dissolved before touching the ground, revealing silver branches beneath them. The youngest calves followed the floating fragments and attempted to catch them with their mouths.

Daryan stopped whenever he had time to watch. The spring creatures gave him reasons to take longer routes between classes, and the warmer sunlight made the castle feel less enclosed after months of snow. He had expected to miss winter Flying, but patches of green had already begun appearing across the western field. Before long, Professor Yelton would no longer need heat charms to clear the course.

Ilvermorny appeared to be awakening around him.

Daryan should have felt the same. Instead, he began waking each morning with the exhaustion of someone who had not slept at all.

The first dream was so brief that he barely understood it while it was happening.

Daryan stood inside the forest beyond Ilvermorny. Snow covered the ground beneath bare trees, and moonlight shone across a narrow trail leading toward a distant clearing. He could not feel the cold, although every breath appeared as mist before his face.

Something waited between the trees.

Daryan followed the trail. Branches moved above him without any wind, scraping against one another with a dry sound. The forest remained familiar until the image flickered.

The snow vanished.

Gray ash covered the ground, and the trees became blackened shapes. Dark mist drifted between their trunks. Some of the branches had broken, while others supported long pale snakes that hung like abandoned ropes. More moved through the ash along the outer edges of the trail, slipping beneath exposed roots and disappearing into hollow trees.

The sky above the ruined forest was almost entirely black. It contained no stars, moon, or clouds. Only a massive rift disturbed the darkness, stretching across the heavens in every imaginable shade of blue. Pale silver-blue glowed along its outer edges, while cobalt, sapphire, and midnight blue twisted through its center. The entire wound in the sky appeared to be stretching toward a point somewhere beyond the horizon. Its light formed long, tapering streams, as though an enormous gravitational force in the distance were pulling the rift away from the world.

Daryan stopped.

The cabinet stood in the clearing ahead.

Its dark wooden surface had split in several places. Tarnished brass hinges clung to the doors, and unfamiliar symbols had been carved around the frame. Black fluid ran from the upper corners and disappeared beneath the cabinet without staining the ash.

The image flickered again.

Snow returned. The trees became whole, and Ilvermorny’s towers rose beyond them. The cabinet appeared newer, but darkness filled the narrow space between its doors.

Daryan tried to step backward.

His body moved forward.

The forest changed with every step. Snow became ash, healthy trees became blackened trunks, and moonlight disappeared beneath the other realm’s black sky. The enormous blue rift remained overhead whenever the ruined world returned, its luminous center stretching farther into the distance as though the unseen force pulling upon it had grown stronger. The cabinet remained fixed through every version.

Something moved behind its doors.

Daryan awakened before reaching the clearing.

He stared through the curtains surrounding his bed while his heart slowed. Pale morning light entered through the dormitory windows, and the other boys remained asleep. Chip watched from the bedpost with his feathers raised.

Daryan remembered the forest and the sensation of being pulled forward. When he attempted to recall what had waited in the clearing, the image slipped away.

By the time he dressed, only a faint uneasiness remained. He dismissed it as an ordinary dream and followed his friends to breakfast.

Inside his closed bedside drawer, the gemstone rested beneath its brown paper. The silvery web spreading through its dark center had reached nearly every edge.

Professor Vale’s routine examinations continued to show that the protections around Daryan’s mind remained intact. Nothing appeared to have crossed or broken the barriers. Daryan had no dream he could remember well enough to report, and the gemstone had already erased every thought of the package he found in January.

The exhaustion remained.

At first, no one questioned it. The professors had increased the first-years’ assignments after Christmas, and tired students appeared at every breakfast table. Daryan assumed he had stayed awake reading later than he realized. He began setting his books aside earlier, but additional sleep did nothing to improve how he felt in the morning.

Several days later, Daryan joined Geoffrey, Theo, Ivan, Harper, Parker, and Natalia near the end of the Horned Serpent table during lunch. Students were permitted to sit with friends from other houses at midday, and Harper had spread one of William’s Quodpot diagrams beside her plate.

Arrows crossed the parchment in several colors, marking different flight paths around a circular scoring area. Small figures moved along the lines whenever Harper touched one of the symbols. The diagram had been folded so many times that the creases were beginning to wear pale.

Harper watched the older students entering the Great Hall. “William has been acting distant lately. His last letter was only a few sentences, and yesterday he walked past me without even noticing.”

Natalia glanced toward the seventh-year Horned Serpents. William had not arrived with them. “He graduates this year. Between Quodpot and preparing for his final examinations, he barely notices me some days.”

“The results determine which careers seventh-years can pursue after graduation,” Theo added. “He probably has more work than all of us combined.”

Geoffrey looked at Harper’s collection of diagrams. “He may also be running out of ways to explain Quodpot formations through the mail.”

Harper considered the explanation before rolling the parchment closed. “That’s probably all it is.”

Natalia placed the silver serpent marker inside her book. “If he continues ignoring you after examinations, I will remind him that responding to people does not prevent graduation.”

Daryan smiled faintly at the remark, but his attention drifted before the conversation moved on. The silver plates along the table darkened around him.

For one second, the food vanished.

Black fluid filled the serving dishes, moving in slow circles as if something beneath the surface were stirring it. The Great Hall’s banners hung in torn strips, and dark mist concealed the enchanted ceiling. Snakes wound around the table legs and slid between the benches without touching any of the students.

Daryan jerked his hands away from his plate.

The Great Hall returned. His lunch remained untouched in front of him, and the blue-and-cranberry banners moved gently beneath the enchanted ceiling.

Geoffrey looked at him. “What happened?”

Daryan stared at the ordinary serving dish between them. He knew that something about it had frightened him, but the reason was already fading.

“I thought I saw something move.”

Parker examined the edge of the table. “Under the bench?”

“I don’t know.” Daryan picked up his fork, hoping the movement would end the attention. “It was probably a shadow.”

The others gradually returned to their conversation, although Natalia continued watching him from across the table.

The waking flickers remained brief at first.

A corridor would change for less than a second as Daryan crossed it. Clean stone became cracked and wet, enchanted lights turned into pale flames, and portraits vanished from their frames. Once, he saw a snake coiled around the base of a suit of armor. When he looked again, only a decorative rope occupied the space.

The images left fear behind, but not memory. By the time Daryan reached his next classroom, he could no longer explain why he had stopped walking.

The gemstone’s influence extended farther from the Horned Serpent dormitory as the webbing inside it thickened. Thin branches of silver light crossed one another through its dark center, building a structure that resembled veins spreading through black glass.

Daryan knew nothing about it.

His concentration began failing during lessons. He read the same paragraphs repeatedly without understanding them and sometimes forgot questions before he finished writing the answers. His thoughts moved normally one moment and dissolved the next.

During Magical History, Daryan copied a sentence from the board and moved to the line below. The stone wall behind the professor flickered before he could begin the next sentence.

The classroom disappeared.

Daryan sat inside a ruined chamber beneath a partially collapsed ceiling. Dark mist hung in the upper corners, and black fluid ran down the walls in narrow streams. Hundreds of snakes moved around the outer edges of the room. Some slipped through cracks in the floor, while others hung from exposed rafters and watched him with pale eyes.

The students surrounding Daryan remained in their seats, but their bodies appeared as shadowed shapes beneath torn robes. None turned toward him.

The cabinet stood behind the professor’s desk.

Its doors opened a fraction.

Something inside released a slow breath.

“Daryan.”

Natalia’s voice reached him from somewhere beyond the ruined chamber.

He blinked.

The classroom returned. Students were collecting their books, and the professor had begun erasing the board. Daryan’s quill remained pressed against his parchment, leaving a large pool of ink beneath the tip.

Natalia stood beside his desk with one hand resting near his shoulder. “The lesson ended.”

Daryan lifted the quill. “I know.”

Her eyes moved toward the parchment. “You have written that Massachusetts established the same magical council three times.”

Daryan looked down. The sentence appeared on three consecutive lines, each written in his own handwriting.

“I was copying the board.”

“The board displayed it once.”

“I know that.” Embarrassment sharpened his voice more than he intended. He used a blotting cloth to absorb the spilled ink. “I stayed awake too late.”

Natalia did not respond with one of her usual remarks. She studied him for a moment before gathering the ink bottle he had nearly knocked over.

“You were staring at the wall,” she said.

“I was thinking.”

“You looked frightened.”

Daryan glanced toward the clean stone behind the professor’s desk. Nothing occupied the space except an empty chair and several erased pieces of chalk.

“I’m tired,” he repeated.

Natalia placed the cap securely upon his ink bottle and handed it to him. “Then you should sleep.”

The answer sounded simple. Daryan wished it were.

The next dream placed him inside his bedroom.

Geoffrey, Theo, and Ivan slept in their beds while moonlight entered through the windows. Chip rested upon the bedpost with his head tucked beneath one wing. Everything appeared exactly as it should.

Daryan stood beside his own bed and watched himself sleeping.

The room flickered.

The beds became rusted frames covered with torn gray fabric. The walls cracked, and black vines surrounded the windows. Glass vanished from the nearest frame, revealing the other realm beyond the castle.

The sky was empty and black except for the massive rift formed from countless shades of blue. It stretched from one horizon toward the other, but the farthest portion appeared to be drawn away into the distance. Long streams of blue light narrowed as they extended from it, pulled outward by a gravitational force powerful enough to distort the shape of the rift without tearing it completely apart.

The cabinet stood where Daryan’s desk should have been.

Its doors trembled as something struck them from inside.

The bedroom returned to normal, but the cabinet remained. It flickered against the desk so rapidly that both objects appeared to occupy the same space.

Whispering slipped through the doors.

The voices overlapped too completely for Daryan to understand them. Beneath the murmur came the faint sound of scales moving over wood. It began quietly, almost concealed by the whispering, before multiplying into the distant slithering of thousands upon thousands of snakes.

Daryan moved closer without intending to.

The room changed around him. One step carried him through the familiar dormitory. The next placed him within its ruined reflection. Each flicker revealed more snakes along the floor, beneath the beds, and across the rafters.

A man spoke from beyond the cabinet.

“Not yet.”

Daryan stopped.

The voice was deeper than the others and carried through them without becoming louder.

“Who are you?” Daryan asked.

The doors became still.

“You will remember when you are ready.”

Daryan awakened lying on his side with his right hand resting against the bedside drawer.

He pulled it away and sat upright. The dormitory appeared normal. His desk stood where it belonged, and no cabinet occupied the room.

Daryan could remember standing beside his bed, but the rest of the dream broke apart before he fully opened the curtains. The man’s voice vanished first. The cabinet followed.

By breakfast, Daryan remembered only that he had slept badly.

His exhaustion became more difficult to conceal. During Transfiguration, Professor Wallaby instructed the students to transform a wooden spoon into a writing quill. Daryan understood the assignment when he raised his wand, but the intended object disappeared from his thoughts halfway through the movement.

The spoon lengthened. A feather grew from one end, but the rounded wooden bowl remained attached to the other.

Professor Wallaby lifted the object and examined it from several angles. “Your transformation is stable, Mr. Marsdale, but I cannot imagine this will be comfortable to write with.”

Several students smiled. Ordinarily, Daryan would have laughed with them. Instead, he stared at the strange object and struggled to remember what he had intended to create.

“It was supposed to be a quill.”

“That explains the feather.” Professor Wallaby returned the object to its original form with a movement of his wand. His expression became more serious as he placed it in front of Daryan. “Do you understand where your concentration failed?”

Daryan looked at the spoon through the silver-handled magnifying glass Geoffrey had given him. Magical traces showed that the transformation had weakened near the center, but the information did not explain why the result frightened him.

“I forgot what it was supposed to become.”

Professor Wallaby lowered his voice. “Are you feeling unwell?”

“I’m tired.”

“Then slow down. Fatigue causes mistakes, and forcing magic through an exhausted mind will not correct them.”

Daryan repeated the transformation successfully, but his satisfaction disappeared before the lesson ended.

Flying became more difficult too.

Professor Yelton had adjusted the western course for the warmer wind moving around Mount Greylock. The students were practicing controlled descents through a series of floating rings when Daryan followed Harper around the first tower.

He entered the turn correctly and shifted his weight before the broom changed direction. The stone tower passed along his left side.

Then the world flickered.

The tower became a broken column beneath the black sky of the other realm. Its upper section had collapsed across the course, filling the space ahead with shattered stone and black vines. Snakes hung from the exposed beams, and dark mist poured from the empty windows. Above everything, the immense blue rift stretched across the darkness, its light drawn into long streams that appeared to be pulled toward some unreachable point beyond the mountains.

The cabinet stood upon a fragment of floating floor directly in Daryan’s path.

He pulled sharply on the broom.

The image vanished.

Daryan climbed too quickly and missed the next ring. His broom tilted beneath him as the warmer current caught its bristles. He corrected his balance before the handle rolled, but the movement carried him dangerously close to the upper boundary.

Professor Yelton’s whistle sounded.

The descent charm attached to Daryan’s robes warmed. His broom slowed and guided him toward the nearest landing area without waiting for his instructions.

Daryan touched down beside the first tower. His legs trembled when he dismounted.

Professor Yelton landed moments later. “Are you injured?”

“No, Professor.”

“What caused you to leave the course?”

Daryan looked toward the empty air where the ruined tower had appeared. He remembered believing something blocked him, but the object itself had already disappeared from his thoughts.

“I thought there was something ahead.”

“Another student?”

“I don’t know.”

Professor Yelton studied him. “You will remain on the ground for the rest of the lesson.”

“I can continue.”

“That was not a request.” Yelton removed the descent clasp from Daryan’s robes and checked its enchantment. “Sit inside the observation shelter. If you become dizzy, experience blurred vision, or remember what you saw, tell me immediately.”

Daryan carried his broom toward the shelter. The bench inside offered a clear view of the course, but watching the others fly made his disappointment worse. Harper completed the turn he had abandoned and continued through the rings without losing speed.

She joined him after the lesson while the others returned their brooms.

“What happened up there?”

Daryan rubbed his hands together, although the shelter was warm. “I thought something was blocking the course.”

“What?”

“I can’t remember.”

Harper sat beside him. “You’ve been forgetting things a lot lately.”

“I’m tired.”

“So you keep saying.”

Daryan turned toward her. Concern filled her face rather than accusation, but the attention made him feel exposed.

“I made one bad turn.”

“You don’t pull away from empty air for no reason.”

Professor Yelton called for Harper to return her broom. She stood but paused at the entrance to the shelter.

“You should tell someone if it happens again.”

Daryan promised that he would. By the time they reached the castle, he could not remember enough about the incident to decide what he was supposed to report.

One afternoon in early March, Daryan passed through the gallery of former headmasters alone. He carried three books against his chest and kept his attention upon the staircase ahead.

“Daryan,” James called from the founders’ portrait. “You walked past without saying hello.”

Daryan stopped and turned back. Isolt and James stood together inside the painting. Neither wore the welcoming expression they usually offered him.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t see you.”

Isolt moved closer to the frame. “You appear exhausted.”

“I’ve been studying.”

“Have your assignments increased so dramatically since Christmas?” James asked.

“Not really. I’m trying to stay ahead.”

Isolt studied him with patient concern. “There is a difference between useful effort and hiding behind a book.”

Daryan shifted the volumes in his arms. “I’m not hiding.”

“Then perhaps you should explain what has frightened you.”

The question brought a flash of black fluid moving down a wall. A snake twisted around an empty portrait frame, and dark mist spread across the corridor ceiling.

The image vanished before Daryan understood it.

“Nothing has frightened me,” he said. “I’m only tired.”

James exchanged a glance with Isolt. “An exhausted mind cannot hold everything placed within it.”

“I know. I’ll go to bed earlier.”

Isolt did not look convinced, but she allowed him to leave. Daryan felt their attention following him until he turned the corner.

He began dreading sleep without understanding why.

His mind could not preserve the dreams, but his body remembered them. Uneasiness tightened inside his chest whenever he changed into his pajamas, and he began reading beneath the blankets until his eyes refused to remain open.

The late nights made the exhaustion worse. Daryan spent most of his free time inside the Horned Serpent common room. He attended classes and meals but stopped joining his friends outside. He declined invitations to watch Quodpot, visit the magical creature enclosures with Parker, or use the Flying course when Professor Yelton made it available.

Books became a convenient barrier. As long as parchment and ink remained in front of him, anyone looking his way assumed he was working.

His friends attempted to respect his need to study. Their patience lasted less than a week.

On a Saturday afternoon, Geoffrey stood beside Daryan’s chair while Harper and Parker waited near the common-room entrance. Theo and Ivan occupied the opposite side of the table, and Natalia sat near the fire with her book open across her knees.

“We’re going to the Flying grounds,” Geoffrey said. “Professor Yelton gave Harper permission to use the lower practice course.”

Daryan kept his attention upon the Magical History book in his lap. “I have work to finish.”

“You finished that essay yesterday.”

“I want to revise it.”

Theo glanced at the parchment beside Daryan. “You already revised it this morning.”

Daryan tightened his fingers around the edge of the book. “It still isn’t ready.”

Harper crossed the common room and stopped beside Geoffrey. “You haven’t flown outside class since we returned.”

“I don’t feel like flying today.”

Harper’s expression changed. She understood how unusual the admission was, but she did not challenge it.

Natalia closed her own book. “You have been looking at the same page for almost an hour.”

Daryan looked toward her. “How would you know?”

“Because the illustration has been complaining that you refuse to turn it.”

A painted witch near the bottom of Daryan’s page folded her arms and nodded in agreement.

Geoffrey lowered his voice. “We’re not trying to bother you. We want you to come with us.”

“I said I have work.”

“What work?” Geoffrey asked.

“Would everyone stop watching everything I do?” Daryan demanded.

The common room became quiet around them.

Daryan looked from Geoffrey to Theo, Ivan, Harper, Parker, and Natalia. Surprise filled their faces. None of them had accused him of anything. They had invited him to fly.

Guilt arrived almost as quickly as the anger.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean that.”

Geoffrey remained beside his chair. “Then tell us what’s happening.”

“Nothing is happening.” Daryan closed the Magical History book. The painted witch shouted an objection before disappearing between the pages. “I’m tired, and everyone keeps asking me questions.”

“We’re asking because we’re worried,” Theo said.

“I don’t need you to be.”

The anger returned with such force that Daryan stood before he understood what he intended to do. It pressed behind his eyes and tightened his throat. For one frightening moment, his friends seemed less like people trying to help and more like walls closing around him.

The feeling did not belong there.

Daryan gathered his parchment and books. “I need to be alone.”

He carried everything toward the dormitory stairs without waiting for an answer. Geoffrey called his name, but Daryan continued upward.

The door closed behind him. He placed his books upon the desk and pressed both hands against its surface while his breathing settled. He wanted to return downstairs and apologize properly, but shame kept him in the bedroom.

Below, Natalia watched the closed stairway.

“That did not sound like Daryan,” she said.

Geoffrey remained standing beside the empty chair. “I know.”

The dreams became longer.

Sometimes Daryan wandered through the forest as snow-covered trees changed into blackened trunks. On other nights, he walked through familiar corridors while clean walls flickered into their decaying reflections. The waking flashes and sleeping visions began resembling one another so closely that he could not tell where one ended and the other began.

The cabinet remained stable through every change.

The man’s voice returned from beyond it.

Daryan stood inside the ruined portrait gallery. Empty frames hung crookedly upon walls covered with black fluid. Snakes moved along the floor and through the rafters, their scales whispering beneath the man’s words.

“They built walls around your mind,” the man said.

Daryan turned toward the cabinet. Its doors stood several inches apart, but darkness concealed whoever waited beyond them.

“They were protecting me.”

“From what you can see.”

The corridor flickered into its ordinary form. The portraits returned, although every former headmaster faced away from Daryan.

“You possess the ability to look beyond this world,” the man continued. “They fear what you might discover.”

Daryan remembered Natalia’s comment about people with mismatched eyes seeing into other worlds. He had never told anyone that the description resembled his own visions.

“I don’t want to see it.”

“You want control.”

The word passed through Daryan more effectively than any promise of power. He was tired of waking afraid. He was tired of losing thoughts, seeing impossible things, and never remembering enough to explain them.

“Can you make it stop?”

“I can teach you to choose when the path opens.”

The cabinet doors widened slightly.

The scene beyond them remained distorted, but Daryan saw the western Flying course beneath the other realm’s black sky. The enormous rift cast layers of blue light across the ruined grounds as its farthest edge continued stretching toward the distance. Riven flew behind Daryan with his wand raised.

“They cannot protect you every time,” the man said.

“I don’t want to hurt him.”

“You want to know that he cannot hurt you.”

Darkness wrapped around Riven’s broom. The handle stopped, leaving him suspended above the ruined grounds. Fear replaced the anger on his face.

Daryan backed away. “Let him go.”

“He would not show you the same mercy.”

“I said let him go.”

Daryan raised his left hand.

Blue-white sparks appeared between his fingertips.

The light startled him more than the man’s voice had. Thin strands of electricity moved across his skin without burning it. They gathered around his palm before leaping toward the cabinet.

The darkness surrounding Riven broke apart. The ruined corridor shook, and the snakes recoiled into the walls.

The man moved away from the opening.

For one moment, Daryan saw part of his outline. He was tall, with one hand resting against the opposite door. Behind him, the immense blue rift crossed the black sky. Its luminous bands narrowed as they were pulled toward the horizon, as if the same distant gravitational force were attempting to drag the entire opening away from the world.

“You carry more power than they understand,” the man whispered.

Daryan awakened with his left hand raised above the blankets.

The blue light had vanished. Warmth remained in his fingertips, but he could not remember why.

By the time Geoffrey opened his curtains the following morning, Daryan had forgotten the dream completely.

Chip became restless at night. The small owl abandoned his perch and moved repeatedly toward Daryan’s bedside table. He scratched at the drawer with his talons, tapped the handle with his beak, and released increasingly agitated chirps whenever Daryan moved him away.

One night, the scraping awakened Daryan shortly after he had finally fallen asleep.

“Stop it,” he muttered.

Chip pecked at the drawer handle.

Daryan climbed from bed and carried the owl back to the bedpost. “There’s nothing in there for you.”

Chip immediately flew over his head and returned to the table.

The drawer remained closed. Daryan could not remember placing anything unusual inside it. His spare quills, folded parchment, and several pieces of schoolwork were the only objects he expected to find.

Chip struck the handle again.

“I said stop!”

Daryan swept one arm toward him.

Chip avoided the movement and flew to the top of Geoffrey’s bedpost. His feathers pressed close to his body as he stared at Daryan.

Geoffrey shifted beneath his blankets but did not awaken.

Daryan stood beside the table with his heart beating too quickly. Chip had trusted him from the day they met in Hushnote. The owl had only been trying to draw his attention toward the drawer.

“I’m sorry,” Daryan whispered.

He retrieved a treat from Chip’s food container and held it out. The owl hesitated before flying to his shoulder.

Daryan stroked the soft feathers along his back. “I’m just tired.”

Chip accepted the treat, but his amber eyes remained fixed upon the drawer.

Daryan returned to bed without opening it. After the dormitory became quiet, warmth spread from the gemstone beneath the brown paper. The silvery web inside it brightened until every branch glowed, and the influence surrounding it expanded through the dormitory walls.

Near the end of March, the strongest dream began.

Daryan stood in the gallery of former headmasters.

At first, the corridor appeared exactly as it should. Enchanted lamps burned with warm golden light, and the polished floor reflected the portraits hanging along both walls. Isolt and James occupied their shared frame near the bend, but their painted figures stood perfectly still with their backs turned toward Daryan.

The corridor flickered.

The golden light became a sickly blue. Black fluid oozed down the walls and filled the lower edges of the empty frames. Long snakes hung from the exposed rafters overhead, while thousands more slithered along the outer edges of the corridor. Dark mist drifted around Daryan’s legs and concealed the floor beyond his feet.

The cabinet stood at the far end.

Its doors remained shut, but the wood trembled beneath repeated blows from the other side.

Daryan attempted to step backward.

His body moved forward.

The corridor changed with each unwilling step. Former headmasters appeared in their portraits and vanished again. Clean stone became cracked and wet. The snakes disappeared during the ordinary flickers, though their slithering continued beneath every version.

Whenever the ruined gallery appeared, the windows revealed a sky consumed by darkness. The massive blue rift extended across it, its layers of sapphire, cobalt, silver-blue, and midnight light stretched toward a distant point beyond the mountains. The rift appeared to be slowly pulled away from the world, but it never escaped the force distorting it.

“Daryan.”

The whisper barely reached him.

He stopped.

The ordinary gallery returned for less than a second. Geoffrey stood several feet behind him, his face pale as he reached toward Daryan’s shoulder. Theo and Ivan remained near the entrance, both shouting words Daryan could not hear.

The image broke apart.

The ruined corridor surrounded him again.

“Come to me.”

The voice slipped through the cabinet doors.

Daryan’s right hand tingled. Warmth moved through his palm and traveled toward his wrist, accompanied by a pressure that urged him forward.

“Daryan.”

Another whisper reached him from behind. It sounded like Geoffrey, but the corridor stretched so far that Daryan could no longer see where his friend had been standing.

“Let me free.”

The cabinet shook.

Daryan fought to turn away. His muscles tightened beneath his robes, but the force controlling him moved his feet one after another. Every step carried him deeper into the mist.

The world flickered.

Daryan saw his own body lying rigidly beneath the dormitory blankets. His right hand was clenched against his chest, and deep blue light escaped between his fingers. Chip circled above the bed before diving toward the closed fist.

Geoffrey gripped Daryan’s shoulders. His mouth formed Daryan’s name, though the voice reached the nightmare only as a distant whisper.

The dormitory vanished.

Daryan stood closer to the cabinet.

“Come to me.”

He dug his heels against the stone floor. Black fluid gathered around his shoes and pulled at them like tar. Snakes slid past his ankles without touching him, all of them moving toward the doors.

“Daryan.”

This whisper carried Theo’s voice.

Daryan looked over his shoulder. The real dormitory returned in scattered flashes. Theo stood beside the bed holding a lamp, while Ivan ran toward the stairs. Chip struck Daryan’s right hand with his beak.

His fingers opened.

The gemstone rested inside his palm, its blackened center filled with a complete web of silver light.

Daryan saw it, but the stone’s influence closed over the recognition before he could understand what he held.

The ruined gallery returned.

He stood only a few steps from the cabinet.

“Let me free.”

Daryan raised his left hand. A weak blue spark appeared between his fingertips, but the darkness surrounding the cabinet smothered it before it could grow.

“No,” he whispered.

His own voice sounded small against the slithering.

The cabinet doors trembled hard enough to rattle the hinges.

The dormitory flickered around him again. Ivan had returned with Sabine, Eruman, Professor Woods, Professor Vale, and Professor Sylveran. Their bodies appeared through the ruined corridor like reflections moving beneath dark water.

Professor Woods leaned over Daryan’s bed while Professor Vale raised a barrier around his right hand. Eruman stood near Daryan’s head, one hand pressed against his chest. Professor Sylveran took position beside the bed with his wand directed toward the gemstone.

Their mouths moved.

Daryan heard only his name.

“Daryan.”

Eruman’s whisper carried more clearly than the others. Warmth pressed briefly against Daryan’s chest before the cabinet pulled him forward again.

“Daryan.”

Professor Sylveran’s voice entered from another direction. The ruined walls flickered into the dormitory, and Daryan saw the professor reaching toward him through the barrier.

“Come to me.”

“Let me free.”

The whispers folded together until Daryan could no longer tell which ones came from his friends and which came from beyond the cabinet.

His right arm lifted.

Daryan attempted to pull it back. His shoulder shook beneath the effort, and his fingers curled as though resisting an invisible command. The dark mist around him tightened, winding along his arm and drawing it toward the doors.

“Daryan.”

“Come to me.”

“Daryan.”

“Let me free.”

The cabinet filled his vision.

Its surface was split by narrow cracks. Black fluid seeped through them and crawled over the wood in branching trails. The symbols carved around the frame shifted whenever Daryan tried to focus upon them.

His fingertips approached the right-hand door.

“No,” Daryan said again, louder this time. “I don’t want to.”

The gemstone warmed inside his real hand.

The pressure seized his entire body.

Daryan’s palm struck the cabinet.

The doors exploded open.

The force threw him backward before he could scream. The corridor shattered around him as though it had been made from glass. Stones, broken portrait frames, snakes, and streams of black fluid rose into the air, every fragment turning slowly within the blast.

Daryan flew through them.

The ceiling vanished above him. One moment he was being hurled along the ruined gallery, and the next he was thrown into the open sky above Ilvermorny. The castle dropped away beneath him as the force carried him higher.

Then everything slowed.

Daryan’s body turned gradually through the air. His robes drifted around him as if he had fallen underwater, and his hair lifted from his forehead. Pieces of the shattered corridor floated nearby. A broken portrait frame rotated inches from his face. Snakes twisted through the air with their pale mouths open, while black droplets hung motionless around them.

The other realm’s sky surrounded him.

Darkness extended in every direction, unbroken by stars or clouds. The enormous rift spread across it like a wound made from living blue light. Its colors changed constantly, passing from pale silver-blue along the edges into cobalt, sapphire, indigo, and shades so dark they nearly disappeared into the blackness. The entire rift was being pulled toward a distant point beyond the world. Its light stretched into narrowing strands, and parts of the opening bent away from Ilvermorny as though caught by a gravitational force powerful enough to drag the sky itself into the distance.

Far below, the cabinet stood within the broken center of Ilvermorny.

Its doors were wide open.

Darkness poured from them.

The shadow did not behave like smoke. It moved as a living flood, spreading through the gallery and forcing itself into every connected corridor. It raced beneath doors, climbed staircases, and flowed through the walls as though stone provided no barrier.

Daryan tried to move his arms.

They barely responded. He remained suspended above the castle while the nightmare unfolded beneath him with unbearable slowness.

Darkness reached the entrance hall.

The golden Gordian Knot disappeared beneath it. The Horned Serpent, Wampus, Thunderbird, and Pukwudgie carvings darkened as the shadow climbed across them. Students attempted to run, but their movements remained slow and helpless. Some reached toward one another before the darkness separated them.

Ghostly screaming rose from the castle.

The voices did not belong to one person. Hundreds of cries overlapped as the shadow flooded classrooms, dormitories, common rooms, and the Great Hall. The screams echoed through towers and courtyards, stretching into a terrible chorus that followed the darkness wherever it moved.

Daryan tried to call to the students below.

His voice would not leave him.

The world flickered again.

For less than a second, he saw the real Horned Serpent dormitory. His body shook beneath the blankets while Professor Woods reinforced a barrier around the bed. Professor Vale pulled against the gemstone with her wand, but it remained fixed inside Daryan’s right hand. Eruman leaned over him, shouting his name. Professor Sylveran stood beside him with both hands around his wand as he directed a stream of protective light toward Daryan’s chest.

Geoffrey, Theo, and Ivan remained beyond the barrier.

Geoffrey’s lips formed Daryan’s name.

The black sky and its immense blue rift swallowed the glimpse of the dormitory.

Below, darkness burst through Ilvermorny’s doors and windows. It poured from the towers in long twisting streams, covering the terraces and falling into the forest like black waterfalls. The glasswing finches attempted to escape, but the shadow reached them. Their transparent feathers darkened, and their small bodies fell soundlessly through the air.

The forest disappeared beneath the spreading flood. Brooklings fled through the meltwater channels until the water turned black around them. Frost elk ran beside the Reflecting River, their silver antlers flashing through the trees before the darkness overtook them.

The screaming continued.

Daryan struggled against whatever held him in the sky. His left fingers twitched. A tiny spark appeared between them and went out.

“Daryan.”

The whisper seemed to come from Eruman, but it was nearly lost beneath the screams.

“Come to me.”

The other voice rose from the cabinet.

“Let me free.”

Darkness spread beyond Mount Greylock.

The mountains vanished beneath it. The shadow crossed roads, towns, forests, and rivers, growing wider as it moved. No-Maj lights failed one after another. Magical protections flared around hidden communities, but the darkness absorbed each barrier without slowing.

Daryan saw Hushnote Quarter.

Music filled its streets for one final moment. The enchanted instruments continued playing while shopkeepers and customers stared upward at the approaching shadow. Then darkness entered through the hidden passages and poured across the cobblestones.

The fiddle fell silent first.

The banjo stopped next. The trumpet’s last note stretched through the Quarter before disappearing. Shop signs went dark, lanterns shattered, and the fountain shaped like a treble clef filled with black fluid.

The shadow continued toward Nashville.

Daryan tried to scream for his parents.

Nothing emerged.

The city appeared beneath him as though the nightmare had pulled it closer. Darkness moved between buildings and swallowed the streets. It entered Printer’s Alley, flooded the deli, and climbed the walls of the apartment building where Daryan had spent his entire childhood.

The living-room windows went black.

Ghostly screaming surrounded him. It rose from Ilvermorny, Hushnote, Nashville, and every place the darkness had touched. The sound pressed into Daryan until he could no longer separate the voices of strangers from those of the people he loved.

He saw Damon inside the apartment, reaching for Aryanna as the walls disappeared around them.

“Mom!”

The shout remained trapped inside him.

The force holding Daryan above the world released.

He fell.

At first, the descent remained slow. Ilvermorny turned beneath him while darkness covered the final visible sections of its towers. High above the castle, the blue rift continued stretching toward the distant gravitational pull, its luminous strands bending and narrowing against the black sky. Daryan stretched both arms outward and tried to summon the blue electricity again.

Only a few weak sparks crossed his left fingertips.

The fall accelerated.

Wind struck his face. His robes snapped against his body, and the floating fragments of the corridor rushed past him. The screaming became louder as the ground rose to meet him.

The real dormitory flickered into view.

Aryanna was not there.

Daryan saw Geoffrey reaching through Professor Woods’s barrier. Theo stood behind him with both hands over his mouth, and Ivan remained near the stairs with tears on his face. Eruman and Sylveran continued fighting whatever moved through Daryan’s body, but their voices reached him only as fractured whispers of his name.

The nightmare returned.

Daryan fell through the upper towers. Darkness poured around him, filling every window and doorway. For one instant, he passed through the gallery of former headmasters and saw Isolt and James reaching toward him from their portrait.

Then he was beneath the castle.

The ground rushed closer.

Daryan searched desperately for his mother. He could no longer see Nashville, the apartment, or any part of the world beyond the darkness. The shadow had consumed everything except the narrow space through which he continued falling and the distant blue rift being dragged across the black sky above him.

He remembered Aryanna standing beside the kitchen counter on the day Eruman first visited. He remembered her watching him depart for Hushnote, embracing him when he returned from Ilvermorny for Christmas, and smiling as she held the wand that had finally chosen her.

The darkness began closing around those memories.

Daryan gathered every bit of love he felt for his mother and forced it into a single thought.

I love you, Mom.

The message tore free.

Silver-blue light burst from Daryan’s chest and raced upward through the falling darkness. It passed through the ruined castle and entered the black sky. For a moment, its light joined the brilliant colors of the massive rift before both were stretched toward the distance.

Daryan did not know whether the message reached her.

The ground struck him.

Pain exploded through his body. The impact drove the air from his lungs and shattered the last fragments of the ruined world around him.

Darkness poured over Daryan before he could move. It covered his legs, chest, and face, smothering the ghostly screams and the fading whispers of his name.

His awareness disappeared beneath it.

 

 

Chapter 18

The Long Way Back

Pain returned before Daryan understood that he was still alive.

He lay facedown upon something cold and unyielding, struggling to breathe after an impact he could feel throughout his entire body. His ribs ached whenever he attempted to draw air into his lungs, while pain spread from his knees through his hips and along the length of his back. Darkness moved over him in heavy waves, pressing against his robes and filling every space around his body.

Daryan remembered falling.

He had been suspended above the ruined version of Ilvermorny while darkness poured through the castle. Students had screamed as it flooded the corridors, crossed the grounds, and spread beyond Mount Greylock. Hushnote Quarter had fallen silent beneath it. Nashville had disappeared next. Daryan had seen his parents reaching for each other inside their apartment before the shadow swallowed them.

Then the force holding him in the sky released.

He remembered gathering everything he felt for Aryanna and forcing it into one final thought before he struck the ground.

I love you, Mom.

Daryan did not know whether the message had reached her.

He pressed both hands against the hidden surface and forced himself onto his knees. Thick banks of black mist twisted around him, rising and collapsing in slow waves. He could not see a sky above him or determine how far the darkness extended. The ground remained concealed beneath the fog, though its surface felt smooth beneath his palms.

Something moved nearby.

The sound began lightly enough that Daryan almost mistook it for mist passing across stone. It grew as he listened, multiplying into the distant slithering of thousands upon thousands of unseen bodies. The movement seemed to encircle him without drawing closer.

“Geoffrey?” Daryan called.

His voice traveled into the mist before returning from every direction.

Geoffrey?

Geoffrey?

Geoffrey?

Hundreds of softer echoes continued long after Daryan stopped speaking.

He pushed himself upright. His legs trembled beneath him, and the pain from the fall remained trapped inside his bones.

“Theo? Ivan?”

The names divided into countless frightened whispers.

Daryan turned slowly. “Where am I?”

Where am I?

Where am I?

Where am I?

The darkness offered no answer.

He began walking because remaining still felt worse. The hidden surface beneath his feet stayed smooth and level, but the fog changed around him with every step. Shapes gathered within it and disappeared before he could identify them. Ilvermorny’s towers rose in the distance, then became enormous trees with twisted branches. Bent rafters appeared overhead before dissolving into the clouds.

The slithering followed him.

Daryan stopped.

The movement stopped too.

“Is someone there?”

A low laugh answered him.

It began somewhere ahead, but the darkness caught the sound and carried it outward. One malicious laugh became hundreds, surrounding Daryan while refusing to reveal the person responsible.

A whisper passed close to his right ear.

“You found my gift.”

The same words drifted from somewhere behind him a moment later. More repetitions followed, each fainter than the one before it.

Daryan spun around. No one stood there.

“What gift?”

His question echoed through the fog. The man laughed again, the sound separating into layered whispers that moved through the mist.

“Did you feel what it shared with you?”

“What?”

Warmth passed through Daryan’s right hand. For a moment, he remembered a package wrapped in brown paper and tied with black string. A dark gemstone rested beneath his fingers, its center crossed by delicate strands of silver light.

The memory disappeared before he could hold it.

“Imagine,” the man whispered from several directions at once.

The fog changed.

Darkness peeled away from Daryan’s feet, revealing polished stone beneath him. Tall pillars rose around an enormous hall, while hundreds of witches, wizards, No-Majs, goblins, Pukwudgies, and magical creatures stood shoulder to shoulder between them.

Every one of them bowed.

Daryan stood upon a raised platform wearing dark blue robes embroidered with moving silver threads. He appeared several years older. His black walnut wand rested inside his right hand, while blue electricity moved lazily around the fingertips of his left.

An older Ivan stood on Daryan’s left. He had grown taller, and a dark green cloak hung from his shoulders. A silver clasp shaped like a star fastened it near his throat. Ivan did not bow. He remained beside Daryan as someone trusted to stand above the crowd with him.

Another figure occupied Daryan’s right.

The man remained half concealed within pale mist. Daryan could make out dark robes, broad shoulders, and one pale hand, but clouds thickened across his face whenever Daryan attempted to see it.

“No one could hurt you,” the man whispered.

The promise repeated in drifting layers until the hall seemed to be speaking with him.

Daryan looked across the bowed crowd. Riven knelt among the Wampus students with his head lowered. Professors Vale, Sylveran, and Yelton stood behind him. Aurors, magical officials, and strangers filled the remainder of the hall.

A terrible satisfaction stirred inside Daryan.

No one would mock his eyes. No one would question whether the Headmaster’s grandson belonged at Ilvermorny. He would never enter another classroom afraid that everyone expected more than he could give.

The feeling frightened him.

“I don’t want this.”

The vision disappeared. Pillars, people, and the raised platform collapsed into black vapor, leaving Daryan alone within the mist.

The man did not answer. His laughter moved through the darkness and faded into the sound of slithering scales.

Daryan resumed walking. He chose one direction and forced himself to follow it, though the fog offered nothing by which he could judge his progress. He might have crossed miles or moved repeatedly around the same invisible circle.

Time passed without shape. He did not become hungry or thirsty, but exhaustion gathered inside him. His legs ached, his throat grew rough from calling for help, and cold vapor clung to his face and robes.

The first familiar voice reached him after an immeasurable period of silence.

“Daryan?”

The name did not arrive once. Millions of Geoffreys whispered it across the darkness, each voice entering a fraction of a second after the last. Some sounded close enough to touch, while others drifted through the mist from impossible distances.

“Geoffrey!”

The echo of Daryan’s shout collided with the layered whispers.

“I don’t know if you can hear me,” Geoffrey continued.

His words repeated and overlapped, making the sentence difficult to follow. Daryan concentrated upon the strongest version of the voice while dozens of softer Geoffreys continued speaking around it.

“Professor Woods says we should keep talking to you, so that’s what I’m going to do.”

Daryan stopped walking.

Professor Woods?

“You’re inside the infirmary,” Geoffrey said.

Inside the infirmary.

The infirmary.

Infirmary.

The last word drifted away through the fog.

Daryan looked down at himself. His robes were damp from the mist. His shoes remained planted upon solid ground, and every muscle hurt from the fall and the distance he had walked.

“I’m not in the infirmary,” he called. “I’m somewhere else.”

Geoffrey continued as though Daryan had not spoken. “You missed Charms this morning. Professor Vale taught us how to reinforce containment boundaries. Theo wrote everything down. Ivan corrected half his notes, so they might even be accurate when you wake up.”

Every sentence produced layers of softer echoes. Some repeated individual words, while others continued the entire thought before dissolving into whispers.

Daryan ran toward the voice.

“Geoffrey, wait!”

The whispers receded no matter how quickly he moved. Geoffrey described the common room, the changing weather, and Chip’s refusal to leave Daryan’s side. His words stretched until the repeated layers tangled together and became impossible to understand.

Then the voice disappeared.

Daryan continued running until pain tightened inside his chest. He stopped and bent forward, struggling to breathe.

“He cannot hear you,” the man whispered.

Cannot hear you.

Hear you.

You.

The final word drifted through the darkness.

Daryan straightened. “What did you do?”

No response came.

The mist gathered before him and changed.

Daryan stood inside the Marsdales’ apartment. Afternoon sunlight entered through the living-room windows, and the smell of tomato sauce drifted from the kitchen. Damon occupied the gray sofa while reading a newspaper, and Aryanna stood near the counter with her wand raised. A wooden spoon floated above a pot, stirring without assistance.

“Mom?”

Aryanna looked toward him and smiled.

Daryan crossed the room, but the distance between them stretched. Every step carried him no closer.

“So much to lose,” the man whispered.

The apartment dissolved before Daryan could reach his mother.

A new room formed around him, quiet and filled with pale mist. Daryan had grown older. His school robes and shirt were gone, leaving his chest bare. Geoffrey stood in front of him, equally changed by the passing years. His shoulders had broadened, and his face had lost some of its childhood softness, but Daryan recognized him immediately.

Older Geoffrey lifted one hand and rested it against Daryan’s cheek.

Daryan felt the touch as though he occupied the older version of himself.

There was no fear or uncertainty in Geoffrey’s expression. He looked at Daryan with a tenderness so open that it made Daryan’s chest ache. Their foreheads touched, and Geoffrey smiled before they kissed.

The moment was gentle. Geoffrey’s hand remained against Daryan’s cheek while Daryan’s left arm circled his waist. Pale mist moved around their shirtless figures, hiding everything beyond them.

Daryan could not look away.

“Everything you desire,” the man whispered.

The mist drew back far enough to reveal Theo, Harper, Parker, Natalia, and Ivan nearby, each older and confident. They laughed together beneath warm sunlight. No one appeared frightened of Daryan, and no one threatened to take Geoffrey away from him.

A pale hand appeared within the mist.

“Take it.”

Take it.

Take it.

The whispers circled Daryan as he moved half a step closer.

The eagerness in the shadowed figure’s posture warned him.

Geoffrey vanished.

The enormous hall returned around Daryan. Ivan remained on his left, but everyone else stood below the raised platform. Geoffrey bowed first. Theo, Harper, Parker, and Natalia lowered their heads beside him. Eruman knelt among the faculty with his silver-threaded hair falling across his face.

“Stop.”

Damon and Aryanna appeared at the front of the crowd.

Daryan’s parents bowed.

“No!”

His shout shattered the hall. Aryanna and Damon remained suspended inside the fog for one moment longer, kneeling with their heads lowered.

“Safe forever,” the man whispered.

“My parents would never bow to me.”

The shadow moved closer.

“Yours to protect.”

“I don’t want them beneath me!”

Daryan swung his left hand through the vision.

Blue sparks burst between his fingers and burned the images away.

The darkness recoiled. The man’s laughter vanished, leaving only the quiet movement of snakes beyond Daryan’s sight.

Familiar voices continued finding him through the fog. Theo read from their textbooks, but his words separated into millions of whispered layers. Different parts of the same passage drifted around Daryan until he had to concentrate upon the strongest voice to understand it.

Ivan described an Astronomy lesson. His normally controlled voice reached Daryan through overlapping echoes, each version promising that the star charts would be waiting when Daryan returned.

Harper reminded him about their next race. Parker described the winged fawn Professor Gardwick had found beside the Reflecting River. Natalia recited the assignments Daryan had missed and remarked that unconsciousness was an unnecessarily dramatic way to avoid Magical History.

Every voice arrived distorted. Words repeated, collided, and drifted into the fog long after the person had stopped speaking.

Daryan answered every one of them. He shouted until his throat burned, but none reacted to his voice.

The shadowed man returned between their visits, although he showed Daryan no more complete futures. Instead, fragments appeared within the mist and vanished almost immediately. Daryan saw his left hand stopping an avalanche, Aryanna and Damon smiling inside a beautiful home, and Geoffrey’s fingers resting within his own. None lasted long enough to become real.

The man whispered brief promises through the darkness.

“No more fear.”

“No more loss.”

“Power without limits.”

Daryan refused to follow them.

The refusals became harder as the darkness continued. He no longer knew how long he had been wandering. Whenever he attempted to rest, snakes slithered close enough for their scales to brush his shoes.

Then Daryan felt a hand touch his forehead.

The sensation was so unexpected that he froze.

The hand was small and warm. Its fingers brushed Daryan’s hair away from his face with careful, repeated movements.

“It’s only a dream,” Theo whispered.

The words reached Daryan in overlapping layers.

Only a dream.

A dream.

Dream.

The strongest version of Theo’s voice seemed to enter through the warmth against Daryan’s forehead, while the others drifted through the darkness.

“You can get out of it,” Theo continued. “You’re better at magic than you think. You’ll figure something out.”

Each sentence repeated in soft, staggered whispers, but the touch allowed Daryan to follow the original voice.

Daryan closed his eyes and leaned into the hand. “Theo, I’m here.”

The fingers continued moving as though Theo could feel something even if he could not hear the words.

“You need to come back,” Theo whispered. His voice trembled, and the trembling followed every distorted repetition. “I need you back in my life. None of us have been the same without you.”

Daryan opened his eyes.

“Ivan goes through the motions,” Theo continued. “He does his assignments, takes notes, and pretends everything is normal. It isn’t. Geoffrey doesn’t even try anymore. He hardly talks unless someone asks him a direct question. He just sits quietly and waits until Professor Woods says he can visit you again.”

The repeated words drifted through the darkness, surrounding Daryan with dozens of frightened versions of Theo.

Pain tightened inside his chest.

“He needs you more than he knows how to say.” Theo paused, and a faint, watery giggle entered his voice. The giggle echoed through the mist before he continued. “I think Geoffrey might have fallen in love with you, so you had better wake up. If you break his heart by staying wherever you are, I will never forgive you.”

Despite the fear surrounding him, Daryan laughed.

The sound echoed through the mist. Hundreds of Daryans laughed with him, but the echoes did not sound frightened this time.

Theo’s fingers brushed his forehead once more before withdrawing.

“Please come back.”

Please come back.

Come back.

Back.

The warmth disappeared as the last whisper drifted away.

Daryan reached through the fog. “Theo!”

Only his echo answered.

The man’s voice slipped past him.

“He will forget.”

A shadow of someone walking away appeared briefly within the mist. Daryan struck at it before it could develop into another vision.

“He won’t.”

The man’s laughter faded into the slithering.

Darkness thickened around Daryan until he could no longer see his hands or robes. Unseen bodies crowded near his legs. A scream rose within the fog, stretching into thousands of terrified echoes.

It took Daryan several seconds to recognize his own voice.

Something pressed against his chest.

The hand was large, heavy, and warm. Its strength held Daryan in place while heat spread through his ribs and slowed the frantic beating of his heart.

“Stay calm, grandson,” Eruman said.

His voice reached Daryan in countless overlapping layers, deeper echoes following beneath quieter whispers. The hand against Daryan’s chest helped him separate the strongest voice from the others.

“There is no reason to scream. You are safe in the infirmary.”

Safe in the infirmary.

The infirmary.

Safe.

The words drifted around him.

Daryan struggled against the pressure. “I’m not in the infirmary!”

Eruman could not hear him.

“You are surrounded by people who love you,” his grandfather continued. Every sentence divided and repeated, filling the fog with hundreds of Erumans speaking at slightly different times. “Whatever you see cannot cross the protections around your body. Concentrate upon my hand. Let its warmth remind you where you truly are.”

Daryan pressed both hands against the one he could not see. Eruman’s palm remained firm against his chest, anchoring him while the fog twisted violently.

“You are not alone,” Eruman said. “You have never been alone.”

The words repeated through the darkness, but the warmth gave them strength rather than confusion.

The darkness attempted to cool Eruman’s hand. Daryan curled around it and held on until the pressure finally lifted away.

He remained kneeling long after the contact ended.

Other professors spoke to him over what might have been hours or days. Professor Woods explained each healing charm before performing it. Her words arrived as layered murmurs filled with repeated medical terms Daryan could not always understand.

Professor Vale asked him to follow her voice. Each instruction drifted through the fog in whispering echoes, while repeated reminders told him that his thoughts belonged to him.

Professor Sylveran instructed Daryan to search for the boundary of whatever held him. His deep voice divided into multiple layers that moved around the darkness.

“There is always an exit,” Sylveran said.

Always an exit.

An exit.

Exit.

“If you cannot see it, identify what the enemy wants you to overlook.”

The cabinet, Daryan thought.

Every vision began or ended with the faint outline of its doors inside the mist.

Professor Wallaby’s voice reached him later through a trail of softer echoes. “Do not demand every result at once, Mr. Marsdale. One change. One intention. Complete that before attempting another.”

Daryan chose light.

He remembered the blue sparks that had appeared when he destroyed the image of his parents bowing. The magic had risen from his left hand without a wand or incantation. He did not understand it, but understanding had never been required for accidental magic.

Daryan lifted his left hand and concentrated.

Nothing happened.

A whisper passed through the darkness.

“Only through me.”

Daryan closed his eyes. “It belongs to me.”

“Prove it.”

The words repeated around him while he concentrated until pain gathered behind his eyes.

A tiny blue spark appeared between his index finger and thumb.

The flash lasted less than a second, but it revealed a section of corridor around him. Black fluid oozed down cracked stone walls. Snakes moved along the floor in a continuous mass, while larger bodies hung from the rafters. Dark mist drifted through empty portrait frames, and the cabinet stood at the far end with its doors barely open.

Above the ruined corridor, sections of the ceiling had collapsed. Through them, Daryan saw the other realm’s empty black sky and the massive rift formed from countless shades of blue. Its light stretched into narrowing streams as an unseen gravitational force pulled it toward the distance.

Darkness returned.

Daryan tried again.

A second spark crawled across his fingertips before fading. The brief light showed the cabinet closer than before. A shadowed figure stood beyond it with one hand curled around the door.

“Come closer.”

Closer.

Closer.

Daryan attempted a third spark.

Pain shot along his left arm, forcing him to lower it. Cold mist wrapped around his wrist and squeezed until his fingers became numb, but he forced light through them again.

When Isolt Sayre’s voice reached him, she did not begin by asking him to wake.

“Have I ever told you how I came to America?” she asked.

The question passed through the darkness in dozens of whispering layers. Daryan sat within the fog and concentrated upon the strongest one.

“I was sixteen when I escaped the woman who had raised me,” Isolt continued. Her voice repeated softly beneath itself. “My aunt believed cruelty was a form of instruction and that fear was the same as respect. When I fled her home, I cut my hair and disguised myself as a No-Maj boy named Elias Story.”

The mist around Daryan softened. He imagined a younger Isolt standing near the sea with short hair and borrowed clothes, watching an enormous wooden ship rise and fall against the waves.

“I boarded the Mayflower in 1620,” Isolt continued. “I did not know what awaited me across the ocean. I only knew what remained behind me, and I understood that staying would eventually destroy every part of myself my aunt had failed to control.”

The ship appeared within the fog. Daryan saw cramped sleeping spaces, wet boards, frightened passengers, and an endless ocean battering the hull. Young Isolt kept to herself, hiding her wand and answering to a name that did not belong to her.

“The voyage was long, crowded, and miserable. I lived among people who would have feared me if they had known what I was. When we reached America, I left the settlement and vanished into the mountains. My shipmates believed Elias Story died during the first winter.”

“Weren’t you afraid?” Daryan asked.

His question echoed outward. Isolt continued as though some part of her had heard him.

“I was more frightened than I had ever been. I was alone in an unfamiliar country, without family or shelter, and I believed there might not be another witch for hundreds of miles. Fear did not mean I had chosen incorrectly. It meant I understood the danger and continued anyway.”

Her words overlapped and repeated, but the story remained clear as long as Daryan concentrated upon the first voice.

The mountains of early America formed around him. He saw young Isolt moving through forests without roads, sleeping beneath branches, and keeping her wand close whenever unfamiliar creatures called from the trees.

“I did not know that Ilvermorny waited for me,” she said. “I did not know I would meet William, rescue Chadwick and Webster, or fall in love with James. I knew only that I had escaped one terrible place and had not yet found the place where I belonged.”

James’s voice joined hers in another series of drifting echoes. “She found it eventually.”

“I built it,” Isolt corrected fondly. “With considerable assistance.”

“Considerable?” James asked, his repeated question following itself through the mist.

“More assistance than I intended to admit while telling the story.”

Daryan smiled into the darkness.

“You cannot always see your destination while escaping,” Isolt told him. Her words divided into countless soft whispers. “Sometimes you must move toward the smallest available light and trust that the rest of the path will reveal itself.”

Smallest available light.

Available light.

Light.

Her story faded, but the mountains remained within Daryan’s thoughts.

He lifted his left hand.

A spark appeared.

This one lasted long enough to illuminate his entire palm.

Daryan continued trying. Every failure left his arm aching, but each success revealed more of the corridor. The cabinet remained fixed between two versions of Ilvermorny. In one, polished walls held the portraits of former headmasters. In the other, black fluid covered the stones while snakes twisted along the edges and hung in writhing coils from the rafters.

The man did not show Daryan another complete future. He no longer needed to. A pale hand occasionally emerged beside the cabinet, while brief fragments of the earlier visions appeared inside the mist. Geoffrey’s smile. Ivan standing at Daryan’s side. Aryanna and Damon safe inside their home. Every fragment vanished before it could become solid.

The man’s whispers became simpler.

“Everything you want.”

“No more fear.”

“Let me free.”

Daryan continued searching for the light.

Then his mother began speaking.

“Daryan, I know you can hear me.”

Her voice was faint at first. The darkness multiplied it until millions of Aryannas whispered his name. Each version arrived with the same trembling breath, and the sound of her crying repeated beneath the words. Some echoes contained quiet sobs, while others carried only the broken way she drew breath before trying again.

Daryan turned toward the strongest voice. “Mom?”

His answer traveled through the mist, but Aryanna continued without reacting.

“I’m at Ilvermorny,” she said. Her voice broke, and the break repeated through the darkness in dozens of painful layers. Daryan heard her take several unsteady breaths before she continued. “Your father is here. Dalon came with us. Geoffrey and the others have scarcely left your room. We are all waiting for you.”

Waiting for you.

For you.

You.

Daryan began walking toward her voice. The darkness offered no path, but he followed the warmth within the distorted words.

A quiet sob moved through the fog.

“I heard you,” Aryanna continued.

The words repeated in millions of whispers, each carrying tears.

Daryan stopped.

“The necklace became warm, and then I heard you tell me that you loved me.” Aryanna cried openly now, though she continued speaking through it. “I felt how frightened you were. I felt how badly you wanted to come home.”

The repeated sobs drifted around Daryan. He wanted to reach her, but every direction looked the same.

The memory returned with painful clarity. Daryan had been falling from the ruined sky while darkness covered the world. The ground had rushed toward him as he gathered every bit of love he felt for Aryanna and forced it outward.

His message had escaped.

“I love you too,” Aryanna said.

Her voice broke completely. For several seconds, only her crying moved through the mist in layered echoes. When she spoke again, the words trembled but remained determined.

“You reached me once, Daryan. You can reach me again.”

Reach me again.

Again.

Again.

A blue spark appeared at the tip of Daryan’s left index finger.

He strengthened it with the memory of Aryanna standing at the stove on the morning he left for Ilvermorny. Another formed when he remembered Damon lifting him during their goodbye at the zeppelin terminal. Geoffrey embracing him inside Ollivanders sent electricity across a third finger.

Blue light spread through his hand.

The darkness attacked.

Cold mist wrapped around his arm and tightened. Pain traveled from Daryan’s fingertips to his shoulder, forcing him to his knees. Snakes moved through the fog, their scales brushing his ankles and coiling around his legs.

The shadowed man appeared near the cabinet.

“Stop fighting.”

The whisper divided and drifted around him.

Daryan planted his right hand against the stone floor.

“Open the way.”

He forced himself onto one knee.

“Wake beside her.”

Aryanna called his name again. The name reached him in countless trembling layers, each one followed by the sound of her crying.

Daryan stood.

Blue electricity moved through his left hand despite the pain shaking his arm. Geoffrey’s voice joined Aryanna’s, repeating Daryan’s name through overlapping whispers. Theo told him they needed him. Ivan promised that the dormitory would remain his room until he returned.

Dalon’s layered voice told Daryan that the object sent to him had been contained and could no longer touch him. Damon described the jacket still waiting beside the apartment door, his words trailing into softer echoes. Eruman assured Daryan that he was safe, while Professor Vale urged him to hold one clear intention. Professor Sylveran reminded him that every prison possessed a boundary.

Every voice sounded distant and distorted. Whispers overlapped, echoes drifted, and sentences broke apart in the fog. Daryan could not always tell who was speaking, but he understood that every voice was calling him in the same direction.

Isolt’s voice rose through them all.

“Move toward the smallest light.”

The words repeated until only light remained.

Daryan lifted his left hand.

Blue lightning erupted from his fingers.

The power tore through his arm with far more force than he expected. Pain ignited beneath his skin and drove along his bones until every joint felt as though it were being forced apart.

Daryan screamed.

The sound erupted from him without restraint. Pain, fear, and every hour of helplessness inside the darkness filled it. His scream struck the ruined corridor and rushed outward, multiplying through the empty portrait frames and broken rafters.

For the first time, it did not remain trapped inside the nightmare.

The infirmary flickered around him.

Daryan saw his unconscious body arch upon the bed as the same scream tore from his throat. Professor Woods caught his shoulders while Professor Vale’s barrier flashed around him. Aryanna lurched toward the bed with tears covering her face, but Professor Sylveran stopped her before she crossed into the uncontrolled magic. Geoffrey, Theo, and Ivan stood near the wall with terror across their faces.

Blue sparks burst from the fingers of Daryan’s physical left hand and struck the inside of Professor Vale’s barrier.

The barrier reacted as though something had struck it from the wrong side of magic itself. Instead of absorbing the sparks, its smooth surface bent outward. Thin fractures appeared across it, glowing blue rather than silver. Professor Vale reinforced the damaged sections, but the unfamiliar power continued crawling through the structure of her spell.

The ruined corridor returned.

Daryan’s scream continued through both worlds as the lightning struck the cabinet and tore darkness from its doors. For a single blinding instant, the entire passage became visible. Black fluid poured from cracks in the walls. Thousands upon thousands of snakes twisted along the floor and hung from the rafters, their bodies creating a living border around the corridor.

Beyond the cabinet stood the ruined version of Ilvermorny. Its broken towers rose beneath a black sky dominated by the immense blue rift. Sapphire, cobalt, indigo, and silver-blue light twisted through the opening before being stretched toward a distant gravitational force.

The shadowed man staggered but remained upright.

The darkness folded over Daryan’s lightning and extinguished it.

Daryan’s scream broke into a strangled gasp. He collapsed hard enough for his knees to strike the stone. Pain continued driving through his left arm, while blood ran from his nose and touched his lips. He pressed his right hand against the floor, but it barely supported his weight.

The man’s whisper surrounded him.

“You need me.”

Daryan attempted to push himself upright. His arm failed, and he fell onto one shoulder.

The mist moved. Geoffrey’s hand appeared within it, reaching for Daryan without revealing the rest of him. The man’s pale hand emerged beside it.

“No more pain.”

Daryan struggled onto his knees.

“Take it.”

For one terrible moment, Daryan considered reaching for Geoffrey’s hand even though he knew it was not real. He wanted the pain to stop. He wanted to awaken and find everyone waiting beside him.

Then the mist behind the offered hands parted just enough for Daryan to see Aryanna and Damon kneeling in the darkness.

He recoiled.

“No.”

The man’s fingers opened wider.

“Everything you love.”

“My parents don’t belong beneath me.”

Daryan raised his left hand.

The shadowed figure withdrew behind the cabinet.

“Foolish child.”

Snakes lunged from the darkness.

They wrapped around Daryan’s legs, waist, and arms. Cold scales slid across his throat. Others twisted between the fingers of his left hand and crushed them together, smothering the last blue sparks.

Daryan screamed again.

This scream contained pure terror. It tore through the corridor as the snakes tightened around his chest and throat. Daryan clawed at them with his right hand, but every body he pulled away was replaced by several more.

The scream crossed the boundary a second time.

Inside the infirmary, Daryan’s body twisted beneath Professor Woods’s hands. His eyes remained closed, but tears escaped beneath his lashes while his mouth opened around the same desperate sound. The healing instruments surrounding the bed began shrieking in response to the sudden rise in his magical energy.

Aryanna cried out his name. Her voice struck the nightmare in hundreds of overlapping layers, each one carrying the same frightened sob.

“Daryan!”

Daryan heard her beneath his own scream.

He thought of Theo’s small hand brushing his forehead. He remembered Geoffrey sitting silently beside his bed and waiting for another chance to visit. He remembered Ivan forcing himself through each day, Eruman pressing a warm hand against his chest, and Isolt crossing an ocean without knowing what waited on the other side.

He thought of his mother crying while she called him home.

Something vast and uncontrollable tore through his left arm.

The force threw the snakes away. Blue electricity branched from Daryan’s fingertips, spread across his palm, and traveled in brilliant lines beneath his skin. Pain burned along his bones without consuming them. Every pulse hammered against his heart while the corridor flickered between its ordinary and ruined forms.

Daryan’s scream rose higher.

The sound was no longer only fear. Anger and desperation entered it as he forced his body upright. He screamed because the magic hurt, because the darkness had trapped him for longer than he could understand, and because he refused to let the man use the people he loved as promises or threats.

The first bolt struck the cabinet.

The second blasted black mist from the rafters.

A third traveled along the walls, burning through the oily fluid and sending thousands of snakes twisting away from the light.

Daryan stepped forward, screaming through every burst.

The ruined corridor became polished Ilvermorny stone. Empty portrait frames filled with former headmasters before becoming vacant again. The rotting rafters transformed into the white ceiling of the infirmary and then shattered back into darkness.

Each time the real room appeared, Daryan heard his own scream coming from the body upon the bed. Blue electricity poured from his physical left hand and struck Professor Vale’s barrier. The blue fractures spread farther through its silver surface with every contact. Vale kept repairing them, but her conventional magic could not understand or redirect the unknown force attacking it.

Aryanna and Damon stood beyond the barrier, both calling Daryan’s name through tears. Geoffrey had one arm around Theo, while Ivan remained frozen beside them with tears running silently down his face.

The man gripped the cabinet from the opposite side.

“You cannot close what has begun.”

His whisper traveled through the corridor as stones broke beneath Daryan’s shoes. Above the ruined world, the immense blue rift continued stretching toward the distant gravitational pull.

The darkness gathered and struck back.

It hit Daryan in the chest and threw him across the corridor. His body rolled over broken stones before colliding with a wall. The impact silenced him for several seconds and left him unable to breathe.

The blue electricity faded.

The cabinet remained open.

Daryan attempted to rise. His arms shook beneath him, and his left hand no longer wanted to close. The effort brought him only as far as his knees before the pain dragged another cry from his throat.

“I can’t,” he gasped.

Aryanna’s voice reached him through the shifting corridor. Her words arrived in overlapping layers, broken by the sobs she could no longer control.

“Yes, you can.”

You can.

Can.

“I know you’re tired,” she said. “I know you’re frightened.”

Her words multiplied and drifted, but Daryan followed the voice beneath them.

“You do not have to find the entire way at once. Just keep coming toward me.”

The cabinet doors began widening.

Black mist poured through them and spread across the stones. Snakes followed, slithering around Daryan in tightening circles.

“Mom!”

This time, her name escaped the nightmare.

Daryan’s physical body shouted it inside the infirmary with enough force to make Aryanna stagger. Professor Vale’s damaged barrier flared as blue sparks burst around the bed.

“I’m here!” Aryanna cried through her tears. “I’m right here!”

Her voice reached the darkness as countless whispering echoes.

Here.

Right here.

Daryan forced one foot beneath himself.

The man whispered from beyond the cabinet.

“Let her go.”

Daryan placed his right hand against the wall and pulled himself upright.

“No more suffering.”

His left arm hung uselessly at his side.

“Rest.”

For one moment, Daryan nearly obeyed.

Then Geoffrey called his name.

The single call separated into thousands of frightened whispers. Theo followed him. Ivan, Harper, Parker, Natalia, Damon, Dalon, Eruman, and the professors joined them. Their voices came from different places and in countless drifting layers, but every one urged Daryan toward the same destination.

Home.

Daryan raised his left hand higher.

Pain blurred his vision. His lungs could not draw enough air, and the blue energy broke apart before it reached his fingers.

He tried again.

A few sparks appeared and vanished.

The cabinet doors opened farther.

Daryan screamed in frustration and terror as he forced the magic through his damaged arm. The scream entered the real infirmary with him. It shook the glass containers upon Professor Woods’s shelves and caused the portrait of Isolt and James to tremble against the wall.

Blue electricity appeared between Daryan’s fingers.

It was not enough.

Darkness crossed half the corridor.

Daryan screamed again. His voice broke beneath the strain, but the sound continued as a rough, desperate cry. He remembered Geoffrey promising to remain beside him. He remembered Damon guiding his hands through his first attempts at preparing food inside the deli. He remembered Dalon teaching him about Aurors, Eruman embracing him after their first day in Hushnote, and Chip pressing his small body against Daryan’s neck.

The light strengthened.

Theo’s careful friendship gave it warmth. Ivan’s steady loyalty gave it shape. Harper’s laughter in the air, Parker’s gentleness, Natalia’s unexpected kindness, and the voices of everyone waiting beyond the darkness gathered around Daryan until he no longer stood alone.

The man’s shadow moved forward.

“Mine.”

Daryan’s fear became fury.

He drew one final breath and screamed with everything remaining inside him.

The scream tore through the ruined corridor, crossed the connection, and erupted from his unconscious body in the infirmary. It was the same cry in both worlds, filled with pain, terror, rage, and the desperate need to return to the people calling him.

The uncontrollable power buried somewhere inside him answered.

Lightning exploded from Daryan’s left hand with a sound like the sky tearing apart.

The cabinet doors slammed backward. Blue energy crossed the space between the two cabinets and struck the shadowed man in the chest. For an instant, the mist withdrew from his face, but the light was too bright for Daryan to see more than a narrow jaw and eyes filled with furious hunger.

The figure vanished inside a storm of black vapor.

Daryan thrust his hand forward again.

The final blast filled both worlds.

Reality flickered violently around him. The ruined corridor appeared with its snakes, black fluid, and broken portraits. A bright infirmary replaced it before darkness ripped through the walls again. The ceiling vanished, revealing the black sky and its massive blue rift, then became white plaster crossed by lightning. Infirmary beds appeared and vanished. Figures surrounding Daryan changed into snakes hanging from the rafters and then became people again.

Daryan continued screaming while the worlds struggled around him.

His physical body rose from the infirmary bed. His left arm extended toward Professor Vale’s barrier, and blue electricity erupted from his fingers with the same force he had released inside the nightmare.

The unknown power struck the barrier.

For one fraction of a second, Professor Vale’s silver shield held. Blue fractures raced across its surface, branching through every layer of the charm until the entire barrier resembled glass filled with lightning.

Then it shattered.

The sound cracked through the infirmary. Thousands of silver fragments burst away from Daryan’s bed before dissolving into sparks. Professor Vale was thrown backward, and Professor Sylveran caught her with one arm while raising his wand with the other. Eruman moved in front of Professor Woods, and Dalon shielded Geoffrey, Theo, and Ivan near the door.

The blue force did not continue toward them like an ordinary attack. Once freed from the barrier, the lightning curved away from every person in the room. It raced across the ceiling, wrapped around the bedposts, and illuminated the walls in brilliant silver-blue before gathering once more around Daryan’s outstretched left hand.

Daryan saw Isolt and James standing inside a portrait upon the infirmary wall. Their painted figures disappeared into empty shadows, returned, and finally settled into place.

The cabinet fractured down the center.

Blue light poured through every crack.

The darkness broke.

Daryan heard his mother speaking with Isolt. Their voices still reached him through several drifting layers, but the echoes were beginning to fade. Aryanna’s quiet crying remained beneath every word.

“He has never stopped fighting,” Isolt said.

Never stopped fighting.

Fighting.

James’s voice followed hers. “We will keep an eye on him. Whenever you and his friends cannot be here, we will remain.”

We will remain.

Remain.

The real world struck Daryan all at once.

His eyes opened while the scream continued pouring from him.

He was sitting upright in the infirmary bed with his left arm outstretched. The final strands of blue lightning moved between his fingertips and across the ceiling, illuminating the room in silver-blue. Fragments of Professor Vale’s shattered barrier continued dissolving around him.

Daryan’s scream finally broke.

It collapsed into a hoarse, painful gasp as the lightning contracted into a single point above his palm and disappeared.

Silence filled the room.

Daryan remained sitting upright, unable to lower his arm. His breath came in shallow gasps, and tears covered his face. Sweat soaked his hair and nightclothes. His throat felt torn apart by screams he had not known anyone else could hear.

For several seconds, the infirmary continued flickering. Black fluid covered the walls and vanished. Snakes twisted along the ceiling before becoming cracks in the plaster. Through the windows, the afternoon sky briefly became absolute darkness crossed by the enormous blue rift before returning to ordinary sunlight.

At last, the real room remained.

Everyone had retreated several feet from his bed.

Geoffrey stared at Daryan’s outstretched hand. His face was pale, and tears had dried across his cheeks.

“Awesome,” he muttered.

Professor Woods looked sharply at him.

“I mean terrifying,” Geoffrey corrected without taking his eyes from Daryan. “Mostly terrifying.”

Daryan’s arm dropped. The strength holding him upright vanished, and he nearly collapsed sideways before Professor Woods caught his shoulders.

Aryanna stood beside Damon near the wall behind Daryan’s bed. She was not looking at the fading magic. Her attention remained fixed upon something above his head, and tears streamed freely down her face.

Daryan followed her gaze.

The portrait of Isolt Sayre and James Steward hung there.

It had been removed from the gallery of former headmasters and placed inside a broad frame within the infirmary. Isolt stood near its painted edge with one hand over her heart, while James remained beside her holding his stonemason’s hammer. Both watched Daryan with open relief.

“You heard us,” Isolt said.

Daryan tried to answer. His damaged throat produced only a rough whisper.

Aryanna looked at him.

For one suspended moment, she appeared unable to move. Her mouth opened, but a sob escaped before any words could follow. Then she crossed the room as quickly as Professor Woods’s instruments allowed.

She reached the bed, cupped Daryan’s face between both hands, and searched his eyes as though she needed to make certain he was truly looking at her.

“You found me,” she whispered.

The words broke beneath another sob.

Daryan leaned into her touch. “I heard you.”

Aryanna pulled him against her.

She cried openly as she wrapped both arms around him. Her entire body shook, and Daryan felt her tears against the side of his face. She pressed one hand protectively against the back of his head while the other held him around the shoulders, gripping him as though she feared the darkness might reclaim him if she loosened her arms.

“You came back,” she sobbed into his hair. “You came back to me.”

Daryan held her as tightly as his weakened arms allowed. Every part of his body hurt, and the embrace pressed against muscles that had not moved in far too long, but he did not want her to release him. Her warmth, the trembling pressure of her hands, and the familiar smell of her hair assured him that the infirmary was real.

“I tried to find you,” he whispered.

“I know.” Aryanna cried harder and kissed the side of his head. “I heard you trying.”

Damon reached them a moment later. His eyes were wet as he bent over the bed and gathered both Aryanna and Daryan into his arms. His hands trembled so severely that Daryan felt the movement through his robes.

“Hi, Dad,” Daryan managed.

The words scraped painfully through his throat.

Damon pressed his cheek against the top of Daryan’s head. “Hi, son.”

Chip launched himself from a nearby perch and landed on Daryan’s shoulder. The little owl chirped so loudly that his entire body shook before pushing his head beneath Daryan’s chin.

Daryan stroked the gray feathers with an unsteady hand. “You knew about it. I’m sorry I didn’t listen.”

Chip nipped his finger and pressed closer.

Dalon lowered his wand and looked toward the three boys near the door. Geoffrey had already moved forward, but Professor Woods’s expression stopped him before he reached the bed.

“Give him a few minutes,” Dalon said gently. He placed one hand on Geoffrey’s shoulder and motioned for Theo and Ivan to follow. “He has only just returned to his body. Let Professor Woods make certain everything is where it belongs.”

Geoffrey hesitated. His eyes remained fixed on Daryan.

“I’m here,” Daryan whispered.

The tension in Geoffrey’s face eased slightly. “You had better stay that way.”

“I will.”

Dalon guided Geoffrey, Theo, and Ivan from the private room. Theo looked back twice before the door closed, while Ivan raised one hand in a small gesture that carried more feeling than any words he might have chosen.

Professor Woods immediately began examining Daryan. Aryanna reluctantly loosened her embrace, though she kept one hand wrapped around his. Woods supported his back while lowering him against the pillows, then checked his breathing, pulse, eyes, and the movement of his fingers. Several enchanted instruments hovered around the bed, their needles jumping wildly before gradually settling.

She directed a narrow beam of light toward Daryan’s throat. “You have strained your voice severely. You will speak quietly and only when necessary.”

“I didn’t know I was screaming here.”

“You were,” Aryanna said. Fresh tears filled her eyes. “We could hear you.”

Professor Vale approached once Woods permitted it. She appeared unharmed by the destruction of her barrier, although several fading silver sparks remained caught in her braids.

“Can you feel both hands?” she asked.

Daryan flexed his fingers. His right hand felt weak but normal. Pain traveled through his left from the tips of his fingers to his shoulder.

“My left one hurts.”

Professor Woods moved her wand along the arm. Pale light passed through his skin, revealing branching blue traces around the bones before they slowly faded.

“No burns,” she murmured. “No fractures. The magical channels are severely strained.”

Daryan looked toward Aryanna. She remained beside the bed with one hand resting against his leg, unwilling to move farther away than necessary.

“How long was I gone?”

No one answered immediately.

Warm afternoon light entered through the infirmary windows. The forest beyond them had begun turning green, although patches of snow had covered the grounds the last time Daryan remembered looking outside.

Professor Woods lowered her wand. “You were unconscious for two weeks.”

Daryan stared at her.

The millions of distorted voices returned to his memory. Geoffrey, Theo, Ivan, Harper, Parker, Natalia, his family, professors, Isolt, and James had not spoken during a single night. Their visits had been separated by days Daryan could not measure.

“Two weeks?”

Aryanna took his right hand. “We came as soon as Eruman contacted us.”

Her voice trembled, and tears moved down her face again.

“You and Dad were here the entire time?”

“As much as Professor Woods allowed,” Damon answered. His voice remained unsteady despite his attempt to control it. “Someone has been beside you every moment.”

Daryan looked at the portrait behind him. “You moved.”

Isolt glanced at James before answering. “We requested a temporary change of scenery.”

“The former headmasters’ gallery survived without us,” James added. “Your grandfather arranged for our frame to be brought here after the first night.”

“When your friends needed to attend lessons or sleep, we kept watch,” Isolt said. “We spoke whenever the room became quiet.”

“I heard your story.”

Isolt’s painted expression softened. “Then I am glad I chose one with a hopeful conclusion.”

Professor Woods made Daryan drink water and a restorative potion before permitting anyone to ask another question. The potion tasted faintly of mint and iron. Warmth spread through his throat, chest, and stomach, but it could not remove the deep exhaustion left by his struggle in the darkness.

Daryan did not want to close his eyes. Every blink lasted too long, and each brief absence of light threatened to become the corridor again. Aryanna appeared to understand. She held his hand and continued speaking quietly while Professor Woods completed the examination.

Once Daryan’s breathing steadied, Dalon returned with Geoffrey, Theo, and Ivan. The boys entered more carefully than usual, as though a loud movement might cause Daryan to disappear again.

Geoffrey reached the bed first. He wrapped both arms around Daryan’s shoulders, taking care not to disturb his left arm.

“You frightened me,” Geoffrey whispered.

“I frightened myself.”

Theo embraced him next. The moment his hand brushed Daryan’s hair, Daryan remembered the warmth moving across his forehead inside the darkness.

“You touched my head,” Daryan said.

Theo pulled back. “You felt that?”

“You told me it was only a dream.”

Theo’s eyes filled with tears. “I didn’t know whether you could hear me.”

“I heard the other part too.”

Theo stared at him.

Daryan glanced toward Geoffrey, who looked between them suspiciously.

“What other part?” Geoffrey asked.

Theo’s face became red. “Nothing important.”

“You said I had better not break his heart.”

Geoffrey stopped breathing for a moment.

Ivan looked toward Theo. “You told an unconscious person that Geoffrey was in love with him?”

“I was trying to give Daryan a reason to wake up,” Theo protested.

Geoffrey’s face had become nearly as red as Theo’s. He looked at Daryan, opened his mouth, and apparently forgot what he intended to say.

Daryan rescued him. “It worked.”

Theo released a nervous laugh. “Then I regret nothing.”

Ivan waited until the others moved before resting a hand against Daryan’s shoulder. “I recorded everything you missed.”

“I heard you talking about the meteor shower.”

Ivan’s composure briefly gave way to a smile. “Then I will not have to convince you it was worth seeing.”

Daryan looked among them. “Were you here every day?”

“Whenever they allowed us inside,” Geoffrey answered. His embarrassment faded beneath something quieter. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

Daryan held out his right hand.

Geoffrey took it without hesitation.

Professor Woods allowed the boys to remain only a short time before ordering them to let Daryan rest. Geoffrey resisted leaving until Daryan promised that he would still be there when his friend returned.

Harper, Parker, and Natalia came the following afternoon, once Daryan had eaten several small meals and managed to sit without Professor Woods supporting his back. Harper hugged him with enough force to earn a warning from the healer, while Parker placed a carefully organized stack of Magical Creatures notes on the bedside table.

Natalia stood near the foot of the bed with her arms folded. Her usual collection of Horned Serpent girls waited outside the private room, visible through the open door.

“You look dreadful,” she informed Daryan.

Harper stared at her. “Natalia.”

“He has been unconscious for two weeks. Telling him he looks refreshed would be insulting.”

Daryan managed a tired smile. “It’s nice to see you too.”

Natalia’s expression softened. She approached and touched his uninjured hand. “It is good to see you awake.”

They told him about the classes he had missed without forcing him to discuss what had happened. Harper described a Quodpot practice held during unusually strong winds, Parker explained that the winged fawn near the river had recovered enough to return to the forest, and Natalia listed the assignments most likely to require additional help. Harper briefly mentioned that William still owed her several replies, but Natalia said he remained buried in his examination preparation. The conversation soon returned to the Quodpot diagrams he had already sent.

After the students left, Daryan rested until evening. Eruman returned with Dalon, Professor Vale, and Professor Sylveran once Professor Woods decided he possessed enough strength for a limited conversation. Damon and Aryanna remained beside him, while Chip slept against the pillow near Daryan’s shoulder.

A crystal container rested upon a table across the room. Several transparent barriers surrounded it, each marked with moving silver symbols. Beneath them lay the gray-blue gemstone.

Daryan’s stomach tightened when he saw it.

“That’s what he sent me.”

Dalon watched him carefully. “What do you remember?”

“It arrived beside my bed. There was brown paper around it and a tag with my name.” Daryan pressed his right hand against his temple as the hidden memories returned in broken pieces. “I touched it. Geoffrey came into the room, and then I forgot the package existed.”

“You continued forgetting it,” Eruman said. “Even when Chip attempted to draw your attention toward the drawer.”

Daryan stroked the owl beside him. “The man kept calling it his gift. He never said what it was. He only asked whether I felt the power inside it.”

Professor Vale looked toward the warded container. “He wanted you interested in the sensation without allowing you to understand its source.”

“He showed me things,” Daryan continued. “Different futures. People bowing. My friends standing beside me. He offered me everything I wanted if I agreed to open the connection.”

Dalon’s expression hardened. “Did he give you a name?”

“No. I never saw his face clearly.”

Professor Woods stepped closer. “You are not recounting two weeks of magical imprisonment tonight.”

“We do not need him to describe everything aloud,” Eruman assured her. He looked toward Daryan. “If you agree, I can copy the relevant memories into a Pensieve. You will not need to force yourself through a complete explanation, and nothing will be removed from your mind.”

Daryan looked at the warded gemstone. It remained dull, but the sight of it brought back the shadowed hand reaching through the cabinet.

“Take them.”

Eruman retrieved a shallow stone basin filled with silver liquid. He began with Daryan’s memory of the package and moved carefully forward. Each strand emerged from Daryan’s temple as a thread of silver light, carrying the dreams the object had hidden, the ruined reflections of Ilvermorny, and the shadowed man beyond the cabinet.

The final memories required more effort. Daryan’s breathing became uneven as the darkness returned in fragments. He remembered the snakes, the black fluid, the offered hand, and the pain of forcing the blue power through his left arm. Aryanna kept her fingers wrapped around his right hand while Professor Woods watched the instruments beside the bed.

When Eruman drew the final strand free, the Pensieve shone with overlapping silver currents.

Daryan rested against the pillows, exhausted but still awake.

“I thought I was really there,” he admitted. “I could walk, speak, and feel the fog. I heard my voice echoing. I didn’t know all of you were standing around my bed.”

Professor Vale regarded him thoughtfully. “The connection did not merely trap your consciousness. It constructed a complete magical environment around it.”

“What about the other Ilvermorny?”

“We will need to examine the memories before reaching any conclusions,” Dalon said. “If the environment remained consistent, it may represent more than a nightmare.”

Aryanna asked to enter the Pensieve with Eruman and Dalon. Daryan hesitated, but she had spent two weeks speaking into a darkness she could not see. He gave his permission.

Professor Sylveran accompanied them to examine the ruined environment and the cabinet’s position. Professor Vale remained in the infirmary with the gemstone, while Damon stayed beside Daryan.

“I could have gone with them,” Damon said after the others entered the consultation room. “I decided I would rather remain here.”

Daryan leaned his head against his father’s shoulder. “I’m glad.”

Damon placed an arm around him. Neither spoke for several minutes.

Geoffrey returned before Aryanna and the others emerged. He brought only one book, apparently obeying Professor Woods’s newly established limits. The sight of him returned Daryan’s thoughts to the vision hidden among the memories inside the Pensieve.

He could not stop remembering his older self standing shirtless within the mist while an equally grown Geoffrey held his face and kissed him. Eruman, Aryanna, Dalon, and Professor Sylveran would see it alongside everything else.

Geoffrey noticed him staring. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“That didn’t look like nothing.”

“I’m tired.”

Geoffrey accepted the explanation, though not completely. He placed the book upon the bedside table and drew his chair closer.

Daryan held out his hand again.

Geoffrey took it.

Aryanna returned nearly an hour later. Her eyes were red, and her face had lost its color. Eruman, Dalon, and Professor Sylveran followed her into the infirmary with troubled expressions.

Daryan’s embarrassment sharpened the moment he saw them. They had witnessed everything, including the gentle kiss the man had used to entice him. Daryan waited for Aryanna to ask about it or for Dalon to glance toward Geoffrey. He worried most about what Eruman might think, although the Headmaster’s expression revealed nothing beyond concern for what Daryan had endured.

No one mentioned the kiss.

Aryanna crossed the room and sat beside him, taking his hand without hesitation. Eruman and Dalon focused upon the cabinet, the ruined castle, and the terrible blue rift above the other world. Whether they understood that the vision had been private or recognized it as another attempt to manipulate him, they allowed it to remain unspoken.

Relief loosened some of the tension inside Daryan, although warmth still spread across his face whenever he remembered what they had seen.

“I’m sorry you had to see any of it,” he told Aryanna.

She covered his hand with hers. Tears filled her eyes again. “I’m sorry you had to survive it.”

Eruman and Professor Sylveran approached the bed while Dalon remained near the warded gemstone.

“The place beyond the cabinet behaved consistently through every memory,” Dalon explained. “The ruined towers, the cabinet’s position, and the movement of the rift remained the same.”

“You think it was real,” Damon said.

“I think Daryan saw another place,” Dalon replied. “Possibly another reality. Something is pulling the rift and its magical energy toward a point beyond what he could see.”

Daryan remembered Natalia telling him that people with eyes like his were sometimes believed to see into different worlds. He had not accepted the idea then, and he still did not know whether his eyes had anything to do with what the object showed him.

He kept that possibility to himself.

“What about the lightning?” Daryan asked.

Professor Vale regarded his left hand with open concern. “It was not a conventional spell. There was no wand, incantation, or established structure guiding it. My barrier was designed to absorb, redirect, or contain recognizable forms of magic. Your power did none of those things. It entered the structure of the charm and broke it apart from within.”

“Was it accidental magic?”

“Accidental magic is normally an uncontrolled response to emotion,” Eruman said. “What you produced began that way, but you summoned it repeatedly, strengthened it with chosen memories, and directed it toward specific targets.”

“I barely controlled it.”

“You controlled enough to break a connection that several experienced witches and wizards could not reach from this side,” Professor Sylveran said. “That does not mean you should attempt it again.”

Daryan was relieved. He could still feel the power’s path through his left arm, as though the bones remembered being filled with lightning.

Eruman secured the Pensieve memories and promised that no one would view them without Daryan’s permission. Dalon returned his attention to the gemstone, while Professor Vale began preparing another series of protective charms around Daryan’s bed.

Professor Woods ended the conversation when Daryan struggled to keep his eyes open. She ordered everyone except his parents to leave the private room. Even Geoffrey obeyed after receiving permission to return the following morning.

The portrait of Isolt and James remained on the wall behind Daryan.

“We meant what we said,” Isolt assured him. “We will stay as long as you need us.”

Chip settled beside Daryan’s pillow. Aryanna occupied the chair on his left, while Damon sat on the right and took his hand.

Daryan stared at the ceiling. He was frightened to close his eyes. The clean white plaster occasionally threatened to become ruined rafters crowded with snakes, and every shadow near the floor resembled mist creeping from beneath a cabinet.

Aryanna recognized his fear.

“I’ll keep talking,” she said. Her voice trembled again, but she tightened her hand around his. “You don’t have to sleep until you’re ready.”

Damon took Daryan’s other hand. “And when you do, we’ll still be here.”

Isolt and James settled together inside their portrait. Chip pressed his small body against Daryan’s neck while Aryanna began describing everything she wanted Damon to cook once they returned to Nashville. Damon objected to her combination of choices and offered a different meal, prompting an argument so ordinary that Daryan could almost imagine himself seated at the apartment table.

Their voices remained singular. They did not echo, whisper, or turn cruel inside the darkness.

When Daryan finally closed his eyes, he could still feel his mother holding one hand and his father holding the other. The ruined corridor hovered at the edge of his memory, but its cabinet remained closed, and no slithering voice called him toward it.

Daryan slept with his family beside him while Isolt and James quietly kept the watch they had promised.

 

 

Chapter 19

The Space Between

Professor Woods released Daryan from the infirmary six days after he opened his eyes.

The remaining days of his recovery passed through a quiet succession of restorative potions, ordinary meals, short walks, and examinations that became less complicated each morning. Daryan progressed from crossing the room with someone supporting his arm to walking its entire length without assistance. His legs still weakened if he remained standing too long, and climbing a flight of stairs left him breathing harder than he wanted anyone to notice, but Professor Woods assured him that his strength would return if he allowed his body time to recover.

The cabinet did not drag him back into the same nightmare while he remained in the infirmary. Sleep occasionally carried him through vague stretches of darkness, accompanied by the sensation of falling or the distant echo of screams he could no longer hear clearly. Those impressions faded quickly once he opened his eyes. He remembered enough to know that the nightmare world remained somewhere inside him, but not enough to become trapped there again.

Aryanna and Damon remained at Ilvermorny until Professor Woods confirmed that the immediate danger had passed. Their emergency leave could not last forever, and Damon’s employees had already managed the deli without him for considerably longer than expected. Neither parent wanted to leave, but Daryan understood that their departure meant Professor Woods, Eruman, and Dalon believed he was safe enough to remain at school.

The morning they returned to Nashville, Aryanna stood beside Daryan’s bed and straightened the cranberry trim along his freshly cleaned school robes. She adjusted the same section three times before Daryan gently caught her hands.

“It’s straight, Mom.”

“I know.” Her eyes remained fixed upon the fabric. “I’m checking the stitching.”

“The stitching hasn’t changed since the last time you checked it.”

Aryanna finally looked at him. Worry lingered beneath her smile, but she did not ask whether his head hurt, whether he felt dizzy, or whether he remembered the darkness. They had already discussed each question more than once.

“I suppose I need to let you leave this room before your friends decide I’m keeping you prisoner,” she said.

“They would probably organize a rescue.”

“Theo would make a schedule,” Damon said from near the foot of the bed. “Ivan would study the floor plan, Harper would ignore the plan completely, and Geoffrey would attempt to break through the door with his shoulder.”

“Parker would remember to bring the key,” Daryan added.

Aryanna laughed softly before drawing him into her arms. Daryan held her tightly, feeling the golden Gordian Knot resting against her chest. The necklace had awakened with sudden warmth and brilliant blue light on the night Daryan collapsed. Through the knot, Aryanna had heard his desperate cry of love from somewhere she could not reach, and she had known immediately that something terrible had happened to her son.

“I’ll write,” Daryan promised.

“You had better.”

“I’ll use the speaking glass too.”

“And if anything feels wrong, you tell your professors immediately. You do not wait until you have gathered enough evidence to present a complete argument.”

“I know.”

Aryanna pulled back far enough to study his mismatched eyes. “I mean it, Daryan.”

“I know, Mom. I promise.”

Damon embraced him next. He did not lift Daryan from the floor as he usually did, and that careful restraint revealed more concern than another warning could have. Instead, he rested one hand against the back of Daryan’s head and held him until the tightness in his breathing eased.

“Your mother and I can return within minutes,” Damon reminded him. “Both emergency Portkeys are registered with the school.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“That wasn’t the part I needed to hear.”

Daryan managed a smile. “I’ll call if I’m not.”

“Better.” Damon pulled away and placed both hands on Daryan’s shoulders. “I expect letters about ordinary things too. Tell us what you’re eating, what you’re learning, and whether your friends have managed to keep themselves out of trouble.”

“They’re supposed to be keeping me out of trouble.”

“That arrangement does not inspire confidence.”

Dalon accompanied the family to the private Portkey room near the infirmary. He was remaining at Ilvermorny under MACUSA authority while he investigated the gemstone, its concealment charms, and the unidentified person responsible for sending it into the school. Daryan watched his parents step onto the silver arrival circle and place their hands upon the registered Portkey.

Aryanna looked as though she might abandon the journey at the final second. Damon slipped one arm around her waist, and she leaned against him before the Portkey activated. Silver light rose around them, briefly illuminating the room, and both disappeared with a rush of displaced air.

The empty circle hurt to look at, but Daryan reminded himself that his parents were returning to Nashville rather than being taken away from him. He knew where they were going. He could send Chip with a letter, call through the speaking glass, or ask Eruman to activate an emergency Portkey if he needed them.

Dalon rested a hand on his shoulder. “They’ll probably be waiting beside the speaking glass before we reach the infirmary.”

“Mom will be.”

“Your father will pretend he happened to be sitting nearby.”

Daryan looked up at him. “Are you staying because of me or because of the gemstone?”

“Both.” Dalon did not soften the answer. “It has remained inactive since you woke, but I will not assume that means it is harmless. Until I understand how it entered the school and what it was intended to accomplish, I am remaining close.”

“If it changes again, will you tell me?”

“If there is something you need to know, I will tell you. That does not include every meaningless flicker recorded by one of my instruments.”

“What if it isn’t meaningless?”

“Then I will become extremely interested.”

They returned to the infirmary, where Professor Woods waited with Daryan’s final morning potion. He swallowed the restorative mixture while she reviewed the restrictions she had written for his professors. Daryan could attend ordinary lessons, eat in the Great Hall, and move through the castle as long as someone remained with him. Flying, nighttime Astronomy, strenuous practical work, and unsupervised magic were forbidden until Woods decided he had recovered sufficiently.

“You will return here every evening after dinner,” she instructed. “If you experience dizziness, confusion, unusual warmth, unexplained sounds, missing memories, or anything resembling the connection, you will come immediately.”

“Yes, Professor.”

“If your friends tell you that you look tired, you will listen to them.”

Daryan glanced at Geoffrey, Theo, and Ivan, who were waiting near the infirmary doors with his books. “They always think I look tired.”

“Then you will spend a great deal of time resting.”

Professor Woods handed the written restrictions to Theo rather than Daryan. Theo accepted the parchment with the solemn responsibility of someone receiving legal authority over another person’s schedule.

“That seems unfair,” Daryan said.

“It seems efficient,” Woods replied.

Before leaving, Daryan stopped beside the painting hanging upon the wall behind his former bed. Isolt Sayre and James Steward stood near the window of their painted cottage, watching him prepare to depart. Their portrait belonged in the corridor outside the Great Hall, among the former headmasters of Ilvermorny, but they had requested that it be moved temporarily so they could keep watch while Daryan remained unconscious.

“I suppose you’ll be returning to the gallery now,” Daryan said.

“Soon,” Isolt answered. Her gaze moved toward the Pukwudgie girl sleeping in the next occupied bed. The young student rested beneath a green blanket while several small bouquets crowded the table beside her. “We have decided to remain until the infirmary is empty.”

James closed the book he had been reading. “It would feel discourteous to leave one student alone merely because another has recovered.”

The Pukwudgie girl’s eyes remained closed, but the corners of her mouth moved slightly as though she had heard them.

“Once she has returned to her dormitory, Professor Woods will have us moved back to the gallery,” Isolt explained. “We belong among the other headmasters, but there are occasions when a portrait is more useful elsewhere.”

Daryan raised one hand toward them. “Thank you for staying with me.”

Isolt placed her palm against the painted glass. “You found your way back. We merely helped you remember that people were waiting.”

Daryan left before the conversation could return to everything that had happened while he remained unconscious. Geoffrey walked at his right side, Theo kept close to his left with Woods’s restrictions tucked securely inside his Charms book, and Ivan followed with the rest of Daryan’s belongings.

Students slowed when Daryan passed them in the corridor. Some offered quiet greetings, while others watched from doorways or whispered after he moved beyond them. The school had received no complete explanation for his absence. Everyone knew that he had spent two weeks unconscious in the infirmary, but rumors had filled the silence surrounding the cause. Daryan heard fragments involving cursed books, an improperly brewed potion, a venomous creature, and a forbidden spell supposedly discovered beneath the castle.

Geoffrey noticed every stare. His shoulders tightened whenever someone whispered too loudly, but he remained beside Daryan rather than confronting anyone. Theo continued explaining the changes made to their weekly schedule, while Ivan shifted the stack of books against his chest and suggested a shorter route through a portrait passage near the eastern gallery.

Daryan’s legs began aching before they reached the first staircase. He slowed without announcing it, and all three boys immediately matched his pace. Geoffrey moved half a step closer whenever the floor became uneven. Theo paused beside every landing under the pretense of checking Professor Woods’s instructions. Ivan led them through corridors that avoided the steepest stairs without mentioning why he had chosen them.

No one offered to carry Daryan.

No one allowed him to walk alone.

The familiar stone serpent guarding the entrance to their common room lifted its carved head when they approached. Its crystal eyes moved across Daryan before the wall behind it opened. Warm air carried the scents of parchment, polished wood, and the fire burning beneath the carved mantel.

Conversation softened when Daryan entered. Several Horned Serpents greeted him, but no one surrounded him or demanded an explanation. Sabine rose from one of the study tables and pointed toward a deeply cushioned chair near the windows.

“That chair is yours until Professor Woods removes the restrictions,” she told him. “It has a warming charm, a footrest, and enough space beside it for the books you are not supposed to carry.”

Daryan examined the chair. A folded blue blanket rested across one arm, and a small table had been positioned within easy reach. “Did Geoffrey ask you to do this?”

“He attempted to move the chair by himself. I intervened before he dragged it down the stairs.”

“I had it under control,” Geoffrey protested.

“You had it wedged between two suits of armor.”

“The corridor narrowed.”

Sabine returned her attention to Daryan. “If you study past the hour established by Professor Woods, I will remove every book within your reach.”

“You can’t remove the entire common-room library.”

“I have access to seventh-year magic. Do not challenge me.”

Daryan smiled and lowered himself into the chair. His body appreciated the support more than his pride wanted to admit. Geoffrey placed a cup of water on the small table, Theo arranged the books Daryan would need for the following morning, and Ivan carried the remaining supplies upstairs.

They performed each task without discussing who had assigned it.

Chip flew through one of the enchanted windows shortly afterward. The tiny gray owl circled the common room with a shrill cry before diving toward Daryan. He landed on the chair, scrambled up Daryan’s arm, and pressed his entire body against the side of the boy’s neck.

“I missed you too,” Daryan murmured.

Chip answered with a series of indignant chirps before pecking lightly at his ear.

“He visited the infirmary every day,” Theo said. “Professor Woods eventually stopped trying to remove him.”

“He bit Serenity,” Geoffrey added.

Chip twisted his head toward him and hooted defensively.

“Only once,” Ivan said as he returned. “Serenity attempted to move him away from Daryan’s pillow. The response was predictable.”

Daryan rubbed the owl’s chest until his feathers lowered. Having Chip on his shoulder made the common room feel properly familiar again.

Harper and Parker arrived after afternoon lessons ended. Natalia came with them, carrying a book beneath one arm and a small paper bag from the kitchens. None of them asked Daryan to describe what happened or explain how he felt. Harper dropped into a nearby chair and began discussing the mistakes she had noticed during that afternoon’s Quodpot practice, while Parker opened the bag and distributed cranberry biscuits. Natalia settled at the end of the table, quietly moved Daryan’s ink bottle away from the edge, and began working on her Magical History assignment.

Their conversation moved around Daryan without placing him at its center. Harper complained that one of the Chasers had repeatedly broken formation to pursue the Quod. Parker questioned whether the formation had already failed before the player abandoned it, and Natalia observed that Harper had developed strong opinions for someone who was not yet permitted to join the team.

For nearly an hour, Daryan listened, laughed, and occasionally contributed. By the time Professor Woods’s restrictions required him to rest, the common room no longer felt like a place from which he had been absent. His friends had preserved his space without trapping it beneath everything that happened.

That evening, Geoffrey, Theo, and Ivan followed him into the dormitory. His bed had been remade with clean blue blankets, and the silver serpents embroidered across the curtains moved through their endless patterns. Someone had placed the letters from his parents inside the top drawer of his bedside table. His black walnut wand rested in its usual box, while the books and assignments collected during his absence had been arranged neatly across the desk.

Daryan sat on the edge of the mattress. The room looked exactly as it had before the gemstone drew him into darkness, but he remembered another version of it beneath black mist. In that place, the ceiling had disappeared, snakes had moved beyond the furniture, and the cabinet waited where no cabinet existed now.

He looked toward the drawer where the gemstone had hidden.

The drawer remained open and empty.

Geoffrey noticed where he was looking. He crossed the room and closed it without comment.

Theo consulted Professor Woods’s parchment. “You’re supposed to rest for an hour before dinner.”

“I’ve been sitting most of the afternoon.”

“That is not the same as resting.”

“It looked similar.”

“It isn’t.”

Ivan removed his shoes and stretched across his own bed. “Arguing with Theo will require more energy than lying down.”

Daryan reluctantly moved farther onto the mattress. Theo pulled the curtains halfway closed before leaving with Ivan to return several books to the common room.

Geoffrey remained.

He stood near the desk pretending to inspect the labels Theo had attached to the missed assignments. His attention kept drifting toward Daryan, and every time Daryan moved beneath the blankets, Geoffrey looked over as if expecting him to disappear.

Daryan remembered Theo’s voice reaching him through the darkness. The words had arrived in countless overlapping whispers, but their meaning remained clear. Ivan merely went through the motions. Geoffrey had stopped trying and quietly waited for his next opportunity to visit. Theo believed Geoffrey had fallen in love with him.

Beneath that memory lay another one Daryan had tried not to examine too closely. The shadowed figure had shown him an older version of himself standing within pale mist. An older Geoffrey had stood close enough to touch him, and the two had kissed while the false world offered Daryan everything it believed he wanted.

The vision had been created to manipulate him. Daryan understood that. The voice in the darkness had used power, fear, affection, and every person he loved as parts of the same temptation. None of it could be trusted.

That did not prevent warmth from entering his face whenever he remembered the kiss.

Geoffrey turned another piece of parchment without reading it.

Daryan smiled. “So, you love me?”

The parchment slipped from Geoffrey’s hand. He caught it against the side of the desk before it reached the floor and turned slowly. Color rose across his cheeks.

“Don’t you have more important stuff to worry about?”

His voice carried more embarrassment than irritation, and a shy smile appeared despite his attempt to suppress it.

“Probably,” Daryan admitted.

Geoffrey returned the parchment to the desk. “Theo talks too much.”

Daryan noticed that Geoffrey had not denied anything. He considered pointing that out but decided he had already pushed far enough. He did not understand what the false kiss meant, what Geoffrey felt, or whether the warmth inside him belonged to affection, embarrassment, or something he was not ready to name.

Geoffrey came closer and sat against the bedpost. “You should sleep.”

“I’m not tired.”

“You nearly fell asleep while Harper was talking about Quodpot.”

“She talks for a long time.”

“She does.”

Daryan closed his eyes. He did not fall asleep, but resting allowed enough strength to return that Professor Woods permitted him to eat dinner in the Great Hall.

Harper and Parker separated from the others when they reached the house tables. Natalia sat with the Horned Serpents, taking a place across from Ivan. Conversation remained ordinary throughout the meal. Geoffrey objected to the boiled carrots occupying one section of his plate, Theo discussed the reading Professor Tyndale had assigned, and Ivan attempted to determine how many desserts could reasonably be classified as part of a restorative diet.

No one discussed the gemstone, the cabinet, or the infirmary.

When they returned to the dormitory, Daryan expected the other boys to settle into their own beds. Theo and Ivan changed into their nightclothes before closing their curtains, but Geoffrey carried his pillow across the room and placed it beside Daryan’s.

Daryan watched him pull back the blankets. “What are you doing?”

“Going to sleep.”

“In my bed?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Geoffrey climbed onto the mattress and settled along the outside edge. “Mine feels strange.”

“You’ve been sleeping in it since September.”

“It changed while you were gone.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. It feels too wide now.”

Daryan stared at him, but Geoffrey refused to look embarrassed. He adjusted the pillow and drew part of the blanket across himself as if sleeping there required no further explanation.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Daryan said.

“It doesn’t have to.”

Geoffrey turned toward him. “Do you want me to leave?”

Daryan considered the question. The dormitory was quiet beyond the curtains, and the darkness pressing against the blue fabric seemed thicker than it had before. He remembered waking in the nightmare with no one beside him and no way to reach the voices calling from far beyond the mist.

“No,” he said. “You can stay.”

Geoffrey settled closer. Their shoulders touched beneath the blankets, and neither moved away.

Daryan dreamed that night.

He stood beneath the dark sky of the other world while the enormous blue rift stretched above him. The torn light bent toward the distance as though an unseen force were pulling the heavens apart. He fell through black mist while Ilvermorny receded beneath him, its towers leaking darkness from every window and doorway. Thousands of whispering voices called his name, but every time he reached toward them, the mist thickened around his arms.

Something moved below him.

The cabinet doors opened inside the darkness, and a shadowed figure waited beyond them.

Daryan awakened with a sharp breath. His heart hammered against his ribs, and his hands had closed around the blankets. For several seconds, he could still feel himself falling.

Then Geoffrey shifted beside him.

His best friend remained asleep, warm and solid within reach. One of Geoffrey’s hands rested near Daryan’s arm, and his breathing continued in a slow, familiar rhythm.

Daryan looked around the enclosed bed. The silver serpents moved across the blue curtains, moonlight entered through a narrow opening, and Chip slept upon the bedpost with his head tucked beneath one wing. No black mist filled the dormitory. No cabinet waited beyond the curtains.

The dream had frightened him, but it no longer held him after he opened his eyes. Geoffrey’s presence made the difference between memory and reality easy to recognize.

Daryan released the blankets and moved slightly closer to him. The fear faded as quickly as the details of the nightmare, leaving only the dark impression of the rift and the cabinet doors. He listened to Geoffrey breathe until his own heartbeat slowed, then closed his eyes and fell asleep again without waking anyone.

The following morning brought more attention than Daryan wanted. Whispers followed him into the Great Hall, and students from several houses glanced toward him throughout breakfast. His friends created a loose wall around him without appearing to do so. Geoffrey remained on one side, Theo sat on the other, and Ivan occupied the place across from him.

The first openly unpleasant response came after breakfast.

Daryan and the other boys were crossing the western gallery when Riven appeared ahead of them with Ludan and Fred. The three Wampus students had their flying gloves tucked beneath their belts, and Riven carried a polished school broom over one shoulder.

His gaze traveled across Daryan’s face before settling upon the bundle of books in Geoffrey’s arms.

“The mutt finally crawled out of the infirmary,” Riven said.

Geoffrey stopped immediately. Theo’s expression tightened, while Ivan continued looking toward Riven with the patient attention he normally reserved for a problem in one of his textbooks.

Daryan kept walking until Riven stepped farther into the corridor.

“I heard Professor Woods won’t let you near a broom,” Riven continued. “Maybe she realized you never belonged on one.”

Ludan laughed. Fred smiled, although his amusement appeared less certain.

Daryan looked at the broom resting against Riven’s shoulder. “You should enjoy the extra practice while you have it.”

Riven’s smile thinned. “Why? Do you think you’ll catch up?”

“I managed it before.”

“You lost our first race.”

“I landed without falling off.”

Ludan’s laughter stopped.

Riven lowered the broom from his shoulder. “At least I can still fly, Mutt.”

Geoffrey moved forward, but Daryan caught his sleeve.

“Let him go,” Daryan said. “He needs the broom to make himself interesting.”

Ivan released a quiet sound that might have been a laugh. Theo covered his mouth with one hand, while Geoffrey’s anger changed into reluctant amusement.

Riven’s face hardened. “You’ll regret that.”

“Professor Sylveran says threats should be specific enough to evaluate,” Ivan remarked. “That one lacks useful information.”

Fred glanced down the corridor as though expecting the Defense professor to appear merely because someone mentioned him.

Riven shoved the broom back across his shoulder and walked away. Ludan followed immediately, while Fred hesitated before hurrying after them.

Geoffrey watched until all three disappeared. “You should have let me hit him.”

“With what?”

Geoffrey looked at the books in his arms. “I had options.”

Theo took one volume from the top of the stack before Geoffrey could identify it as a weapon. “Professor Woods specifically instructed us to avoid strenuous activity.”

“She instructed Daryan.”

“I believe attacking Riven would become strenuous for everyone.”

The encounter left Daryan more unsettled than he allowed the others to see. Riven’s insults were familiar, but being unable to fly made him feel as though part of his life at Ilvermorny had been taken away. He missed the rush of wind across his face and the freedom of leaving the ground. Professor Woods’s restrictions were temporary, but Riven had found the precise weakness hidden beneath Daryan’s relief at returning.

Geoffrey remained close for the rest of the walk.

Daryan’s return to lessons occurred gradually. Professor Woods allowed him to attend Magical History, Charms theory, and Magical Creatures before restoring the remainder of his morning schedule. He observed practical work from the side of the classroom and performed only enough magic to prove that his wand still responded normally.

The black walnut remained warm and steady in his right hand. It produced no unexplained music, blue lightning, or uncontrollable force resembling what had shattered Professor Vale’s barrier. Daryan found himself watching his left fingers whenever he held his wand, but they remained ordinary.

His professors treated him like a student rather than a patient. Professor Mercer placed a folder containing the essential potion principles introduced during Daryan’s absence on his desk and informed him that the missed recipes remained excused. Professor Wallaby reduced the amount of Transfiguration practice without reducing the precision he expected. Professor Rosloe placed a stool near Daryan’s Herbology station and behaved as though every student received furniture chosen for their recovery needs.

During lunch, the staff permitted students to sit with friends from other houses. Harper and Parker joined the Horned Serpents near the end of the table, allowing the entire group to eat together. Harper brought the Quodpot book she had begun carrying almost everywhere and spent part of the meal examining a diagram while Natalia explained something William once told her about defensive formations.

No one asked Daryan whether he was tired. Theo simply pushed the bread basket closer when Daryan stopped eating, and Parker redirected the conversation whenever a nearby student appeared ready to ask about his absence. Harper promised that she would not defeat Daryan too badly when Professor Woods finally restored his flying privileges.

“I appreciate your generosity,” Daryan said.

“You should. I considered defeating you very badly.”

“You still haven’t joined the team,” Geoffrey reminded her.

“That is a temporary administrative problem.”

“It’s called being a first-year,” Parker said.

Harper turned another page in her book. “Like I said, temporary.”

After lunch, the seven friends claimed a broad table inside the library. Tall windows overlooked the eastern courtyards, and the upper portion of the forest remained visible beyond the walls. The books collected during Daryan’s absence had been arranged in separate stacks covering enchanted furniture, magical pathways, concealment, memory alteration, and Ilvermorny’s architectural history.

Connected Objects and the Spaces Between occupied the center of the table beneath a protective cloth. The librarian had permitted them to examine it under supervision, but the volume could not leave the room again.

Daryan opened it to the handwritten note in the margin.

When the path between two doors is broken, the passage may seek a living mind to complete it.

Professor Vale had dated the ink and examined the remaining magical residue. She could not determine who wrote the words, and whatever magic once clung to them had deteriorated beyond recognition.

“We already know the cabinet got inside Daryan’s mind,” Geoffrey said. “Reading that sentence again won’t tell us where it is.”

Daryan looked at the faded words. The voice in the darkness had possessed a personality separate from the cabinet, but he could not be certain whether it belonged to a real person. The visions, whispers, and promises might have been ways for the enchanted object to manipulate him. The cabinet wanted its doors opened. Everything else could have been created to make him obey.

“It might tell us why it chose me,” Daryan said.

Natalia closed one of the books she had brought. “The note says a living mind, not a particular mind.”

“The cabinet might have noticed him in Hushnote,” Harper suggested. “Daryan heard people discussing it before he entered the school.”

“Or it recognized his magic after it arrived,” Parker said.

Geoffrey’s expression hardened. “It hid the gemstone in his drawer and made him forget seeing it. That sounds like it knew exactly who it wanted.”

Daryan rubbed his left fingertips against his palm. “The cabinet kept telling me to come closer. It wanted me to touch the doors.”

“You never opened them,” Theo said.

“I touched them once.”

“The doors exploded open after that,” Geoffrey reminded him.

Daryan remembered the force throwing him backward and into the dark sky. He remembered Ilvermorny’s doors opening below him as blackness poured from the school and spread across everything he loved.

“Maybe it couldn’t keep them open,” he said. “I fought it before the passage finished.”

Ivan rested his arms upon the table. “Then the cabinet may still be incomplete.”

Theo’s attention sharpened. “I read something about that.”

“About cabinets controlling people?” Geoffrey asked.

“About a damaged cabinet that continued working.”

Theo pushed away from the table and disappeared between the shelves before anyone could question him. Geoffrey leaned back in his chair and watched the aisle through which he had vanished.

“He could have explained before leaving.”

“He expects us to remain here,” Ivan said. “If he explained first, someone might follow and interfere with whatever system he has developed.”

Approximately ten minutes passed before Theo returned carrying a dark green book entitled The Second Wizarding War: A Reconstructed History. Several loose parchment markers protruded from its pages.

“I knew I had seen it,” he said, lowering the book beside Connected Objects and the Spaces Between. “A pair of Vanishing Cabinets was used to enter Hogwarts during the war.”

Harper moved her Quodpot book aside. “Someone invaded a school through furniture?”

“Several people did.”

Theo opened the volume near the middle. One page contained an illustration of two tall cabinets connected by a twisting passage of pale light. The caption identified one as having been concealed within Hogwarts and the other as having remained in a shop called Borgin and Burkes.

“The cabinet at Hogwarts was damaged,” Theo explained. “A student repaired it and used the completed passage to bring Death Eaters into the school without crossing the grounds or triggering the ordinary protections.”

Geoffrey studied the illustration. “That sounds like what our cabinet wants.”

“That isn’t the most important part.” Theo turned several pages and pointed toward a smaller section. “Before the cabinet was repaired, another student was forced inside it. He disappeared.”

Parker leaned over the book. “Where did he go?”

“Between the cabinets.”

Daryan looked up sharply.

Theo read the account more carefully. “The pathway was incomplete, so it couldn’t carry him completely to either end. He remained trapped inside the connection until he escaped by Apparition. He later described hearing sounds from both locations without being able to reach either one.”

The library seemed to grow quieter around them.

Daryan remembered voices reaching him through the darkness. His friends, parents, professors, and family had spoken from the infirmary, but their words arrived distorted into countless whispers and drifting echoes. The sinister voice had come from somewhere else, surrounding him with offers and images intended to break his resistance.

“I heard both sides,” Daryan said.

Geoffrey moved his chair closer. “You heard us and whatever was speaking through the cabinet.”

“The infirmary could have been one end,” Theo said slowly. “The other cabinet might have been the other.”

Ivan opened Connected Objects and the Spaces Between to the handwritten note. “A living mind would not need to become the entire passage. It might only need to hold the damaged sections together long enough for the doors to open.”

“The student at Hogwarts was physically trapped,” Natalia observed. “Daryan’s body never left the infirmary.”

“His mind did,” Parker said.

Daryan examined the illustration. The twisting light between the cabinets bore little resemblance to the darkness that held him, but the idea felt disturbingly familiar. He had never been entirely inside the ruined corridor. Parts of Ilvermorny, the forest, and his bedroom had flickered around him as though several locations were attempting to occupy the same space.

“The cabinet was using my memories to build the passage,” he said. “That must be why my bedroom kept appearing.”

Harper drew one of the older Ilvermorny maps toward her. “It could also explain why the towers never lined up.”

Daryan looked at her. “What do you mean?”

“The views you described don’t exist.” Harper traced the western towers with one finger. “I’ve seen the castle from the Quodpot grounds and the upper training courtyard. You can’t see all three towers from the same side, but they appeared together during some of your flickers.”

“Maybe the cabinet combined different places from my memory,” Daryan said.

Theo nodded. “If its pathway was broken, it might have needed your mind to give the space a recognizable shape.”

Geoffrey looked toward the picture of the two connected cabinets. “If Daryan had opened the doors completely, could someone have come through?”

Theo examined the surrounding text. “That was the purpose of the cabinets at Hogwarts.”

The seven students fell silent.

Daryan remembered the shadowed figure standing beside his older self in the visions. Its face remained impossible to distinguish, but the presence had offered power with an eagerness that became harder to conceal each time Daryan resisted.

“The cabinet showed me a man,” Daryan said. “Maybe he was waiting on the other side.”

“Or the cabinet made him because it needed someone you might listen to,” Natalia said.

Daryan considered that possibility. The figure had never given him a name, and every vision had been constructed from pieces of Daryan’s own desires and fears. Perhaps the cabinet had created the man as another mask.

Parker lowered his voice. “If the doors open, whatever is on the other side could enter our world.”

“That’s why it needs Daryan,” Geoffrey said. “It can reach his mind, but it can’t open itself.”

The conclusion frightened Daryan, but it also provided a boundary. The cabinet had not succeeded. Its doors had opened only briefly before Daryan’s blue force tore through the connection and cast him out. If it still needed him, then the passage remained incomplete.

“We should keep this between us for now,” Harper said.

Theo looked uncertain. “This could help the professors find it.”

“It’s still only a theory,” Harper replied. “If we tell them we think Daryan’s mind was trapped inside a broken cabinet passage, they’ll take these books and stop us from researching.”

“They might also prevent us from doing something foolish,” Ivan pointed out.

“We aren’t searching the castle,” Geoffrey said. “We’re reading.”

Natalia glanced toward the librarian’s desk. “Reading has produced more useful information than wandering through corridors would.”

Daryan looked at the illustration again. He had promised Eruman that he would report any new voice or sensation. Nothing had returned while he was awake. The book did not prove that the cabinet controlled his mind or that something waited beyond its doors. It merely gave them a possibility.

“We keep researching,” Daryan decided. “If we find proof or if I feel the cabinet again, we tell them everything.”

Theo continued looking troubled, but he eventually nodded. “No experiments.”

“No spells,” Ivan added.

“No searching restricted corridors,” Parker said.

Harper folded her arms. “Everyone is looking at me.”

“You are usually the person who turns a research project into an expedition,” Natalia observed.

“I wasn’t going to suggest anything.”

“You were considering it.”

“That isn’t the same.”

The librarian glanced toward them from across the room. Harper lowered her voice before continuing the argument.

They spent the remainder of the afternoon comparing Daryan’s memories with older maps of Ilvermorny. The castle contained hundreds of intentional spatial inconsistencies. Some rooms expanded when large groups entered them, several staircases crossed through areas that should have belonged to other floors, and a music chamber doubled in size whenever an orchestra assembled inside it.

Nothing matched the corridor exactly.

The work left Daryan tired enough that Professor Woods shortened his evening examination and ordered him directly to bed. Geoffrey obeyed the instruction almost as if it had been given to him personally, accompanying Daryan to the dormitory and remaining there until Theo and Ivan arrived.

Daryan expected Geoffrey to bring his pillow across the room again. Instead, he returned to his own bed and fell asleep almost immediately.

Theo changed into his nightclothes, selected a book from his desk, and approached Daryan’s bed. Without asking permission, he pulled back the blankets and began arranging one of the pillows beside Daryan’s.

Daryan watched him. “This again?”

“The arrangement worked last night.”

“What arrangement?”

“You had a bad dream, realized Geoffrey was beside you, and went back to sleep.”

Daryan stared at him. “Geoffrey didn’t wake up.”

“I know. I did.” Theo placed his book on the bedside table. “I heard you breathing strangely, and then your curtains started moving. I was about to get Geoffrey when you became quiet again. I waited until I heard you fall asleep before I went back to sleep.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“I did.” Theo climbed beneath the blankets and settled beside him. “I went to the infirmary during lunch and told Isolt and James. They promised to update Professor Woods and the Headmaster. I told them the dream faded quickly and that you didn’t hear any voices or leave your bed.”

Daryan tried to remember Theo disappearing during lunch. Harper had been showing him one of the formations in her Quodpot book while Parker questioned whether the diagram would work. Theo could have left the table and returned without Daryan noticing.

“You told them without asking me?”

“I promised Professor Woods and the Headmaster that I would report anything unusual.” Theo met his gaze without apologizing. “So did Geoffrey and Ivan. You promised too.”

“It wasn’t the same nightmare.”

“I know. That is exactly what I told them.” Theo pulled the blankets higher around them. “Isolt said the fact that you recognized the dream and returned to sleep was encouraging. She also said we should continue watching without frightening you every time you close your eyes.”

“You’re all doing a poor job of making this look inconspicuous.”

“We aren’t trying to be inconspicuous.”

Daryan wanted to argue, but Theo was already there, and the quiet certainty of his presence made the darkened dormitory easier to face. He turned onto his side and allowed Theo to settle close enough for their arms to touch.

The other boys’ breathing gradually deepened while the moonlight shifted across the curtains. Theo remained awake beside Daryan, his small body warm beneath the shared blankets. Just as Daryan began drifting toward sleep, Theo spoke so softly that his words barely disturbed the silence.

“We’re only doing this because we care about you,” he said. “We want you to stay safe, even if that means making you mad at us.”

Daryan opened his eyes, although he could barely see Theo in the darkness. “I’m not mad.”

“You might be eventually.”

“Probably.”

Theo moved a little closer. “We’ll still do it.”

Daryan smiled faintly and closed his eyes again. “I know.”

He awakened once during the night. Whatever he had dreamed disappeared immediately, leaving only an impression of black mist and something moving beyond its edge. Theo remained asleep beside him with one small hand resting near Daryan’s shoulder.

Daryan moved closer and fell asleep again.

The following day, Professor Woods restored another portion of his schedule. Daryan attended Transfiguration but observed the practical exercise from beside Geoffrey rather than attempting it. Professor Wallaby transformed a row of clay cups into nesting birds and instructed the students to reverse the magic without allowing any of the creatures to escape through the windows.

Harper’s bird climbed into her hair. Geoffrey’s attempted to build a nest inside his school bag, while Natalia completed the reversal with only two tail feathers remaining attached to the cup. Daryan laughed often enough that Professor Wallaby eventually reminded him that observation included taking notes.

That afternoon, the friends returned to their library table. Theo copied the account of the Hogwarts cabinets onto parchment, while Ivan began creating a list of other damaged transportation objects that remained partially active. Natalia searched for descriptions of magic capable of influencing a person through dreams. Parker investigated methods used to seal paired objects, and Harper compared the impossible tower arrangement with exterior views recorded in old Quodpot diagrams.

Geoffrey sat beside Daryan with Connected Objects and the Spaces Between open between them.

“If the cabinet is controlling your mind, why did the gemstone need to be in your drawer?” Geoffrey asked.

“To make the connection stronger.”

“Then it might not be able to reach you now that Dalon has the stone.”

Daryan wanted to believe that. “It hasn’t tried while I’m awake.”

“And it won’t get another chance.”

“You can’t know that.”

“No.” Geoffrey looked at him. “But I can make certain you aren’t alone if it does.”

Daryan felt the same warmth that entered his face whenever he remembered the false kiss. He returned his attention to the book before Geoffrey noticed.

Their research produced questions rather than answers. They did not discover the cabinet’s location or determine who had carried it into the school. They did, however, identify several possibilities. A damaged passage could remain active without opening completely. A paired object could bypass the protections surrounding a school. A living mind might temporarily stabilize a broken route. Most frighteningly, opening the doors could allow whatever waited at the far end to enter Ilvermorny without ever crossing the grounds.

They wrote everything in a single notebook that Theo concealed inside his locked trunk. No one took the material to Eruman or the professors. For now, the corridor, the impossible tower arrangement, and the comparison to Hogwarts remained among the seven friends.

By the third evening, Daryan’s strength had improved enough for him to remain in the common room after dinner. He completed part of his Magical History reading while Geoffrey and Theo argued over the proper order of their notes. Ivan sat near the fire with a book Daryan had never seen before. Its purple cover displayed a black cat clinging to a broomstick as the broom raced through a moonlit sky. The stars moved whenever Ivan tilted the book, and the cat repeatedly climbed toward the handle before sliding back into the bristles.

Professor Woods’s evening examination revealed nothing unusual. Serenity sensed no change in the impression surrounding Daryan’s magic, and Woods allowed him to return to the dormitory without another potion.

Geoffrey fell asleep first. Theo remained awake long enough to arrange the following morning’s supplies before disappearing behind his curtains.

Ivan entered last, still carrying the purple book.

Daryan watched him close the dormitory door and approach the bed. “I suppose it’s your turn.”

Ivan placed the book on Daryan’s bedside table. “Apparently.”

Daryan moved closer to the wall without asking another question. Geoffrey had remained beside him through the first bad dream, and Theo’s quiet presence had carried him through the second night. Ivan had come prepared with a book and the same patient determination. Whatever agreement the boys had reached no longer required an explanation.

Ivan changed into his nightclothes before climbing beneath Daryan’s curtains. He was slightly taller than Daryan and occupied more of the mattress than Theo had. Rather than settle along the outside edge, Ivan sat against the headboard and retrieved the purple book.

Daryan looked at the title.

The Broomstick and the Cat
by Hylan Jennings

The cat on the front cover finally reached the handle, sat proudly for several seconds, and was immediately thrown backward when the broom performed a loop. Daryan turned the book over. A moving photograph of Hylan Jennings occupied most of the back cover. The author wore round spectacles and an enormous pointed hat covered in embroidered stars. He smiled at Daryan, adjusted the hat, and waved before returning to the beginning of the movement.

“You brought a children’s book,” Daryan said.

“It belonged to my father. He used to read it whenever I couldn’t sleep.”

“I can sleep.”

“You objected the first two nights. I assumed a distraction might prevent you from objecting tonight.”

Daryan looked at the moving cat on the cover. “I’ve decided to get used to it.”

“That would be efficient.”

Ivan opened the book and produced his wand. With a small movement, he created a pale blue light above the tip and secured it near the bedpost. The glow remained dim enough that it did not escape beyond the curtains.

“Lie down,” Ivan instructed.

“I am lying down.”

“You are sitting.”

Daryan lowered himself onto the pillow. Ivan shifted beside him, placed one arm around his shoulders, and gently drew him closer.

“Put your head here.”

Daryan rested his head against Ivan’s chest. He could hear the steady beat of the taller boy’s heart beneath his nightshirt. Ivan adjusted the blankets around both of them before holding the book where Daryan could see its moving illustrations.

On the first page, the black cat chased a silver moth into a broom shed and accidentally awakened the oldest broom inside. The broom objected to having its bristles stepped upon and launched through an open window with the terrified cat clinging to its handle.

Ivan began reading in a quiet, even voice. He did not change his tone dramatically for each character, but he gave the cat a slightly offended voice and made the broom sound like an elderly professor who had grown tired of explaining obvious things.

Daryan smiled against Ivan’s chest.

The broom carried the cat over enchanted villages, through a rainstorm made from floating bubbles, and past a flock of geese wearing tiny flying goggles. The illustrations moved across every page. Clouds rolled around the words, the cat’s tail repeatedly struck the broom whenever they argued, and the moon lowered itself to listen when the two finally began becoming friends.

Daryan’s eyes grew heavier as Ivan continued. The darkness beyond the bed curtains remained quiet. No cabinet waited inside it, no voice offered him power, and no snakes moved through the unseen edges of the room.

There was only Ivan’s arm around him, the soft blue light above the bedpost, and the quiet story of a stubborn cat learning to trust the broom carrying him through the night.

Daryan fell asleep before they reached the final page.

 

 

Chapter 20

What He Should Not Know

Daryan awakened to the sensation of an arm wrapped tightly around his middle. For several seconds, he remained still beneath the blue blankets, listening to the quiet Horned Serpent dormitory. The curtains had not begun their morning shrieking, and only a thin line of pale sunlight entered through the gap in the fabric. Somewhere beyond the bed, Chip shifted upon his perch and released a sleepy trill.

Ivan was pressed against Daryan’s back. One arm rested beneath Daryan’s pillow while the other held him firmly around the waist. At some point during the night, the taller boy had pulled him close enough that almost no space remained between them. His breathing warmed the back of Daryan’s neck, slow and even.

The pale blue light Ivan had conjured above the bedpost had extinguished itself. The Broomstick and the Cat rested closed near the edge of the mattress, with one corner trapped beneath the blanket. The black cat on its cover had finally abandoned the broomstick and curled into a sleeping ball among the bristles.

Daryan shifted carefully. Ivan’s arm tightened around him, drawing him closer before Daryan could move more than an inch.

Daryan smiled and tried again. Ivan inhaled sharply, raised his head from the pillow, and blinked at the back of Daryan’s hair.

“Morning,” Daryan whispered.

Ivan looked down at the arm holding him. “You moved.”

“I noticed.”

“I thought you were falling.”

“We’re in bed.”

Ivan lowered his head again without releasing him. “Then the problem has been resolved.”

Daryan turned as far as Ivan’s hold allowed. “Did you finish the book?”

“No. You fell asleep before the cat learned how to steer.”

“Maybe you should have kept reading.”

“I did for several pages. You began snoring.”

“I do not snore.”

“You do when your face is pressed against someone’s chest.”

Daryan attempted to look offended, but Ivan’s expression remained so calm that he began laughing instead. The movement caused Ivan’s arm to tighten once more before he finally released him.

The dormitory curtains began screaming. Geoffrey’s curtains flew open across the room, revealing him with his hair pointing in several directions and a blanket twisted around one leg.

“Why are they louder today?” Geoffrey demanded.

“They aren’t,” Theo answered from behind his own curtains. “You complain about this every morning.”

“They should respond to criticism.”

“They respond by becoming louder.”

Daryan pulled his curtains open. Bright morning light filled the dormitory, forcing both him and Ivan to squint. Geoffrey fought his way free of the blanket while Snowbird watched from the wardrobe with an expression suggesting that waking had been a personal failure.

Theo appeared fully dressed moments later. His hair had been combed, his books were already arranged, and Professor Woods’s folded instructions remained tucked inside his Charms text.

Daryan looked at him suspiciously. “Do you sleep in your uniform?”

“No.”

“Then how are you always dressed first?”

“I get out of bed instead of discussing the curtains.”

Ivan climbed from Daryan’s mattress and retrieved his belongings. He tucked The Broomstick and the Cat beneath one arm before returning to his own bed to dress.

Chip flew from the bedpost and landed on Daryan’s shoulder. The tiny owl pecked lightly at his tangled hair before leaning down to inspect his face.

“I’m fine,” Daryan assured him.

Chip chirped as if reserving judgment.

The four boys dressed and gathered their books before following the other Horned Serpents toward the Great Hall. Daryan still moved more slowly than he had before his collapse, but the journey required less effort than it had the previous morning. He reached the bottom of the final staircase without needing to stop, although Geoffrey remained close enough to catch him if his legs weakened.

Breakfast had already appeared across the house tables. Platters of eggs, toasted bread, fried potatoes, fruit, and sausage occupied the spaces between pitchers of pumpkin juice and milk. Daryan sat beside Geoffrey, while Theo and Ivan took the places across from them.

Natalia arrived moments later with two other Horned Serpent girls. She greeted them before taking the open place beside Ivan. Her gaze moved across Daryan as she poured herself a glass of pumpkin juice.

“You look better this morning.”

Daryan reached for a piece of toast. “The rest must be working.”

Natalia glanced toward Ivan. “That appears to have been very determined rest.”

Ivan continued cutting his eggs. “He slept through most of the night.”

“You were watching?” Daryan asked.

“I was present.”

“That wasn’t my question.”

“It was the relevant answer.”

Geoffrey stared at Ivan over his glass. “Did he have another dream?”

“Not while I was awake.”

Daryan spread preserves across his toast. “I slept fine.”

The answer satisfied no one, but Natalia accepted it with a nod and returned to her breakfast. Her refusal to press the matter made Daryan appreciate her presence even more.

The rotation continued as Daryan settled back into school. Geoffrey shared his bed most often, but Theo and Ivan each returned several times. The boys never formally discussed whose turn it was. One of them simply appeared beside Daryan while the others prepared for sleep.

Daryan joked whenever they climbed beneath the blankets. He accused Geoffrey of becoming too attached, asked Theo whether the arrangement was part of an experiment, and told Ivan that everyone would eventually begin questioning why four boys with separate beds refused to use them properly.

The jokes made the situation easier to accept. Daryan understood that his friends needed reassurance, and he did not want them to feel embarrassed by their fear. Geoffrey still looked toward him whenever the dormitory became too quiet. Theo listened from his own bed for every change in Daryan’s breathing, while Ivan woke at the slightest movement beneath the blankets.

As the nights passed, their presence began comforting Daryan too. He no longer dreaded closing his eyes when Geoffrey’s breathing remained steady beside him. If a dark impression disturbed his sleep, Theo or Ivan was close enough to remind him that he was inside the Horned Serpent dormitory rather than the ruined reflection of Ilvermorny. Most nights passed without any dream he remembered by morning.

Chip approved of the change. He continued sleeping beside Daryan’s pillow, occasionally walking across whichever boy shared the bed to reach a more comfortable position. Geoffrey objected whenever the owl stepped on his stomach, Theo attempted to redirect him with pellets, and Ivan simply moved Chip aside without waking fully.

By the end of the second week, Daryan had regained most of his strength. Professor Woods allowed him to attend his complete daytime schedule, although he remained forbidden from nighttime Astronomy and unsupervised Flying. His restorative potions were reduced to one each morning, and he no longer needed to visit the infirmary every evening.

Professor Vale continued examining the impression left around his mind, but she found no evidence that the connection had renewed. The thin residue surrounding Daryan’s magic remained inactive and appeared to weaken with every examination. Professor Woods refused to declare the danger entirely over, but she no longer watched him as though he might lose consciousness whenever he stood.

Spring continued spreading across the school grounds. The final piles of snow disappeared from the shaded corners of the courtyards, and the trees surrounding Ilvermorny developed pale green leaves. Students began leaving their winter cloaks inside, while warmer afternoons filled the lawns with study groups. The greenhouses opened their upper panes to release scented steam, and creatures emerged throughout the forest after months of hiding beneath snow or sleeping underground.

The attention surrounding Daryan gradually weakened as April progressed. Most students knew only that he had spent two weeks unconscious in the infirmary, and the absence of official details had allowed increasingly unreliable rumors to circulate. One account claimed Daryan had attempted to duel a ghost. Another insisted that he had been bitten by an invisible snake during Herbology. Daryan stopped trying to understand how either story began.

Only his friends, family, and the professors involved knew about the blue force that came from his left hand. As examinations approached, the rest of the school found other subjects to occupy their conversations.

Riven continued insulting Daryan whenever a professor was not close enough to hear, proving that he knew nothing about what happened inside the infirmary. He still called Daryan a mutt and found frequent opportunities to mention that Professor Woods had not restored his unsupervised flying privileges. Daryan disliked the cruelty, but some part of him found it reassuring. Riven remained an ordinary bully who understood nothing about the darkness, the gemstone, or the force that shattered Professor Vale’s barrier.

Daryan concentrated on his lessons, physical recovery, and the investigation he shared with his friends. They no longer needed to repeat what they had learned about broken cabinet passages or the attack on Hogwarts. Those discoveries had given them a working theory. Their attention shifted toward the questions that remained unanswered, particularly how the gemstone reached Daryan, what kind of magic it carried, and whether it had been intended to strengthen the cabinet’s connection.

Their shared research took place inside the library, where Harper and Parker could join them without entering another house’s private space. They examined old delivery routes, school inventory lists, and maps showing storage rooms that had been altered during different periods of Ilvermorny’s construction. Harper identified exterior paths visible from the flying grounds, while Parker searched for records concerning creatures that nested in unused wall passages.

Nothing led them to the cabinet.

Inside the Horned Serpent common room, Daryan, Geoffrey, Theo, Ivan, and Natalia concentrated upon their class assignments and whatever books they were permitted to remove from the library. Natalia made it a point to help Daryan complete the work he missed, refusing to allow him to ignore any subject merely because its professor had excused the assignment.

“You do realize I already have Theo,” Daryan told her one afternoon.

Theo looked up from the other side of the table. “What does that mean?”

“It means I already have someone organizing everything I do.”

Natalia examined the unfinished Transfiguration response in front of Daryan. “Then Theo has been too gentle.”

“I have not,” Theo protested.

“You allowed him to leave this question half answered.”

“He said he needed a break.”

“He wrote one sentence.”

“It was a long sentence,” Daryan said.

Natalia slid the parchment back toward him. “Finish the explanation, and then you can take a break.”

Daryan looked toward Geoffrey for help. His best friend deliberately became interested in a diagram of Ilvermorny’s lower storage passages.

The subject of the gemstone returned during one of their library sessions. Ivan had located a volume cataloging minerals used to extend communication enchantments through magical interference. Most of its examples involved paired mirrors, speaking portraits, or objects separated by protective wards.

“If the stone strengthened the connection,” Ivan said, “its original purpose may have been communication. The concealment and memory effects could have been added later.”

Natalia looked up from the notes she had been organizing. “What did the gemstone look like?”

“Dark gray,” Theo answered. “Almost black in the center. Silvery lines began spreading through it after Daryan escaped.”

“It felt warm,” Daryan added. “Not like something heated by a fire. The warmth came from inside it.”

Natalia set down her quill. “My mother might know something about it.”

Geoffrey leaned closer. “Why would she?”

“My family has been part of the magical community for generations. We keep records concerning magical objects, family transactions, and artifacts our relatives encountered. Some of the older books contain information that isn’t available in the Ilvermorny library.”

Daryan knew that the Banks family possessed an old magical name. Riven frequently spoke as though every pure-blood family shared his beliefs, but Natalia had never insulted No-Maj-born students, treated Damon’s status as a Squib with contempt, or behaved as though family history made her more important than anyone else.

“Would your family let us use the records?” Theo asked.

“No.” Natalia answered without hesitation. “The originals are kept inside a protected family archive, and my mother would never send them to school. She probably won’t copy any passages either.”

Harper frowned. “Then how does that help?”

“My mother has read most of the records. If I describe the gemstone, she may be able to tell me what she remembers.”

“Will she ask why you need to know?” Parker asked.

“Of course.”

Natalia looked toward Daryan. “How much can I tell her?”

Daryan considered the question. Natalia already knew about the gemstone and the cabinet, but he did not want details of his visions traveling through another family. Her mother did not need to know about the ruined Ilvermorny, the shadowed figure, or the blue force that broke him free.

“Tell her a gray gemstone may have been used to strengthen communication between two enchanted objects,” he decided. “You can say it produced silver lines when it became active.”

Natalia nodded. “I’ll write tonight.”

She fulfilled the promise after dinner. Daryan watched her fill several pages of parchment with carefully ordered questions. She included the gemstone’s color, temperature, interior webbing, and possible connection to communication magic. Before folding the letter, she allowed Daryan and Theo to read it so they could ensure she had not revealed anything unintended.

A tawny owl carried the message from the common room before curfew.

The friends returned to their ordinary lessons while they waited for an answer. Harper continued bringing her Quodpot book to lunch, although William had become inconsistent about sending the formations he promised. Natalia mentioned only once that her brother was spending most evenings preparing for his final examinations. Those examinations would affect the careers and advanced training available to him after graduation, which provided a reasonable explanation for his distraction.

As April moved forward, the sleeping arrangement in the boys’ dormitory continued. Daryan’s nightmares did not return, and Professor Vale found no renewed connection. He slept through most nights without moving, but one of the boys still joined him.

The habit became so ordinary that Geoffrey sometimes carried his pillow over while discussing the following day’s assignments. Theo left a second book permanently on Daryan’s table, while Ivan stopped pretending he needed a reason.

Daryan continued teasing them about how eagerly they climbed into his bed. The jokes gradually became less defensive and more affectionate. He had stopped merely accepting their presence and begun expecting it.

Then, without discussion, the rotation ended.

Daryan returned from brushing his teeth one evening and found all three boys settling into their own beds. Geoffrey sat beneath his curtains reading a letter from Emily. Theo had surrounded himself with revision notes, while Ivan remained absorbed in an Astronomy assignment.

Daryan climbed into his own bed and waited.

No one joined him.

He told himself he should be relieved to have the entire mattress again. He could stretch without kicking anyone, turn without disturbing Geoffrey, and keep Chip near his pillow without the owl walking across another person to reach the bedpost.

The empty space beside him still seemed larger than it had before his collapse. Daryan listened to Geoffrey, Theo, and Ivan breathing from their separate beds until exhaustion finally allowed him to sleep.

The second night was not much better.

Nothing frightened him awake, but he remained aware of the unused portion of the mattress. The room felt quieter when no one breathed inside his curtains, and the blankets never became as warm as they had with someone beside him. Daryan considered asking Geoffrey to join him, but the request felt different now that the others no longer believed he required protection.

By the third night, Daryan understood that the arrangement had grown on him no matter how often he joked about everyone wanting to cuddle. Their presence had become part of what made the dormitory feel safe, but safety was no longer the only reason he missed them. He liked falling asleep beside people he trusted. He liked waking with Geoffrey’s shoulder against his, Theo’s hand resting near his arm, or Ivan holding him as though he might fall from the bed.

Daryan remained beneath his blankets for nearly an hour. When sleep refused to come, he grabbed his pillow, opened his curtains, and crossed the dark dormitory.

Ivan’s curtains were partially open.

Daryan slipped through them and climbed onto the mattress.

Ivan shifted beneath the blankets and opened one eye. “I guess we’re still doing this.”

Daryan placed the pillow beside him. “You started it.”

“I did not.”

“You participated.”

“That is not the same thing.”

From the neighboring bed, Theo raised his head. “How are you going to manage summer break when Ivan and I aren’t there?”

Ivan moved closer to the wall to give Daryan room. “Geoffrey can handle summer without the extra help.”

Geoffrey’s voice came from the darkness across the room. “Apparently, I’ve been assigned.”

“You live next door,” Daryan reminded him. “It’s convenient.”

“I’m glad my convenience has been considered.”

Theo lowered his head onto the pillow. “This is becoming a permanent arrangement.”

Daryan settled beside Ivan. “Only until all of you admit that you enjoy cuddling with me.”

Ivan pulled part of the blanket over his head. “Go to sleep.”

Quiet laughter followed from the other beds, easing the last tension from the room. Ivan lowered the blanket several minutes later and allowed Daryan to move close against his side. Daryan fell asleep more quickly than he had during the previous two nights.

The rotation quietly resumed after that. No one pretended Daryan needed constant protection, and Daryan no longer pretended he merely tolerated the company. Sometimes one of the boys joined him. On other nights, he chose a different bed for himself.

A week after Natalia sent her letter, the tawny owl returned during breakfast carrying a rectangular parcel wrapped in green cloth. It descended over the Horned Serpent table, scattering several first-years before landing beside Natalia’s plate.

The parcel carried the dark green seal of the Banks family. Natalia removed it carefully before offering the owl a strip of bacon. The bird accepted the payment, drank from an unattended glass of water, and flew toward the enchanted ceiling.

“What did she send?” Theo asked.

Natalia loosened the cloth enough to reveal a thick bundle of folded parchment. “A letter. Several letters, judging by the weight.”

“Did she include anything from the archive?” Geoffrey asked.

Natalia examined the seal. “If she did, my grandmother will probably arrive before lunch to take it back.”

She did not open the parcel during breakfast. Natalia carried it through the day before bringing it to the Horned Serpent common room that evening. Daryan, Geoffrey, Theo, and Ivan gathered around the table with her after dinner. Other students studied near the fire or moved quietly between the common room and the staircases, but no one paid close attention to the first-years.

Natalia unfolded the green cloth. No ancient book or copied family record waited inside. Her mother had written one long personal letter accompanied by several pages of descriptions and rough illustrations drawn from memory.

Natalia read the first portion aloud.

“Dear Natalia,

“I received your questions concerning the gray gemstone. I will not send records from the family archive, and I will not copy the original entries. Many contain binding language, names, or diagrams that should not leave our protection. I can, however, tell you what I remember from my own studies. You should treat these descriptions as possibilities rather than identifications. Magical gemstones can be altered, combined, or disguised, and color alone proves very little.”

“That does sound like something your mother would write,” Geoffrey said.

“You have never met her.”

“I have learned a great deal from one paragraph.”

Natalia ignored the comment and continued. Her mother began by describing several categories of enchanted stones that did not resemble the gemstone Dalon had secured. Red hearthstones stored warmth and carried warning signals through household protections. Pale witness crystals recorded brief images whenever they detected dangerous magic. Amber messenger stones transferred spoken words between objects carrying matching enchantments.

Natalia moved through the descriptions until she reached the first gray gemstone.

“This one was called an echo stone,” she read. “Dark gray specimens sometimes developed pale veins beneath the surface when activated. Echo stones carried voices, memories, or emotional impressions between paired objects. They were once used by travelers who needed to communicate across distances that blocked ordinary owl post or speaking mirrors.”

Daryan leaned closer to the drawing. The pictured gemstone was almost round, with white lines radiating from its center.

“The stone in my drawer was darker,” he said. “The lines were thinner.”

Theo nodded. “They spread like webbing instead of radiating outward.”

Natalia continued reading.

“Echo stones were not ordinarily capable of controlling a recipient, although prolonged exposure could cause thoughts and memories from one person to become confused with those belonging to another. Most known examples became inactive after one half of the pair was destroyed.”

Geoffrey looked toward Daryan. “That sounds close.”

“Close is not exact,” Natalia reminded him.

The next description concerned a blue communication crystal capable of transmitting thoughts between two people who carried matching fragments. The illustration showed a bright blue stone surrounded by silver rings. A green threshold gem could briefly carry sound across heavily protected boundaries, while a cloudy white memory anchor preserved a person’s final thoughts after death.

Several pages later, Natalia found a second dark gemstone. Her expression became more serious as she read the description.

“Veil stones were used to communicate with places or states of existence that ordinary magical routes could not reach. The surviving descriptions disagree about what those destinations were. Some accounts identify distant physical locations. Others refer to dreams, magical echoes, or worlds existing beside our own.”

Daryan felt a cold movement beneath his skin.

Natalia glanced toward him before continuing.

“When awakened, a veil stone sometimes produced silver lines beneath its surface. It required an enchanted object to provide direction and a receptive living mind to receive what crossed the connection. The stones did not create a doorway by themselves, but certain records suggest they could help locate, stabilize, or communicate through one.”

The group remained quiet after Natalia finished.

Ivan examined the drawing beside the description. The pictured gemstone was dark gray with a pale center, but the exterior markings did not match what Daryan remembered.

“Does she say whether they can alter memories?” he asked.

Natalia read the remaining paragraph. “Not directly. She says confusion, dream intrusion, and lost time were recorded after prolonged contact. She doesn’t know whether those symptoms came from the gemstone or whatever communicated through it.”

Geoffrey looked toward Daryan. “That sounds even closer.”

Daryan remembered the gemstone resting in his palm while the dormitory disappeared from his mind. It had hidden itself behind an ordinary school day and left no memory of the package until his friends discovered the truth.

“It could be a veil stone,” he said.

“Or something enchanted to behave like one,” Theo added. “Natalia’s mother said gemstones can be altered.”

Ivan opened one of the library books they had collected concerning communication gemstones. “If the stone strengthened the connection, the cabinet could have used it to reach Daryan through protections that should have kept it outside his mind.”

They arranged Natalia’s mother’s descriptions beside the library references. The similarities narrowed the possibilities without identifying the exact object. Most examples used matching stones or clearly established pairs. None described a gemstone appearing inside a student’s dormitory and concealing its existence from everyone around it.

The common room had grown quieter while they worked. Several older Horned Serpents remained near the fire or studied at tables closer to the entrance. Students crossed the room occasionally on their way toward the upper-year staircases.

Daryan did not notice William until his voice came from behind Natalia.

“Hello, Sister.”

Natalia looked up. William stood beside the table with several books secured beneath one arm. He still wore his school robes, although he had removed the silver clasp from the collar and loosened the upper fastening. The strain of preparing for his final examinations showed in the faint shadows beneath his eyes.

“What are you studying?” he asked.

Daryan could not stop himself from meeting the older student’s gaze. William’s expression remained neutral, but something changed in his eyes when he saw the green cloth, the library books, and the handwritten gemstone descriptions spread across the table. Daryan could not identify the emotion before William concealed it.

“Transportation and communication objects,” Natalia answered indifferently before returning to her mother’s letter.

William looked toward the green-covered book. “For a first-year project?”

“Independent research.”

His attention moved briefly toward Daryan. “I suppose that explains the company.”

Natalia frowned. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing insulting.” William offered Daryan an apologetic smile. “Serenity has mentioned that the infirmary has been unusually busy this term.”

Daryan recognized the name immediately. “You know her?”

“She’s my girlfriend.”

Warmth entered William’s expression as he spoke about her. For a moment, he looked less distant and formal.

“She plans to enter the Healing Arts after graduation,” William continued. “Most of her free hours are spent training with Professor Woods. She never discusses patients, but she has been exhausted lately. It was not difficult to connect that with the rumors about a first-year remaining unconscious for two weeks.”

“She never told you that was Daryan?” Geoffrey asked.

“No. Serenity would never identify a patient.” William glanced across the common room. “Half the school discussed Daryan’s absence after he returned. I worked it out the same way everyone else did.”

The explanation made sense. Daryan’s absence and recovery were impossible to conceal, even if the truth about the gemstone and the blue force remained limited to those directly involved.

William looked at him again. “How are you feeling?”

“Better. Professor Woods has allowed me to return to all my daytime lessons.”

“I’m glad. Serenity was worried about the student she helped care for, even if she could not tell me who it was.”

Daryan believed that too. Serenity had shown genuine concern during every examination and remained beside him whenever Professor Woods applied a new healing charm.

William glanced toward the letter and books. “Was Professor Vale able to neutralize the gemstone?”

The question passed so smoothly through the conversation that Geoffrey and Theo showed no immediate reaction.

Daryan felt every muscle in his body become still.

Serenity might have mentioned longer hours or an unidentified student, but she would not have revealed the gemstone. Professor Woods had not allowed details of Daryan’s condition to spread beyond his family, friends, and the professors directly involved.

Daryan kept his expression calm. “I think it’s been handled by Headmaster Magreth.”

“Then the Headmaster still has it?”

“It’s secured.”

Daryan had no intention of telling William where the gemstone was being kept or what protections surrounded it.

Something changed in William’s face. The reaction lasted only a moment, but Daryan saw the slight tightening around his mouth and the disappointment that entered his eyes.

William recovered quickly. “That is probably the safest place for it.”

Daryan watched him adjust the books beneath his arm. “How did you know about the stone?”

William looked toward him. “Serenity mentioned that Professor Vale had been called to assist with a contaminated magical object. I assumed it was connected.”

The answer came too quickly.

Natalia appeared not to notice. She turned one of her mother’s drawings so William could see it. “We’re trying to determine whether paired objects can bypass protective enchantments.”

William’s eyes widened.

The reaction vanished almost immediately, replaced by concern as he looked toward his sister.

“Be careful what you study,” he warned her. “Some objects carry curses that do more than injure the person touching them. You could find yourself trapped in something you never intended to become involved with.”

Natalia raised an eyebrow. “We’re reading books, William.”

“Books have caused more trouble than some curses.”

He shifted his attention toward Daryan again. Something uncertain passed through his expression before he looked away.

“I should return to my revision,” William said. “Good night.”

He turned and walked from the table before anyone could respond.

Natalia watched her brother until he reached the staircase leading toward the upper-year dormitories. Her concern lasted only a moment before she returned to the drawing of a bright blue communication gemstone.

“It was more gray than blue,” Theo observed.

Daryan barely heard him.

He watched William cross the common room. Several older students greeted him before he disappeared up the stairs. His pace remained measured, but one hand gripped the books against his side more tightly than before.

Daryan turned back and found Geoffrey staring at him.

“What?” Daryan asked.

“Is something wrong?” Geoffrey countered. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Daryan searched for an answer that would not reveal the suspicion forming inside him. He could not accuse William of delivering the gemstone merely because the older student knew more than he should. Natalia sat only a few feet away, reading her mother’s letter with the quiet satisfaction of someone who had finally contributed something important.

“I think I’m just tired,” Daryan said.

Geoffrey’s stare did not weaken. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” The lie came more easily than Daryan wanted. “I think I overdid it today.”

Theo immediately began gathering the books. “Professor Woods said you need to reduce your workload if the exhaustion returns.”

“I know.”

Natalia folded her mother’s letter. “I’ll copy the most useful descriptions tomorrow. You should rest.”

Daryan helped only enough to avoid making his lie obvious. Natalia secured the original letter inside the green cloth and carried it toward the girls’ staircase. Geoffrey, Theo, and Ivan accompanied Daryan upstairs.

When they entered the dormitory, his attention moved immediately toward the bedside drawer where the gemstone had appeared. The drawer was closed. Daryan crossed the room and opened it.

His day planner rested inside. Nothing else occupied the polished wooden space.

A magical photograph of Aryanna and Damon sat upon the bedside table. Both wore pajamas inside the picture and were settling together on the living-room sofa. Aryanna tucked her feet beneath Damon’s leg while he pulled a blanket across them. They yawned before looking toward the camera and waving at their son.

Daryan remembered the plain brown package that had appeared without owl markings, a delivery label, or any indication that it passed through the school post. Someone had entered the first-year dormitory and left it beside his bed. The gemstone had affected his memory before he could question where it came from.

William Banks belonged to Horned Serpent. As an older student, he could cross the common room and climb the boys’ staircase without attracting attention. No one would question him for carrying books or a small package through his own house.

He possessed the access needed to place the gemstone inside Daryan’s dormitory.

That did not prove he had done it.

Other Horned Serpents possessed the same access. A professor, school worker, Pukwudgie, or enchanted object might have delivered the parcel. William might have learned about the gemstone through a conversation he should not have overheard. His questions could have been careless curiosity rather than guilt.

Daryan could not ignore what he saw in William’s face when he learned the gemstone remained secured. He could not forget the disappointment in his eyes or the warning about becoming trapped inside an object.

William knew more than he should.

Whether that knowledge made him the person who delivered the stone remained uncertain.

Daryan changed into his nightclothes while the other boys prepared for bed. Theo locked their research notebook inside his trunk, and Ivan placed the communication-gemstone references with their other books. Geoffrey remained unusually quiet.

When Daryan climbed beneath his curtains, Geoffrey followed without being invited. He placed his pillow beside Daryan’s and settled beneath the blankets.

Daryan looked at him. “You realize this is proving my point.”

“What point?”

“That you like cuddling.”

Geoffrey turned onto his side. “I noticed you were upset.”

Daryan’s humor disappeared.

He nearly told Geoffrey about William’s question. The words reached the edge of his tongue before Daryan remembered Natalia sitting downstairs with her mother’s letter. She had become their friend. She trusted them enough to ask her family for information, and she had shared everything her mother sent without hesitation.

If William was innocent, Daryan could damage that friendship over a single question and a brief expression. If William was involved, accusing him without evidence might cause him to become more careful or attempt to destroy whatever proof remained.

Daryan decided he would observe him first. He would notice where William went, listen to what he asked, and determine whether his knowledge extended beyond one suspicious conversation.

Geoffrey continued watching him through the dimness. “Are you going to tell me what happened?”

“Not yet.”

The answer caused Geoffrey’s eyebrows to draw together. “So something did happen.”

Daryan regretted the words immediately. “I don’t know. That’s the problem.”

“You said you were only tired.”

“I lied.”

“I know.”

Daryan stared at him. “Then why did you ask?”

“I wanted to see whether you would admit it.”

“That’s annoying.”

“It worked.”

Daryan looked toward the closed curtains. “I need to think before I tell anyone. I might be completely wrong.”

Geoffrey remained quiet for several seconds. Daryan expected him to argue, but his expression gradually softened.

“If you decide you’re in danger, you tell me.”

“I will.”

“And if this has anything to do with the cabinet, the gemstone, or that man you saw, you tell a professor.”

“I promised I would.”

“That isn’t the same as agreeing now.”

Daryan reached beneath the blanket and found Geoffrey’s hand. “I’m not in danger tonight.”

Geoffrey studied him before closing his fingers around Daryan’s. “Fine. But I’m staying here.”

“You were already staying.”

“I’m staying more seriously now.”

Daryan smiled despite the uneasiness in his stomach. Chip flew through the curtains, landed beside his pillow, and immediately stepped across Geoffrey’s shoulder to reach the warmer space between the boys.

Geoffrey moved closer, placing one arm around Daryan while Chip settled against their joined hands. His breathing gradually became steady, but Daryan remained awake.

The ordinary sounds of the dormitory surrounded him. Theo turned a page behind his curtains. Ivan shifted inside his bed, and pipes carried water somewhere within the castle walls. No footsteps approached their room. No package waited in the darkness.

Daryan looked once more toward the closed drawer before turning toward Geoffrey. He allowed the warmth beside him to quiet the questions that could not be answered that night. Eventually, the tension left his body, and he fell asleep with Geoffrey’s arm still resting around him.

 

 

Chapter 21

Some Futures Are Worth Fighting For

Three days passed without William Banks doing anything else that Daryan considered suspicious.

Daryan watched him whenever their paths crossed in the Great Hall or Horned Serpent common room. William attended his lessons, studied for his final examinations, and occasionally spoke with Natalia about messages from their parents. He visited Serenity near the infirmary twice, but there was nothing unusual about seeing his girlfriend. If Daryan had not heard William’s questions about the gemstone, he would have found no reason to notice him at all.

On the fourth night, Daryan awoke without knowing what had disturbed him.

The dormitory remained dark apart from the faint silver light spilling through the window and stretching across the floor. Geoffrey slept beside him with his back turned, one arm buried beneath Daryan’s pillow as though he had claimed it sometime during the night. Across the room, Theo and Ivan were silent beneath their blankets.

Chip stood on his perch near the window with his feathers puffed around him. The little owl appeared to be asleep, although Daryan had learned that it was difficult to tell when Chip’s eyes were completely closed and when they were narrowed into suspicious slits.

Daryan shifted beneath the blanket and listened.

A low voice drifted up the stairs from the common room. The words were too faint for him to understand, but the sound immediately chased away what remained of his sleepiness.

He carefully lifted Geoffrey’s arm from beneath the pillow. Geoffrey mumbled something incomprehensible and rolled onto his stomach, but he did not awaken. Daryan slipped out of bed and crossed the room, avoiding the floorboard near Ivan’s trunk that creaked whenever someone stepped on it.

The voices became clearer when Daryan entered the stairwell.

One of them belonged to William Banks.

Daryan descended slowly, placing each foot near the outer edge of the stone steps. An uneven orange light flickered across the common-room ceiling. He stopped before reaching the bottom and leaned forward until he could see around the corner.

William was crouched in front of the fireplace with his back partly turned toward the stairs. His school robe had been pulled over his pajamas, and his dark hair appeared disheveled. He kept looking over his shoulder as though he expected someone to discover him.

There was no face within the flames. One section of the fire was unnaturally dark, however, and a man’s voice emerged from it with a crackling distortion.

“I did what you told me,” William whispered. “I delivered the stone.”

“Yet you allowed it to be taken.”

William’s worried expression tightened. “I didn’t allow anything. Marsdale collapsed, and the professors found it. The Headmaster has the stone now. I can’t get anywhere near it.”

The flames rose sharply, casting William’s enlarged shadow across the stone floor.

“You assured me the boy would remain connected long enough to open the way.”

“He was unconscious for two weeks,” William argued. “The stone nearly killed him.”

“But it did not complete its purpose.”

William glanced toward the stairwell.

Daryan pulled back and pressed himself against the wall. His heart pounded so violently that he feared William might hear it over the crackling fire. He remained completely still while the shadows moved across the stones around him.

For several seconds, the only sounds were the snapping flames and William’s unsteady breathing.

When Daryan dared to look again, William had turned back toward the fireplace.

“I can’t steal something from the Headmaster’s office,” he said. “There are wards everywhere. Even if I managed to enter, I wouldn’t know where he put it.”

“You will make up for your failure.”

William stared into the darkened flames. “How?”

The fire abruptly collapsed. The unnatural darkness vanished with it, leaving only a few ordinary embers glowing beneath the grate.

William remained crouched there while Daryan retreated upstairs. He moved quickly but carefully, afraid that any hurried step might betray him. When he reached the dormitory, he slipped through the door and crossed to his bed without awakening any of the others.

Geoffrey had turned onto his side while Daryan was gone, leaving just enough room for him to climb beneath the blankets. Daryan eased himself into the open space and pulled the blanket over his shoulder.

Several minutes passed before soft footsteps approached the dormitory.

William’s shadow moved beneath the door and continued farther down the corridor toward the rooms used by the older students.

Geoffrey shifted closer in his sleep and placed an arm around Daryan’s middle. Daryan held that arm against himself while staring through the darkness.

He remained awake until morning.

William looked almost normal at breakfast.

He sat several places away at the Horned Serpent table, talking quietly with another seventh-year while cutting into a stack of blueberry pancakes. His hair had been combed, his robes were properly fastened, and nothing in his expression suggested that he had spent part of the night speaking to a distorted voice inside the common-room fire.

Natalia sat across from her brother, telling him about a letter she had received from their mother.

“She said Father’s office is stacked almost to the ceiling with boxes and old books again,” Natalia explained. “Every time Mother tells him that he should contain his piles, he simply rearranges them into different stacks and calls it good enough.”

William smiled. “He claims he knows where everything is.”

“He couldn’t find his own reading glasses last summer, and they were on top of his head.”

The older student beside William laughed. Natalia rolled her eyes in mock exasperation before giggling with them.

Daryan contributed little to the conversation around him. Geoffrey complained that Daryan had stolen most of the blanket during the night, while Theo attempted to explain that a person could not steal something already covering his own bed. Ivan quietly ate his fried potatoes and watched both of them.

Daryan barely heard any of it.

He kept hearing William admit that he had delivered the gemstone. Whatever doubts remained after William’s questions about Professor Vale had disappeared. He had placed the object within Daryan’s reach, or at least arranged for it to reach him. William knew that the gemstone was connected to the cabinet, and he had expected Daryan’s mind to open a path.

William had nearly killed him.

Daryan looked toward Natalia. She was still smiling as she accused her brother of inheriting their father’s inability to organize anything properly.

He could not tell her without knowing everything.

Before he involved anyone else, Daryan wanted to determine exactly what Serenity had told William. That meant finding a way to slip away from the self-proclaimed honor guard that surrounded him everywhere he went.

Geoffrey nudged his shoulder. “Are you falling asleep?”

“No.”

“You’ve been staring at your plate for five minutes.”

“I was thinking.”

“That’s usually how the trouble starts,” Ivan observed.

Daryan looked across the table. “Thank you for your confidence.”

“You’re welcome.”

Theo glanced toward Daryan’s untouched eggs. “Professor Woods said you need to eat properly while your magical reserves are still recovering.”

Daryan picked up his fork. “I am beginning to miss the infirmary.”

“No, you aren’t,” Geoffrey said.

Daryan forced himself to eat while William and Natalia continued speaking several places away. William never looked toward him.

Daryan found Serenity that afternoon outside the infirmary.

He managed to convince his friends that he needed to speak with her privately, although Geoffrey eyed him suspiciously as he joined Theo and Ivan near a window farther down the corridor. Daryan could tell from his expression that he would be questioned as soon as the conversation ended.

Serenity was carrying a wooden tray filled with clean potion bottles. The tray floated several inches above her open palms as she guided it through the infirmary doors. She returned without it a moment later and smiled when she saw him waiting.

“Daryan,” she greeted him. “Are you feeling all right?”

“Yes. I wanted to ask you something.”

Serenity studied his face before nodding toward an empty alcove farther along the corridor. It provided enough privacy for them to speak without blocking the infirmary entrance.

“What is it?” she asked.

Daryan struggled to phrase his question without revealing the conversation he had overheard. “When I was unconscious, did you ever tell William about the stone?”

Her expression changed immediately. “What stone?”

“The one Professor Vale found in our dormitory.”

“I never told him there was a stone.” Serenity folded her arms and leaned against the wall. “Professor Woods would dismiss me from the infirmary if I discussed a patient’s treatment outside those rooms. William knows that I helped care for a first-year who was unconscious, but I never gave him your name.”

“Did you tell him Professor Vale was involved?”

“No. I didn’t tell him anything about the investigation.” Concern replaced the confusion in her face. “Why are you asking me this?”

Daryan looked down the corridor. A pair of younger students passed the alcove without paying them any attention. Geoffrey remained near the window with Theo and Ivan, but he had stopped pretending not to watch.

“William asked whether Professor Vale neutralized the gemstone,” Daryan admitted. “He also asked whether Headmaster Magreth still had it.”

Serenity straightened. “When did he ask you that?”

“A few nights ago.”

“And what did you tell him?”

“Only that the stone was secured.”

“That doesn’t explain how William knew it existed.”

“He said you mentioned that Professor Vale had been called to assist with a contaminated object.”

Serenity’s face hardened. “I said nothing of the kind.”

“I didn’t think you had.”

“That still does not answer my question.” Serenity lowered her voice. “Why would William ask you about something he shouldn’t know exists?”

“I don’t know yet.”

Serenity watched him with an intensity that made Daryan feel as though she could hear every answer he was withholding.

“If William is involved in something dangerous, you need to tell Professor Sylveran.”

“I don’t know that he is,” Daryan said, although the excuse sounded unconvincing even to him. “I wanted to make sure I hadn’t misunderstood what you told him.”

“You did not misunderstand me. I never told him about the gemstone or Professor Vale.”

Daryan nodded. “Please don’t tell William that I asked.”

The request caused pain to enter Serenity’s expression. “You are asking me to keep something from my boyfriend without explaining why.”

“I know.”

“If William has done something dangerous, protecting him from the consequences will not help him.”

“I’m not trying to protect him.”

“Then who are you protecting?”

Daryan did not answer.

Serenity looked past him toward the three boys waiting near the window. “I will not confront William or repeat something connected to a patient’s care. That does not mean you can ignore this. Speak to Professor Sylveran, Daryan.”

“I will.”

She continued studying him. “Soon.”

“Yes.”

Serenity appeared unconvinced, but she nodded. “Professor Woods expects you tomorrow morning. Do not make her come looking for you.”

“I won’t.”

Daryan thanked her and returned to his friends. He felt guilty for involving Serenity without telling her the truth, but she was William’s girlfriend. Daryan believed Geoffrey, Theo, and Ivan without hesitation. He could not blame Serenity if she offered William that same loyalty.

Geoffrey waited until they had walked beyond the infirmary before speaking.

“What was that about?”

“I’ll tell you tonight.”

“Why not now?”

“Because we’re standing in a corridor.”

Theo looked around them. “There’s no one close enough to hear.”

“I want Natalia to be in the library before we discuss it.”

The three boys stopped walking.

Ivan frowned. “Why does Natalia need to be gone?”

“I’ll explain tonight.”

Geoffrey stared at Daryan long enough to make it clear that the answer had satisfied nothing. “You had better.”

That evening, Daryan waited until Natalia left the common room to return a book to the library. When the door closed behind her, he told the other boys that he needed to speak with them privately and led them upstairs.

Theo closed the dormitory door and drew his wand along the frame while whispering a muffling charm. A thin shimmer crossed the wood before disappearing.

Geoffrey sat in one of the armchairs near the window and glared at Daryan until his cheeks began to feel warm.

“Are you finally ready to tell us what’s going on?” Geoffrey demanded.

“What?” Theo looked between Geoffrey and Daryan. “What happened now?”

“We’ve literally been with him twenty-four hours a day,” Ivan said with a frown.

Theo placed the tips of his fingers against his temples. “I’m getting a migraine. I’ve never had a migraine before.”

“Well?” Geoffrey waited.

“It’s about William,” Daryan admitted. “I know why he’s been acting differently.”

Theo lowered his hands. Ivan’s expression became serious.

Daryan told them about William’s questions in the common room. He repeated exactly what the older student had asked about Professor Vale and whether Eruman still possessed the gemstone. Then he explained how he had awakened during the night and heard William speaking through the fireplace.

He described the darkened flames and the distorted voice. He told them that William admitted delivering the gemstone and had expected it to keep Daryan connected long enough to open a path. He repeated the other man’s accusation that William had failed and his demand that William make up for it.

No one interrupted him.

When Daryan finished, Geoffrey stood at the foot of the bed, struggling to keep his voice controlled despite the muffling charm.

“We agreed you weren’t going to hide dangerous things from us anymore.”

“I only heard him last night.”

“You knew enough to question Serenity without telling us.”

“I needed to know whether William was lying about her.”

“And was he?” Ivan asked.

“Yes. Serenity never mentioned the gemstone, Professor Vale, or the investigation. She didn’t even tell William that I was the student she helped care for.”

Theo moved between Daryan and Geoffrey before the argument could grow louder. “Daryan should have told us before speaking with Serenity, but that doesn’t change what William did. We need to decide what happens next.”

“We tell Headmaster Magreth,” Ivan said. “William admitted that he delivered the stone.”

Daryan shook his head. “Not yet.”

Geoffrey stared at him. “Did you forget what happened the last time we waited?”

“If Eruman confronts William, whoever spoke through the fire will know we’re suspicious. They could move the cabinet or disappear before anyone finds them.”

“They nearly killed you,” Geoffrey reminded him.

“And now they think I don’t know William was involved. That might be the only advantage we have.”

Theo rubbed his thumb across the corner of the Charms book resting on Daryan’s desk. “That advantage disappears if William realizes you followed him.”

“I don’t think he saw me.”

“Serenity knows you’re suspicious,” Ivan pointed out.

“She promised not to confront him or repeat anything connected to my care.”

“That does not mean we should investigate this ourselves,” Ivan said. “We are first-years, Daryan. Following people involved with cursed stones and hidden cabinets is not something we should be doing.”

“I’m not asking anyone to follow him alone. We watch him together and find out where he goes. Once we know who he’s meeting, we tell Eruman everything.”

“Professor Sylveran can watch him without being noticed,” Geoffrey said. “He can also examine the fireplace, trace the magic, or do any of the other things we don’t know how to do.”

Daryan looked toward the dormitory door. Natalia could return from the library at any moment.

“We should tell Natalia first,” Theo said gravely. “She needs to know before William is questioned.”

“No,” Daryan said immediately. “Not yet. Please. I don’t want to ruin our friendship just because I’m suspicious.”

“You heard him admit that he delivered the stone,” Ivan reminded him.

“I know what I heard, but I don’t know why he did it. William was frightened of whoever spoke through the fire. What if someone is threatening him? What if they’re threatening his family?”

Geoffrey crossed his arms against his chest. “Keeping Natalia in the dark isn’t protecting her.”

“I know.”

“It’s going to be worse if she learns that we discussed her brother without her.”

“I know that too.” Daryan looked toward each of them. “Just give me one day to figure out how to tell her.”

Geoffrey’s disappointment hurt more than his anger.

“You have until tomorrow night,” he said. “After we tell Natalia, you tell Professor Sylveran everything.”

Daryan hesitated before nodding. “All right.”

“I mean everything,” Geoffrey insisted. “William’s questions, the fireplace, what Serenity said, and the voice ordering him to make up for his failure.”

“I’ll tell him.”

“If you hear another voice, have another dream, or see William doing anything dangerous before then, we go straight to Professor Sylveran,” Ivan added. “I don’t care whether you’re ready.”

“I won’t be angry.”

“That was not the concern.”

Theo looked around the group. “No one follows William alone. We only watch him in places where we would normally be. We tell Natalia tomorrow, and then Daryan speaks with Professor Sylveran.”

Geoffrey nodded. Ivan reluctantly did the same.

It was not the agreement Daryan had wanted, but part of him was relieved that his friends had drawn a limit he would not have to set for himself.

Theo removed the muffling charm from the door. Natalia returned from the library less than ten minutes later, carrying the book beneath one arm. She greeted them before disappearing toward the girls’ staircase.

Daryan watched her leave and felt the weight of the promise he had made.

The following morning began with another examination by Professor Woods.

The healer moved her wand around Daryan’s head and body while making occasional clucking noises. Pale light followed the wand’s tip, lingering near his chest and temples before sinking through his robes.

“What’s wrong?” Daryan asked nervously.

“Absolutely nothing,” Professor Woods said as she stowed her wand. “Your magical reserves have restored themselves, and there is no trace of the thread Professor Vale detected around your mind.”

Daryan relaxed. “Does that mean I don’t have to keep drinking restorative potions?”

“It means you may stop taking them every morning. I reserve the right to change my mind if you begin ignoring your meals, sleep, or other instructions.”

Daryan attempted to look innocent.

Professor Woods raised an eyebrow. “Do not waste your effort.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Since you are feeling well, Headmaster Magreth believes we can begin investigating your other magic.”

Daryan’s mood improved so quickly that his fingers nearly tingled with excitement. “Really?”

“We can practice for a short time, but we are not going to overdo it. The examination ends the moment you become fatigued.”

“I won’t overdo anything,” Daryan promised immediately.

“That promise would be more comforting if you had not already spent a significant portion of this school year under my supervision.”

“I didn’t do most of that on purpose.”

“Most?”

Daryan smiled. Professor Woods tried to remain stern before giving up and shaking her head.

“I’ll have Professor Sylveran and Professor Vale meet us downstairs. The Headmaster is already waiting.”

The old practice chamber was several levels beneath the classrooms of Ilvermorny. Professor Woods led Daryan through a series of descending corridors before stopping at a wide stone door marked with protective symbols.

The door opened at the touch of her wand.

Daryan stepped inside and stared.

The vaulted ceiling rose nearly thirty feet above them. Heavy stones formed the walls, and three reinforced practice dummies stood along the far side of the room. Silver lines crossed the floor, separating the chamber into several different sections. They formed complete boundaries around the targets, the central practice area, and the places from which instructors could observe.

“These lines are protective wards,” Professor Woods explained when she noticed him studying them. “If someone loses control of a spell, the wards activate and nullify any magic that attempts to cross the boundary.”

Daryan looked toward the walls. “What about the symbols outside the door?”

“Similar charms are concealed throughout the chamber. They prevent magical force from escaping into the rest of the school.”

Daryan stepped carefully over the nearest silver line. A strange current moved across his skin as he entered the central section.

“Wow.”

Headmaster Magreth stood near the three practice dummies, examining one of their wooden arms. Professor Vale and Professor Sylveran waited near the outer boundary. All three turned when Daryan and Professor Woods entered.

Eruman crossed the room to greet him.

“I’m glad to see that you are feeling better, Daryan,” the older man said. “If you feel the slightest bit fatigued, the testing will end immediately. Understood?”

“Yes, Headmaster. I already have enough of a reputation for spending too much time in the infirmary.”

Eruman grinned and placed a hand on Daryan’s shoulder. “Did you know that you managed to get yourself stuck in a wall, grandson?”

Daryan stared at him. “What?”

“It apparently took three professors to get you out.”

“I haven’t heard that one yet.”

“Professor Woods has attempted to prevent the story from spreading.”

Professor Woods sighed behind them. “The child was unconscious. He did not get himself stuck anywhere.”

“The account I heard included a great deal of flailing,” Eruman continued.

Daryan began giggling. “Was I halfway through the wall?”

“The details have become less reliable with every retelling.”

“We should begin,” Professor Sylveran said from behind them. “I have several students assigned to detention this afternoon.”

“On a Saturday?” Daryan asked, his amusement fading.

“Hopefully, they learn the lesson and do not repeat their actions again.”

“Remind me never to get on your bad side, Professor.”

A faint smile appeared on Sylveran’s face. “You have come dangerously close on several occasions.”

Professor Vale directed Daryan toward the center of the practice section and positioned him facing the targets.

“We are not testing for power today,” she explained. “We only want to determine whether you can summon this magic deliberately or whether it appears exclusively as an emotional response. Do you understand?”

“I think so. What do you want me to do?”

“Aim toward the closest target and attempt to call the power you used inside the infirmary.”

The professors moved behind the protective boundary. Daryan raised his left hand toward the nearest target. He remembered the pressure that had filled his body while he was trapped inside the vision, but trying to reproduce it made his fingers feel foolishly ordinary.

“Do you feel anything?” Professor Vale asked.

“No.”

“Close your eyes and concentrate upon the sensation rather than the result.”

Daryan obeyed. He remembered the cold gemstone inside his palm and the dark cabinet standing before him. He recalled the whispering voices, the ruined dormitory, and the darkness pouring through the broken castle.

Fear tightened his stomach.

A blue-white spark traced across the tips of two fingers before vanishing.

“I saw something,” Daryan said.

“So did we,” Professor Vale assured him. “Try to hold the feeling.”

Daryan pictured the gemstone again. He remembered its warmth spreading into his hand and the way the dormitory disappeared from his memory after he touched it.

Another spark crossed his fingertips. It glowed slightly longer than the first, but disappeared before he could understand how he had produced it.

Professor Sylveran instructed him to concentrate on the anger he felt toward whoever had placed the stone beside his bed.

That feeling came easily. Daryan thought about William kneeling beside the common-room fire and admitting that he had delivered the gemstone. He remembered the voice complaining that the stone had failed to complete its purpose.

Several sparks jumped between his fingertips.

Daryan attempted to push them toward the target, but the light vanished.

He tried again. Professor Vale adjusted the position of his shoulders, while Professor Woods reminded him to breathe evenly. Daryan raised his hand, lowered it, closed his fingers, and spread them again.

Nothing happened beyond a few brief sparks.

Frustration replaced his excitement. Everyone in the chamber had interrupted their responsibilities to watch him hold out his hand and accomplish almost nothing. The targets remained untouched, and the silver lines across the floor showed no reaction.

“I don’t think I can do it,” Daryan admitted.

“You have already produced a response,” Professor Vale said. “That means the power is present.”

“It doesn’t do anything.”

“You are attempting to command magic you have only experienced during moments of extreme danger. Control will require time.”

Daryan lowered his hand. “Maybe I have to be frightened.”

“You were frightened when you thought about the gemstone,” Professor Woods reminded him.

“Not enough.”

“I am not going to terrify you for the sake of an experiment,” Professor Vale said.

Daryan looked toward the undamaged targets. His face felt warm with embarrassment.

“Think about your friends, Daryan,” Eruman said gently from behind him.

Daryan glanced over his shoulder.

Eruman’s expression remained warm. “Some futures are worth fighting for.”

A prickling sensation moved across Daryan’s skin as the vision of Geoffrey kissing him returned without warning.

Eruman had seen it.

His great-grandfather had seen every part of the vision, including the moment Geoffrey held Daryan’s face and kissed him. Heat climbed into Daryan’s cheeks as he looked away. Eruman had said nothing about it, but the meaning behind his words was unmistakable.

Some futures were worth fighting for.

Was he right?

Daryan faced the targets again and raised his left hand.

He pictured Aryanna sitting beside his infirmary bed and Damon’s arms tightening around him after he awakened. He remembered Geoffrey refusing to leave him alone at night, Theo searching through books for answers, and Ivan sleeping in a chair beside his bed.

He thought about Geoffrey holding him tightly beneath the dormitory blankets. He remembered the sound of Ivan’s voice while he read The Broomstick and the Cat and the steady movement of the boy’s chest beneath his head. He pictured Theo organizing weeks of missed assignments and Natalia unfolding her mother’s letter with a proud smile.

Harper and Parker joined them, followed by Emily, Dalon, and Eruman. Daryan remembered his mother’s laughter, his father’s teasing, and the warmth of his home in Nashville. He pictured Geoffrey standing beside him in the future Eruman had shown him.

Then the darkness returned.

It swarmed over everyone he loved, swallowing the school, the forest, and every person who had made Ilvermorny feel like another home. Daryan felt the helplessness from the vision and remembered struggling against a force he could not understand.

A spark crossed his left fingertips.

Another followed it.

Blue-white light spread along his fingers and curled into his palm. Daryan held his breath. The power did not disappear.

He moved his fingers closer together. The thin currents gathered with them, condensing into a brighter point above the center of his palm. When he spread his fingers again, the light separated into several branching streams.

“I’m moving it,” he whispered.

“Continue slowly,” Professor Vale instructed.

Daryan raised his right hand beside the left. At first, nothing happened. He concentrated on the sensation filling his left palm and imagined drawing part of it across the space between his hands.

A bright current leaped from his left fingertips to his right.

Daryan nearly lost his concentration. He steadied himself and moved his hands apart. The current stretched between them, trembling like a luminous thread before dividing into several arcs.

The hair along his arms and the back of his neck rose.

Daryan tilted his right hand. The power followed the movement, circling his palm before racing back across his fingertips. He brought his hands closer together, and the blue-white arcs condensed into a brilliant sphere between them.

His wand rested inside his robe.

If the power responded to the movement of his hands, would it respond to his wand too? Could the wand focus it into a spell, or would the strange magic damage it?

Daryan wanted to try, but the sphere between his palms was already growing brighter.

The air inside the chamber changed. A deep vibration moved through the floor and entered Daryan’s legs.

“Daryan,” Professor Woods warned. “Do not force it any further.”

“I’m not.”

The power continued building.

Blue-white currents wrapped around Daryan’s wrists and traveled along his forearms. The silver lines surrounding his section ignited with pale light. Stray sparks struck the boundary and vanished instantly, nullified before they could reach the professors.

A second pattern appeared across the stone walls.

Hundreds of concealed charms revealed themselves at once. Symbols burned through the chamber in widening circles, glowing orange and white beneath the pressure of Daryan’s magic. Heat rolled from the walls. Several of the protective markings flickered violently as though they were struggling to remain intact.

Professor Sylveran’s expression changed. “The containment charms are being strained.”

“Daryan, release the power toward the targets,” Professor Vale ordered. “Now.”

Daryan lifted both hands above his head. The sphere stretched between his palms, spilling arcs of blue-white electricity around his arms. He focused upon the three practice dummies and brought his hands forward in one sharp movement.

The resulting flash nearly blinded him.

A roaring burst of blue-white energy crossed the chamber. Every stone surface reflected the light, while the protective lines flared around the professors. The force of the magic leaving Daryan’s body nearly tore him from his feet. He dropped onto one knee and threw a hand toward the floor to stop himself from falling.

The three targets exploded into shards of burning wood.

The remaining force struck the stones behind them. The concealed charms across the wall glowed almost white with heat. One symbol fractured into two lines of searing light before pulling itself together again. The entire chamber trembled as the containment enchantments absorbed the blast.

Then the light began to fade.

The silver boundaries dimmed first. The charms across the walls remained visible for several seconds longer before sinking back into the stones. Smoke rose from the remains of the practice dummies.

“Merlin’s beard,” Professor Sylveran exclaimed.

Daryan remained on one knee, panting. Sweat covered his forehead, and his hands trembled when he attempted to push himself upright.

Professor Woods crossed the protective boundary the moment the silver light disappeared. She placed one hand against Daryan’s shoulder and moved her wand around his head and chest.

“Stay where you are.”

“I’m all right.”

“You may decide that after I examine you.”

Professor Vale approached more slowly, staring at the pieces of burning wood scattered across the target area.

“I asked you to determine whether you could summon the power,” she reminded Daryan. A reluctant smile touched her face. “I do not believe the destruction of every target was required.”

“Sorry,” Daryan panted.

“I didn’t say you had done anything wrong.”

Professor Woods completed the examination and tucked her wand away. “Your magical reserves are reduced, but stable. We are finished for today.”

“I think I’m good with that.” Daryan wiped his forehead with his sleeve. “Can I have some water, please?”

Professor Sylveran left the chamber and returned a moment later with a pitcher of ice water and a cup. He poured the first serving before handing it to Daryan.

“Drink as much as you like, but do so slowly.”

Daryan drank half the cup before Professor Woods placed two fingers against its rim and lowered it.

“I would rather you not make yourself sick.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Daryan took several slower drinks while the adults examined the chamber. Professor Vale crossed to the damaged targets, and Professor Sylveran studied the wall where the containment symbol had nearly split apart.

“Those charms have contained spells cast by experienced adult witches and wizards,” he said.

“He was not merely releasing it,” Professor Vale observed. “He shaped the power before directing it.”

Eruman remained near Daryan. Pride and concern competed within his expression as he looked from the boy to the remains of the targets.

“You controlled it with both hands,” he said.

“I didn’t know I could.” Daryan looked down at his palms. They appeared completely ordinary again. “It started in my left hand, but I moved some of it into the other one.”

“Did the movement feel natural?”

“Not at first. Once it crossed over, it followed whatever I did with my hands.”

Daryan considered mentioning his wand, but decided against it. Professor Woods had already ended the examination, and he suspected that asking to try the power through his wand would earn him another lecture about overexertion.

He could ask Professor Vale later.

After Daryan finished his water, Professor Woods examined him one more time. She allowed him to stand but insisted that Professor Sylveran escort him to the Great Hall for the midday meal.

To Daryan’s relief, Sylveran did not question him as they climbed through the school. Daryan’s legs felt heavy, and his hands continued tingling, but the weakness was nothing like the exhaustion that followed his escape from the vision.

The corridor outside the Great Hall came into view.

The painting of Isolt and James had been returned to its proper location after spending Daryan’s recovery inside the infirmary. The two founders noticed him approaching and immediately smiled.

“Come visit us after your lunch, Daryan,” James called as Daryan and Professor Sylveran passed.

“Yes, sir,” Daryan answered.

Isolt leaned closer to the front of the painted frame. “And eat something substantial. You look tired.”

“Professor Woods already told me.”

“She is a sensible woman.”

Professor Sylveran opened the Great Hall doors. “Your friends are waiting for you.”

He motioned toward the end of the Horned Serpent table, where Natalia, Theo, Ivan, and Geoffrey sat together. Four faces turned toward Daryan at once.

“You are excused from all homework assignments for the remainder of the weekend,” Sylveran continued. “Your only responsibility is to rest after this morning’s unexpected demonstration.”

Daryan suppressed a laugh. He was too tired to waste the energy, and he knew his friends were waiting to overwhelm him with questions.

“Thank you, Professor.”

“Do not forget to visit Isolt and James after your meal.”

“I won’t.”

Professor Sylveran walked toward the Wampus table. Daryan watched him for a moment, remembering the promise he had made to Geoffrey, Theo, and Ivan.

Natalia smiled and moved a pitcher of pumpkin juice toward the empty place beside her. She had no idea what Daryan had learned about her brother or what he would have to tell her before the evening ended.

Daryan joined his friends and accepted the plate Geoffrey immediately began filling for him. There would be time after lunch to explain what had happened inside the practice chamber. Once he had rested, he would speak with Natalia. Then, together, they would go to Professor Sylveran.

 

 

Chapter 22

Hidden Spaces

By the time Daryan finished eating, Geoffrey, Theo, Ivan, and Natalia had asked enough questions about the practice chamber to make him feel as though he had undergone a second examination. He described the sparks, the way the power moved from one hand to the other, and the moment the three practice dummies exploded. Geoffrey appeared especially interested in the wall charms that had nearly failed, while Theo wanted to know exactly how Daryan shaped the energy between his palms. Ivan listened with his usual quiet attention, occasionally asking a question that forced Daryan to admit he did not understand what he had done.

Natalia watched him throughout the explanation. Her concern became more noticeable whenever he paused to drink or leaned against the table. Although Professor Sylveran had excused Daryan from all homework for the weekend, Theo still reminded him which assignments would be due when lessons resumed. Daryan listened until Theo began describing the requirements for their next Transfiguration essay.

“You realize Professor Sylveran said I don’t have to do any homework,” Daryan reminded him, setting his glass beside his plate. “I’m fairly certain that includes listening to someone explain all the homework I’m not supposed to be doing.”

“I’m not asking you to complete anything,” Theo replied. He placed the assignment sheet inside his book and closed the cover. “I’m telling you what will be due so you don’t spend Monday morning asking why everyone else has an essay.”

Geoffrey reached across the table and pushed Theo’s remaining books toward his bag. “You can explain it Monday morning. Right now, he has to visit Isolt and James before they start sending portraits to find him.” He stood and waited while Daryan finished his drink, then collected the empty glass before Daryan could reach for it.

When they left the Great Hall, Daryan remained behind in the corridor while the others continued toward the Horned Serpent common room. The painting of Isolt and James had been returned to its usual place after spending his recovery inside the infirmary. Both founders sat near a wide window overlooking a painted spring garden. James was reading a book while Isolt sorted bundles of dried plants into several woven baskets.

“There you are,” Isolt said warmly when she noticed him. She placed a bundle in the nearest basket and brushed her hands together. “We were beginning to think you had forgotten us.”

“I came as soon as I finished lunch,” Daryan assured her. “Everyone wanted to know what happened this morning. Theo asked so many questions that I thought he might be preparing another assignment.”

James closed his book and placed it beside his chair. “Professor Sylveran tells us that your return to lessons has gone well. I hope your friends’ curiosity has not prevented you from keeping up with your studies.”

“Between Theo and Natalia, I think I’m getting A’s in every class whether I want to or not.” Daryan glanced along the corridor before leaning closer to the frame. “Natalia made me rewrite an entire Transfiguration answer because she said one sentence wasn’t enough.”

“Was it enough?” Isolt asked. She watched his expression until Daryan smiled and shook his head. “Then I believe you should be grateful that she noticed. I am proud of you, Daryan. You lost a great deal of time, but you returned to your work without allowing that to discourage you.”

“I couldn’t get discouraged if I tried. Theo keeps a list.” Daryan looked toward the book beside James’s chair. “You would probably approve. Your book has three ribbons marking the same page.”

“They mark separate passages,” James explained, although he glanced down to check. Isolt laughed softly at his expression, and Daryan found himself smiling with her. For a few moments, the conversation felt pleasantly removed from gemstones, hidden cabinets, and people speaking through darkened fires.

Isolt’s amusement faded as she studied him more closely. “You appear tired,” she observed. “Have you been trying to make up more work than Professor Woods recommended?”

“No. I was downstairs with Professor Woods, Professor Vale, Professor Sylveran, and Eruman this morning.” Daryan rested one hand against the cool stone beside the frame. “They let me practice with my other magic. I figured out how to move it between both hands.”

James leaned forward in his chair. “Were you able to control it?” he asked. His interest became concern when Daryan hesitated before answering.

“For a little while,” Daryan admitted. “Then it got stronger than I expected. I destroyed three target dummies when I released it, and the protections on the walls almost broke. Professor Woods examined me afterward. She said my reserves were lower, but stable.”

“That does not mean you should spend the rest of the day wandering through the school,” Isolt told him. “You need time to recover from that kind of exertion, especially while you are still learning what this magic requires of you.”

“Professor Sylveran already excused me from homework for the weekend,” Daryan said. “I was going to rest after visiting you. I promise I’m not planning to return to the practice chamber.”

“Then we will not keep you,” James replied. He picked up his book but left it closed upon his lap. “Learning when to stop is part of learning control. Remember that the next time you find yourself standing in front of a target.”

Isolt nodded in agreement. “Go upstairs and sleep for a while. Your friends will still be there when you awaken. And do not allow Theo to convince you that reading assignments counts as resting.”

“I heard that,” Theo called from farther down the corridor. Daryan turned and discovered that his four friends had stopped near the corner instead of continuing to the common room. Theo stood with his arms folded while Geoffrey and Ivan attempted to look innocent. Natalia did not bother trying.

“Apparently, my honor guard was listening,” Daryan told the painting. James laughed, and Isolt waved him toward his waiting friends. Daryan said goodbye before joining them, allowing the four students to escort him upstairs without further argument.

He slept through most of the afternoon. Chip curled beside his pillow while Geoffrey sat near the foot of the bed reading. Theo and Ivan worked at their desks, and the ordinary sounds of turning pages and scratching quills followed Daryan into sleep. When he awakened, the sunlight entering the dormitory had changed from bright gold to a softer orange. He felt better, although a dull heaviness remained inside his arms whenever he stretched them.

By dinner, Daryan was hungry enough that Professor Woods would have approved of the amount of food he placed upon his plate. The Horned Serpent table held roasted chicken, buttered potatoes, green beans, and thick slices of bread. He sat beside Geoffrey while Theo and Ivan took their usual places across from them. Natalia arrived several minutes after the meal began, carrying a folded letter in one hand.

“Did something happen?” Theo asked as she sat beside Ivan. Natalia placed the letter near her plate but made no attempt to reach for the food.

“I received another letter from my mother this afternoon. She’s asking whether I saw an old necklace while I was looking through the family collection.” Natalia unfolded the parchment and smoothed its creases. “It belonged to one of my great-great-grandmothers. Mother said it was kept inside a green velvet case in the family vault, but the case is empty.”

Geoffrey lowered the bread he had been buttering. “Does she think you took it?” he asked, looking from Natalia to the letter.

“She asked whether I moved it and forgot to return it,” Natalia replied. “Apparently, my questions about gemstones made her check the collection. I wrote back immediately. I would never remove anything from the vault without permission. Some of the objects inside it are dangerous.”

Daryan stopped cutting his chicken. “What did the necklace look like?” he asked. Natalia consulted the description while he watched her fingers move down the page.

“The chain was silver, and the setting was shaped like several branches holding a large gemstone. Mother described the stone as gray with dark-blue and black veins.” Natalia looked up. “She said it was priceless, but that doesn’t explain why she thinks I would borrow it. I wouldn’t even know whether it was safe to wear.”

Geoffrey’s fork lowered to his plate. Theo stopped reaching for the bread, and Ivan looked from Natalia to Daryan. The gemstone from the plain brown parcel had appeared almost black near its center, with darker veins crossing beneath its gray surface. Its brighter silver markings had emerged later. Daryan remembered turning it in his hand without understanding what he was holding.

“Is something wrong?” Natalia asked. Her gaze moved between the boys, following the silent exchange none of them had managed to conceal.

Daryan looked down the Horned Serpent table. William sat among several seventh-years near the opposite end. He had barely touched his meal, and his attention shifted toward the entrance whenever another student entered the Great Hall. The missing necklace gave Daryan an explanation for where William might have obtained the gemstone. It also left him with no reason to postpone telling Natalia.

“I’ll explain after dinner,” Daryan said quietly. When she followed his gaze toward her brother, he added, “We should talk somewhere private.”

Natalia’s expression became troubled, but she nodded. The remainder of the meal passed slowly. She barely ate, and the other boys made little effort to continue their earlier conversation. Daryan felt the weight of every minute that passed. William left before dessert appeared, gathering his belongings without saying much to the students around him.

The Horned Serpents returned to their common room after dinner. Students spread throughout the chamber, claiming tables near the fireplace or carrying books toward the dormitory staircases. Several older students were already discussing their final examinations, while younger groups gathered near the windows to play games. Daryan entered with Geoffrey, Theo, and Ivan and immediately noticed William standing beside the fireplace.

William appeared to be listening while another seventh-year complained about a Transfiguration revision guide, but his attention repeatedly moved toward the flames. Nothing unusual disturbed the fire. Even so, William flinched when one of the logs broke apart and sent sparks against the grate. He rubbed his palms against his robes before returning his attention to the conversation.

Natalia crossed the room before Daryan could suggest sitting down together. She held her mother’s letter tightly, and William’s expression changed when he noticed it in her hand. He forced a smile as she stopped beside him.

“What do you need?” William asked. His voice was quiet, but Daryan remained close enough to hear him over the conversations around the room.

“Mother wrote to me today. An old necklace is missing from the family vault,” Natalia explained. “She asked whether I removed it while I was researching the gemstones. I told her I didn’t, but I wondered whether you had seen it.”

William glanced toward the two seventh-years beside him. “Why would I have seen it?” he asked, lowering his voice and motioning for Natalia to do the same.

“You’ve been inside the vault more recently than I have.” Natalia held out the letter so he could read the description. “I thought you might remember whether it was there when you collected those books.”

“So you think I stole it?” William demanded. Both students beside him fell silent, and Natalia drew back in surprise. “You come over here in front of everyone and ask whether I took a priceless piece of jewelry?”

“I asked whether you had seen it,” Natalia replied. “William, I’m not accusing you of anything. Mother asked me, so I thought I would ask you.”

William snatched the letter from her hand. His eyes moved across the description, and Daryan caught a brief expression of fear before William’s face hardened. He shoved the parchment toward his sister without releasing it.

“I don’t know anything about Mother’s necklace,” William said. “I have final examinations approaching, Serenity is constantly busy in the infirmary, and now my little sister is accusing me of stealing from our family.”

“What has gotten into you?” Natalia asked. She reached for the letter, but William’s grip tightened for a moment before he let go. “I only asked a question.”

“Then stop behaving like a silly girl and leave me alone.” William turned back toward the fireplace, dismissing her before she could answer. One of the seventh-years shifted uncomfortably, but neither said anything.

Natalia’s face crumpled before she could hide it. She folded the letter against her chest and hurried across the common room. Students looked away as she passed, pretending they had not overheard the argument. Daryan followed as soon as she disappeared through the entrance, then stopped when Geoffrey, Theo, and Ivan started after him.

“Give her a minute,” Daryan told them quietly. “I’ll stay near the entrance, and I’ll bring her back. She doesn’t need all of us asking questions right now.”

Geoffrey glanced toward the doorway before reluctantly nodding. “Don’t leave the corridor,” he said. Daryan agreed and slipped outside while the others remained near the closest table.

He found Natalia several turns down the corridor near the stone Horned Serpent that marked the approach to their house entrance. She leaned against the statue’s raised base with her face turned away, wiping her eyes angrily with one sleeve. Daryan slowed as he approached, unsure whether she wanted anyone to see her crying.

“Go away,” Natalia muttered. When Daryan quietly identified himself, she nodded without looking toward him. He asked whether she still wanted him to leave, and she shook her head.

Daryan leaned against the statue beside her. For a moment, neither spoke. The corridor remained quiet apart from distant voices and the occasional shifting of portraits inside their frames. Natalia folded and unfolded the corner of her mother’s letter until the parchment began to soften beneath her fingers.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into him,” she finally said. “He’s never spoken to me that way before. He gets annoyed when I interrupt him, but he doesn’t usually try to embarrass me.”

“I don’t think he meant to hurt you,” Daryan replied. “He looked frightened when he read the description. I think he was trying to make you stop asking about it.”

Natalia wiped her face again and turned toward him. “Why would a missing necklace frighten him unless he knows something about it?” she asked. Daryan hesitated, and her expression changed. “This is what you wanted to tell me after dinner, isn’t it?”

Daryan took a slow breath. “William knew about the stone that appeared in our dormitory. Earlier this week, he asked whether Professor Vale had neutralized it. He also asked whether Headmaster Magreth still had it.”

“How could he know about that?” Natalia asked. She straightened against the statue, her attention settling fully upon him.

“He claimed Serenity told him that Professor Vale had been called to examine a contaminated object. I didn’t believe she would discuss something like that, so I spoke to her yesterday.” Daryan looked toward the common-room entrance before continuing. “She never mentioned the stone, Professor Vale, or anything connected to the investigation. She didn’t even tell William that I was the student she helped care for.”

Natalia lowered her eyes to the letter. “Then William lied about where he heard it,” she said. “What else do you know?”

“Two nights ago, I woke up and heard voices downstairs,” Daryan explained. “William was talking to someone through the common-room fireplace, but I couldn’t see anyone in the flames. I could only hear a man’s voice answering him.” He paused, watching Natalia’s expression. “William admitted that he delivered the gemstone. He said it was supposed to keep me connected long enough to open a path.”

Natalia pressed the folded letter against her mouth. Daryan waited while she lowered it again, then described the conversation as carefully as he could. He told her how William kept looking over his shoulder, how the voice accused him of allowing the stone to be taken, and how frightened her brother sounded when he argued that he could not retrieve it.

“William told him the stone nearly killed me,” Daryan continued. “The man didn’t care. He only said it hadn’t completed its purpose. William said he couldn’t get into Eruman’s office, and the man told him he would have to make up for his failure.”

“Did he tell William what he wanted him to do?” Natalia asked. Her voice remained controlled, although Daryan could see how tightly she held the letter.

“No. William asked, but the conversation ended before he received an answer. The fire went dark, and I went back upstairs.” Daryan rubbed his thumb against the edge of his sleeve. “He looked scared, Natalia. I don’t know whether he agreed to do this in the beginning or whether someone forced him.”

“When did you tell Geoffrey and the others?” Natalia asked. She glanced toward the entrance as though she expected the boys to be waiting just beyond it.

“Last night. I wanted to speak with Serenity first so I could be certain she hadn’t said anything.” Daryan lowered his gaze. “I should have told you this morning. I’m sorry.”

Natalia was quiet for several seconds before she unfolded the letter again. “William had access to the vault during the winter holiday. Mother and Father trusted him to retrieve several books.” Her eyes moved across the description. “He could have taken the necklace then. If he removed the gemstone, he wouldn’t have needed to send you the chain or the setting.”

“That’s what I thought when you read the description at dinner,” Daryan admitted. “I didn’t want to hurt you if I was wrong. After I heard him in the common room, I thought someone might be threatening him or your family, and I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“You should have told me that too.” Natalia folded the letter carefully this time and tucked it inside her robe. “Stop excluding me, Daryan. William is my brother. If he’s in danger, I need to know. If he did something terrible, I need to know that too.”

“I won’t keep anything else from you,” Daryan promised. He had expected anger or disbelief, but the worry in Natalia’s expression made him feel worse about waiting. She was already trying to understand how to help William, even after what he had said to her.

Natalia studied him before nodding. “We need to keep an eye on him. I don’t want to confront him again when we don’t know who else might be listening.”

“Geoffrey wants us to tell Professor Sylveran,” Daryan explained. “I promised we would speak with him after I told you.”

“If Professor Sylveran questions William, whoever was speaking through the fire may realize we know.” Natalia glanced toward the common-room entrance, then pushed herself away from the statue. “I have an idea. Let’s talk to the others.”

Geoffrey stood near the entrance waiting for them, while Theo and Ivan had moved their belongings to a table in a quieter corner of the room. All three boys examined Natalia’s face when she returned. Daryan told them that he had explained everything, and Natalia looked between them before taking the empty chair beside Ivan.

“You should have told me sooner,” Natalia said, keeping her voice low. “All of you should have. I understand why you were worried, but you can’t discuss my brother and decide that I’m the only person who shouldn’t know.”

Theo lowered his eyes. “You’re right,” he admitted. Ivan quietly agreed, while Geoffrey glanced toward William’s table near the upper-year staircase. Several books lay open there, but William was no longer sitting behind them.

“We still need to tell Professor Sylveran,” Geoffrey said. “Daryan heard William admit that he delivered the stone. We can’t pretend this is only a suspicion anymore.”

“Give me two days,” Natalia replied. Geoffrey immediately shook his head, but she continued before he could object. “Listen to me first. If William is being controlled or threatened, confronting him could warn whoever is doing it. That person already blamed him for failing with the gemstone.”

Ivan folded his arms on the table. “We don’t know what the person meant by making William repay that failure,” he said. “Waiting could give William time to do something else.”

“That is why I want to know where he goes,” Natalia explained. “Not by following close enough for him to notice us. We need a way to watch without warning him.”

Geoffrey looked toward Daryan, then back to her. “How are we supposed to do that?” he asked. “William spends half his time in places we can’t enter without attracting attention.”

Natalia turned toward Theo and Ivan. “Could we enchant one of our maps to show specific people? We wouldn’t need everyone in the school. Only the five of us and William.”

Theo considered the suggestion while Ivan reached for her mother’s letter. Natalia placed it before him and pointed to the side William had gripped during their argument. Ivan carefully touched the edge without putting his fingers over the area she indicated.

“We would need a magical trace from each person,” Ivan said. “A fresh one would make it easier. This might be enough for William, especially if Natalia helps establish the connection.”

“A complete tracking map would be difficult,” Theo cautioned. He drew the copied school plans from his bag and spread them across the table. “But we already have the layout. We would be adding the location enchantment to it instead of trying to create everything at once.”

Geoffrey remained standing beside Daryan’s chair. “Even if it works, that doesn’t change what we promised. We were supposed to go to Professor Sylveran tonight.”

Natalia looked up at him. “If we learn where William meets this person, Professor Sylveran could investigate without questioning him first. Give me two days to find out. If anything goes wrong, I’ll take the blame.”

“That won’t keep anyone safe,” Geoffrey replied. His voice softened when Natalia lowered her eyes, but he did not withdraw the objection. “I’m not worried about getting detention.”

“I know.” Natalia clasped her hands together on the table. “I’m asking because he’s my brother. If someone is watching him, they could hurt him before he has a chance to explain. I want us to give Professor Sylveran somewhere to look, not just William’s name.”

Daryan understood the fear in her face. It was the same fear that had summoned the blue-white power inside the practice chamber. Natalia was not simply trying to protect William from the consequences of what he had done. She wanted to keep him alive long enough for someone to help him.

“No one follows him alone,” Daryan said. When Geoffrey turned toward him, he continued, “We give Natalia two days, and then we tell Professor Sylveran everything. It doesn’t matter what the map shows.”

“If there is any immediate danger, the two days end,” Ivan added. Natalia agreed at once, and Theo nodded beside him. Geoffrey remained silent for several seconds before finally pulling out a chair.

“Two days,” Geoffrey said. “We only watch William. We don’t confront him, and we don’t keep extending this because we want one more answer.” He waited until both Daryan and Natalia agreed before looking down at the school plans.

Theo removed a large sheet of unused parchment from his bag while Ivan arranged the copied plans beside it. Their maps showed the main levels of Ilvermorny, including classrooms, house entrances, the library, the infirmary, and most regularly used corridors. Several older portions remained incomplete. Entire sections had been rebuilt or sealed during different periods of the school’s history, leaving blank spaces where the available records disagreed.

“We can’t put every floor on the same surface,” Ivan observed. He moved one of the upper-level plans away from a drawing of the ground floor. “The corridors would overlap, and we wouldn’t know which staircase anyone was using.”

“Then we’ll have it display one level at a time,” Theo suggested. He placed his wand against the edge of the blank parchment. “We can keep the other levels underneath and call them forward when we need them.”

Natalia moved closer and examined the different plans. “Put the level markings along this side,” she said, indicating the left margin. “Then we can touch the one we want with our wands.”

Theo and Ivan worked together to transfer the first plan. Thin black lines spread across the blank parchment, forming corridors and rooms around a small drawing of the Great Hall. Theo added a narrow column along the left edge while Ivan anchored the copied layout within the border. The next plan briefly appeared over the first, making the drawing difficult to read, but Natalia helped separate the layers before the ink settled.

The work required several attempts. A staircase initially appeared on the wrong floor, and one of the passages stretched through the middle of a classroom. Theo corrected the copying charm while Ivan held the surrounding sections steady. Daryan watched from his chair, resisting the urge to offer his wand when his arms still felt heavier than they should.

At last, Theo touched one of the markings along the parchment’s edge. The ground-floor drawing faded, its lines becoming pale enough to see through before disappearing beneath the surface. Another arrangement of rooms rose in its place. Daryan recognized the library and the broad corridor outside it.

Natalia touched a higher marking with the tip of her wand. The library sank from view, replaced by smaller classrooms and a different arrangement of stairs. She smiled and tapped the marking for the Horned Serpent common-room level. The parchment shifted again, bringing their part of the school into focus.

“That will be much easier to read,” Ivan said. He leaned over the border and added a containment charm to each corner. “We should limit the tracking to the school grounds. Otherwise, it may keep trying to locate someone who leaves.”

“It should stop when we put it away too,” Theo added. “We can fold it closed to make the enchantment dormant and open it when we want to check.” He demonstrated by folding the parchment completely. When he opened it again, the selected level returned after a moment, its lines darkening across the surface.

One at a time, the five friends touched the map and stated their names while Theo and Ivan completed the linking charm. Small points of light appeared beneath their fingertips. When Daryan withdrew his hand, his name remained beside a tiny marker inside the Horned Serpent common room. Geoffrey’s appeared next to his, followed by Theo’s, Ivan’s, and Natalia’s.

Geoffrey stood and walked toward the window. His marker moved away from the others, crossing the tiny common room before stopping near its outer wall. Natalia laughed quietly when he leaned in one direction and then the other, apparently testing whether the map would notice.

“It shows where you are,” Theo told him. “It isn’t drawing a portrait. You can stop posing.”

“I’m checking that it works,” Geoffrey replied as he returned to the table. His marker followed, joining the other four. Even Ivan smiled before turning his attention back to Natalia’s letter.

Natalia placed two fingers upon the area William had held. With Ivan guiding the linking charm, she spoke her brother’s name and concentrated upon him. The letter trembled beneath her hand. A thin silver thread rose from the parchment and crossed onto the map, but no new marker appeared beside theirs. Instead, one of the level markings along the left edge began to glow faintly.

Theo touched the illuminated marking with his wand. Their common room faded beneath the surface, taking the five familiar names with it. A higher floor replaced it, and William Banks appeared near the western edge of the drawing.

“What is William doing over there?” Ivan asked. Everyone leaned closer as William’s marker traveled along a corridor surrounded by only a few incomplete walls and the edge of an old staircase.

“That isn’t near the seventh-year dormitories,” Theo said. He tapped the marking for the dormitory level to compare the layouts, then touched the previous one to bring William back into view. “He’s on the other side of the school.”

Natalia looked toward her brother’s abandoned books. “He told me he needed to study,” she said. Her fingers tightened around the edge of the table as William’s name moved farther west.

Daryan remembered the man’s voice inside the fire and the demand that William make up for his failure. He watched the marker approach the incomplete portion of the plan, wishing the parchment could show what William was carrying or whom he expected to meet.

“We should look at that corridor,” Theo suggested. Geoffrey immediately turned toward him, and Theo added, “Not approach William. We can check which part of the school this is without speaking to him.”

Ivan glanced at the clock above the entrance. “We don’t have much time before curfew,” he warned. “If we go, we need to return before the corridors are cleared.”

“We stop if the passage is restricted,” Theo said. He looked around the table until the others agreed, although Geoffrey did so reluctantly. Natalia put her mother’s letter inside her robe while Ivan gathered the original plans. Theo kept the enchanted map open, supporting it carefully between both hands as they left.

They climbed two staircases and crossed the gallery outside the Astronomy records room. At each landing, Theo touched the appropriate level marking with his wand. The rooms around their five names changed as the parchment brought the next floor into view. Whenever he wanted to check William, he tapped the marking for the upper western level, studied the older boy’s position, and then returned to the floor they were crossing.

Daryan found himself watching the changes almost as closely as William’s marker. Corridors faded beneath one another without tangling, and the same staircase appeared in different positions on successive levels according to where it emerged. Natalia took the map briefly while Theo adjusted his grip, changing the displayed floor with a touch of her own wand.

The occupied corridors became quieter as they moved farther from the dormitories. Smooth gray blocks gave way to older stones that varied in color and size. Several windows were narrower than those found throughout the rest of Ilvermorny, and the sconces stood farther apart. When the group reached William’s level, Theo no longer needed to switch between floors to compare their positions.

Their five markers approached the incomplete western edge of the drawing. As they walked into a passage missing from the original plan, thin lines began extending ahead of them. The parchment recorded an alcove containing a cracked stone bench and the short flight of steps they had just descended.

“It’s adding the corridor,” Natalia whispered. She watched a corner form beneath Daryan’s marker as he rounded it. “Will it do the same wherever William goes?”

“Only where one of us carries the map,” Ivan explained. “Our traces are bound into the mapping charm. William’s is only attached to the locator. He can appear in places already drawn, but he won’t fill in anything we haven’t explored.”

Daryan slowed at the next intersection. A faded tapestry hung beside the darker passage, showing several witches gathered around a silver basin. Years of dust and damage had obscured their faces, but he remembered the arrangement of their robes and the uneven stones beneath the hanging cloth.

“I’ve been here before,” Daryan said. Geoffrey moved closer as he stared beyond the tapestry. “I walked past this corridor months ago. I heard voices calling my name.”

The tingling began inside his left hand before anyone answered. Daryan looked down as blue-white sparks traced across his fingertips. More appeared along his right hand, moving in thin, restless currents that briefly illuminated his palms. He had not reached for the power or tried to summon the feelings from the practice chamber.

“Is that the same magic you used this morning?” Natalia asked. She gave him a little more room while Geoffrey watched his hands with increasing concern.

“Yes, but I’m not doing it on purpose.” Daryan slowly spread his fingers, hoping the movement would settle the sparks. The light remained small, flickering along his skin without gathering into the larger currents he had produced earlier.

Theo supported the map against the wall and touched his wand to the spot where their five markers stood. “Revela Potentiam,” he whispered. A tiny blue spark appeared upon the parchment, hovering over the drawn intersection.

“What did you just do?” Daryan asked. He curled his fingers toward his palms as the last few sparks faded, leaving a lingering prickling beneath his skin.

“I marked where your power reacted,” Theo explained. “If it happens somewhere else, we can compare the locations. The mark will stay on this level even when we look at another floor.”

Ivan examined the small blue light. “That should help us find this place again,” he said. Geoffrey was less interested in the marker than in Daryan, and he waited until both of Daryan’s hands appeared ordinary before looking toward the passage ahead.

“We’ve seen enough,” Geoffrey told the group. “We know where the corridor is, and we can watch the map from the common room.”

“Wait,” Natalia said, pointing beside Theo’s wand. “William is moving again.” His name traveled along a narrow hallway represented by two incomplete lines. The marker reached what appeared to be a solid wall and remained there for several seconds before disappearing.

Natalia leaned over the parchment. “Did he go upstairs?” she asked. She touched the marking for the next level with her wand, making the western corridor fade beneath another floor. William’s name did not appear there.

Theo checked the level below, then returned to the floor where they stood. Their five markers remained grouped beside the blue spark, but William was gone. Ivan took a turn checking the neighboring levels while Natalia watched each new layout emerge.

“There wasn’t a staircase where he stopped,” Ivan said at last. He brought their current level back to the surface and pointed to the wall at the end of William’s route. “He might have passed into a section the map doesn’t recognize, or somewhere protected against the tracking charm.”

“Then that may not really be a wall,” Natalia said. Her gaze shifted toward the corridor ahead. “We should get closer. He could be just beyond the corner.”

Geoffrey shook his head. “Curfew is in less than fifteen minutes. Daryan’s hands just started sparking, and William disappeared into a place we can’t see. We’re going back.” He waited until Natalia looked at him before adding, “We agreed we weren’t going to approach him.”

Natalia hesitated, but Ivan quietly supported Geoffrey. Theo folded the map, and the five students retraced their route. Daryan glanced over his shoulder several times as they left the older corridors, although William never appeared behind them. The tingling in his hands faded once they reached the more familiar part of the school.

They were descending the final staircase toward the Horned Serpent corridor when Headmaster Magreth appeared below them. Eruman stopped and looked up at the group, greeting them before his attention settled upon Daryan.

“What are you doing this far from your common room?” Eruman asked. The five students slowed on the steps, and Theo kept the folded map tucked beneath his arm.

“We were walking,” Daryan answered. “We’re heading back before curfew.” He hoped the explanation would be enough, but Eruman climbed the remaining steps and examined him more closely.

“You appear tired,” Eruman observed. He placed a hand on Daryan’s shoulder, his expression concerned rather than angry.

“I slept most of the afternoon,” Daryan assured him. “I feel much better than I did after the practice room.”

“A nap does not erase the amount of magic you expended this morning,” Eruman replied. “You nearly overwhelmed protections designed to contain spells cast by experienced adults. Professor Woods instructed you to rest, and now you are wandering through the oldest sections of the school near curfew.”

Daryan lowered his eyes to the steps. “I’m sorry,” he said. He could still feel the heaviness in his arms, and the walk back had required more effort than he wanted to admit.

“I am not angry with you,” Eruman assured him. “But rest was not a casual suggestion. You need to allow yourself to recover before asking anything more of your magic.” He waited for Daryan’s agreement before easing his hand from the boy’s shoulder. “I was coming to speak with you about Spring Break. You will need to remain at Ilvermorny.”

“The entire break?” Daryan asked. Spring Break began in three days, and he had been looking forward to sleeping in his own room, visiting the deli, and spending time with his parents without an infirmary bed between them.

“I’m afraid so,” Eruman said. “Professor Vale and Professor Woods want to continue monitoring your recovery. We also need to understand more about your other magic before you leave the school’s protections. I spoke with your parents this afternoon. They are disappointed that you cannot come home, but they understand.”

Daryan nodded, although the thought of watching other students leave without him was discouraging. Before he could ask whether his parents might visit, Geoffrey stepped closer.

“I’ll stay too,” Geoffrey announced. When Eruman asked whether he had discussed that with Emily, Geoffrey shook his head. “Not yet, but I’m sure she’ll agree. She’ll probably spend most of the break with Daryan’s uncle anyway.”

Daryan looked at him and grinned. “You noticed that too?” he asked. Geoffrey’s expression suggested that it had been impossible to miss.

“My mother thinks she’s being subtle,” Geoffrey said. “She mentions him in almost every letter, but apparently I’m not supposed to notice.”

“She isn’t very good at hiding it,” Daryan agreed. Both boys laughed, and even Eruman appeared amused as he listened.

“I can probably stay as well,” Theo said. “I’ll write to my parents and explain that the others are remaining here.” Ivan added that he would ask his mother, while Natalia said she had already planned to stay because William intended to study for his final examinations.

Daryan’s disappointment eased as he looked around the group. Eruman seemed to notice the change, and his smile returned as he addressed them.

“Once you have spoken with your families, make sure your prefect knows you intend to stay. They will submit your names to the professor responsible for Horned Serpent,” Eruman explained. “We usually have a few students remain during Christmas and Spring Break, so you certainly won’t be the first.”

“I’ll let our prefect know tonight,” Theo said. He shifted the folded map against his books, already appearing to organize the task among everything else he wanted to finish.

“Tomorrow will be fine,” Eruman assured him before returning his attention to Daryan. “Tonight, all five of you are going back to your common room, and you are going directly to bed.”

Daryan knew better than to argue. Eruman accompanied them through the final corridors, keeping their pace unhurried. When they reached the stone Horned Serpent marking the approach to their entrance, he waited until all five students had passed safely inside before continuing along the corridor.

Natalia immediately turned toward Theo. “Can we check once before you put it away?” she asked. “I need to know whether William returned.”

Geoffrey looked toward the clock, then at Daryan. Ivan intervened before another argument could begin, suggesting a single check at the nearest table. Daryan agreed, and Theo unfolded the parchment while Natalia drew her wand.

The western corridor returned to the surface with their blue marker still fixed beside the intersection. No names appeared on that level. Natalia touched the marking for the upper-year dormitories, and the passage faded beneath a new arrangement of bedrooms and staircases. William Banks rested inside one of the seventh-year boys’ rooms.

“He’s back,” Natalia said quietly. She remained looking at his name for a few moments before moving her wand away. Theo waited until she nodded, then folded the map and placed it securely between his books.

Daryan said goodnight to Natalia before following the boys upstairs. He changed into his nightclothes while Ivan helped Theo put the map inside his trunk. Geoffrey moved his pillow onto Daryan’s bed without asking, making it clear that the evening’s discoveries had renewed his determination to keep Daryan within reach.

“You heard Eruman,” Daryan said as Geoffrey climbed beneath the blankets. “I’m supposed to rest. That might be easier if you left me enough room.”

Geoffrey shifted toward the far side of the mattress and lifted the blanket for him. “There. Plenty of room, and now someone will notice if you decide to go for another walk.”

Daryan settled beside him while Theo extinguished the lamps. Chip flew from his perch and landed near their pillows, stepping across Geoffrey’s arm before finding a comfortable place to sleep. Geoffrey moved the owl gently away from his face, and Daryan smiled as he tucked his own hand beneath the pillow.

For a little while, Daryan listened to Theo and Ivan finishing their preparations for bed. His thoughts returned to William’s name disappearing at the wall, but his body had begun to settle now that he was warm and no longer moving. Geoffrey’s breathing grew steady beside him, and Daryan closed his eyes. He was asleep before Theo finished putting away the last of his books.

 

 

Chapter 23

The Hidden Cabinet

The first evening of watching William produced nothing unusual.

His name remained inside the seventh-year boys’ dormitory until nearly midnight, shifting only a few inches across the enchanted map whenever he moved around the room. Natalia remained in the common room with Daryan, Geoffrey, Theo, and Ivan until their prefect warned them that first-years should have been in bed fifteen minutes earlier. Even then, she refused to leave until William’s name settled near the place where his bed should have been.

The following day passed beneath the growing anticipation of Spring Break. Several students departed early with their families, while others spent the final lessons discussing where they would be going and what they planned to do with their week away from school. Daryan attempted to concentrate on his assignments, but his attention repeatedly returned to the map secured inside Theo’s schoolbag.

Geoffrey received Emily’s permission to remain at Ilvermorny shortly before lunch. Theo and Ivan received permission from their parents that afternoon. They informed their prefect, who added their names to the list being submitted to the professor responsible for Horned Serpent House.

Natalia had already been expected to remain at school. Her parents were occupied with family business, although the missing necklace appeared to have become more important than whatever plans they had made before receiving her letter.

Daryan felt guilty whenever he considered how relieved he was that none of his friends would leave him. The discovery of William’s involvement had made the castle feel different. Every staircase and corridor possessed the possibility of leading to something hidden, while every ordinary conversation William held with another student made Daryan wonder whether the older boy was pretending.

William appeared at dinner that evening with the other seventh-years. He sat several places from Natalia and barely touched the roasted chicken on his plate. Dark shadows surrounded his eyes, and his hair looked as though he had repeatedly dragged his fingers through it. Whenever someone addressed him, he reacted a moment too late before offering an answer that appeared convincing enough to satisfy them.

Natalia noticed every movement.

She kept her attention upon her meal whenever William looked in their direction, but Daryan saw the tension in her fingers as she tore a roll into increasingly smaller pieces. William never looked directly at his sister. He finished less than half of his dinner before leaving the Great Hall alone.

Natalia waited until the doors closed behind him.

“He knows we’re suspicious,” she said quietly.

Geoffrey glanced toward the departing seventh-year. “Or he knows the necklace is missing.”

“That isn’t better.”

“No,” Geoffrey acknowledged. “It isn’t.”

Theo lowered his voice. “Tonight is the second night. After this, we tell Professor Sylveran.”

Natalia looked toward the empty place where her brother had been sitting. Her expression tightened, but she nodded.

“I remember the agreement,” she said.

They returned to the Horned Serpent common room after dinner and spread their schoolwork across one of the tables. Anyone observing them would have seen five first-years preparing for their final lessons before Spring Break. Their enchanted map remained concealed beneath Theo’s open Charms book, with only the western portion of the castle visible.

Ivan stacked the books they were no longer using in the center of the table. Daryan watched the upper levels of the map while pretending to read a chapter about Switching Spells. Natalia wrote several lines of an Astronomy response without once looking toward her textbook.

William’s name appeared inside the seventh-year dormitory.

For more than an hour, it barely moved.

Several younger Horned Serpents departed for bed. The common-room fire sank lower inside the grate, and the conversations surrounding it gradually faded. Two seventh-years remained near the windows comparing examination notes, while an older girl slept in an armchair with a book open across her chest.

Daryan’s eyes began to ache from moving between his Transfiguration essay and the map.

“He might not go anywhere tonight,” Ivan whispered.

Natalia dipped her quill into the ink bottle. “Then we tell Professor Sylveran.”

Daryan looked at her. He could hear how much effort the promise required, but she did not attempt to delay them again.

A small black name began moving across the parchment.

Theo immediately slid his Charms book aside.

William Banks left the dormitory and descended toward the common room. The map changed as his name reached the staircase, shifting from the upper dormitory level to the floor beneath it.

“He’s coming down,” Geoffrey warned.

Theo covered the map again. Everyone lowered their attention toward their assignments as William entered the common room.

He wore his school robe over a gray sleeping shirt and loose trousers. His feet were bare, and his eyes remained directed toward the common-room entrance. William crossed the room without acknowledging the seventh-years near the windows or noticing his sister seated only a short distance away.

Something was wrong with the way he walked. His steps were steady, but his body appeared unnaturally rigid. His arms hung at his sides, and his face showed none of the nervousness Daryan had noticed during dinner.

William passed through the exit.

Natalia stood immediately.

“He wasn’t awake,” Daryan whispered.

“I know.”

Theo folded the map and slipped it inside his robes. Ivan gathered their loose parchment and placed it beneath the stack of books so nothing would blow into the fire or attract attention.

The five friends left the common room together. The stone Horned Serpent watched them pass beneath its wings before the entrance closed behind them.

They had barely reached the first staircase when Harper and Parker appeared around the corner. Both carried books from their evening studies and appeared to be heading toward their own houses before curfew.

Parker slowed when he saw them. Harper stopped completely.

“Where are all of you going?” Harper asked.

“Nowhere,” Geoffrey answered too quickly.

Harper looked from Geoffrey to the folded edge of parchment protruding from Theo’s robes. Her eyes narrowed as she noticed how closely the group had gathered around Daryan.

“You’re sneaking somewhere,” she said.

“We are not sneaking,” Theo replied. “We’re walking quietly.”

“That’s sneaking with better posture,” Parker observed.

“We need to go,” Natalia said as she continued toward the staircase.

Harper stepped into her path. “Then we’re coming with you.”

“No,” Ivan said. “There are already too many of us.”

“We’re all friends,” Harper reminded him. “You don’t get to exclude Parker and me whenever something dangerous happens.”

“That is exactly when you should want to be excluded,” Ivan argued.

Harper folded her arms. “We’re coming.”

Ivan glanced toward the map hidden inside Theo’s robes and then toward the corridor William had used. Every moment they spent arguing allowed him to move farther away.

“Fine,” Ivan agreed hesitantly. “Stay close, and do exactly what we tell you.”

Harper and Parker immediately placed their books upon a bench beside the staircase.

“We’ll pick those up on the way back,” Parker said.

Harper moved beside Natalia, while Parker joined Geoffrey and Daryan as the enlarged group hurried down the staircase.

“What are we doing?” Parker asked.

“We’re following William,” Natalia answered bluntly. “He put the stone in Daryan’s dormitory right after Christmas.”

Parker nearly missed the next step. “Merlin’s bloody teeth.”

He looked toward Daryan, but he did not ask for an explanation. Whatever he saw in Daryan’s expression appeared to convince him that Natalia was serious.

“All right,” Parker said. “Which way did he go?”

Harper appeared less certain. Her gaze moved between Natalia and Daryan before settling upon the map Theo removed from his robes.

“You’re sure it was William?” she asked quietly.

“Yes,” Natalia answered.

The certainty in her voice silenced Harper’s remaining questions. Although concern lingered across her face, she nodded and continued beside them.

Theo unfolded the map as they reached the bottom of the staircase. William’s name was no longer visible on the level displayed across the parchment. Theo touched the tip of his wand to the marking along the upper edge, causing the inked corridors to contract and rearrange themselves. Another level of Ilvermorny spread across the map.

William Banks moved through a passage two floors beneath them.

“This way,” Theo said.

They descended another staircase and crossed a portrait gallery. Most of the paintings had already gone to sleep. A wizard wearing a green velvet coat snored with his head against a table, while two witches shared a blanket beneath a painted apple tree. None of them awakened as the students hurried past.

At the next landing, William’s name reached the edge of the displayed floor and vanished again. Theo touched his wand to the lower-level marking. The lines rolled across the parchment like spilled ink before reforming into the corridors beneath them.

Daryan recognized the western side of the castle.

“That’s where we followed him before,” he whispered.

“And where your magic reacted,” Ivan added.

The small blue point Theo had placed upon the map remained near the entrance to the unfamiliar corridor. William’s name approached it from the opposite direction.

“He’s almost there,” Natalia said.

They hurried down the final staircase, emerging into a broad corridor lined with portraits. William was already crossing the far end.

Natalia started forward, but Geoffrey caught her arm.

“Wait.”

William did not look behind him. His bare feet moved silently over the cold stone, and his eyes remained open without blinking. When he passed beneath one of the wall torches, the light revealed the empty expression upon his face.

“He’s asleep,” Harper whispered.

“Not exactly,” Theo replied.

William reached an undecorated section of wall and stopped.

The map showed his name pressed against the end of the corridor. No doorway or branching passage appeared beyond him.

William raised one hand and placed his palm against the stone.

Black lines spread outward from beneath his fingers.

They moved through the mortar in thin, crooked paths before joining into symbols Daryan could not read. The markings pulsed once. The wall opened around William without any stone shifting or doorway appearing. His body passed directly through the solid surface as though he had stepped into dark water.

The black symbols vanished behind him.

William’s name disappeared from the map.

Natalia ran toward the wall.

“Natalia,” Ivan called.

She struck the stone with both hands. “William!”

Her voice echoed through the corridor, but nothing answered from the other side.

Theo pressed the map flat against the wall. “There’s no passage here.”

“There has to be,” Parker said. “We watched him enter it.”

Daryan approached the wall more slowly. A prickling sensation moved along his arms before concentrating inside both hands. Blue-white sparks traced across his fingertips.

Geoffrey immediately noticed. “Daryan?”

“There’s magic in the wall,” Daryan said.

“There’s magic everywhere in this castle,” Harper reminded him.

“This feels different.”

The sparks intensified as he moved closer. They jumped between his fingers and sank briefly into the stone before disappearing. Whatever concealed the corridor reacted to the power inside him.

Daryan drew his wand.

Geoffrey stepped beside him. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

“No.”

“That isn’t reassuring.”

“I can feel the enchantment.”

Daryan pointed his wand toward the place where William had vanished. He concentrated upon the ordinary magic Professor Maryann had taught them during Charms and pictured the concealed passage being revealed.

“Revelio.”

A pale light escaped the end of his wand and spread across the stones. For a moment, nothing happened. Several black markings then flickered between the blocks before fading again.

“It worked,” Parker said.

“Only partly,” Theo corrected.

Daryan tightened his grip upon the wand. The enchantment had resisted the spell, but he had felt it move beneath the false image of the wall. Layers of magic covered the passage, folded together so tightly that an ordinary Revealing Charm could not separate them.

The blue sparks returned to his fingertips.

Daryan remembered standing inside the practice chamber several days earlier with both hands extended toward the targets. The power had responded when Eruman reminded him of the people he wanted to protect. It had moved through both arms and obeyed the direction of his hands, even though he had released far more of it than Professor Vale intended.

He had wondered whether the same power could move through his wand.

Now, he allowed himself to find out.

Daryan raised the wand again and focused upon Natalia’s fear for William. He imagined the older boy being led deeper into the hidden passage while the unseen man from the fireplace demanded that he open the way. The pressure beneath Daryan’s skin gathered immediately.

Blue-white electricity danced across both hands.

The current wound around his wrists and traveled along the wand. The wood became hot beneath his fingers as his ordinary magic and the unknown power pressed together.

“Daryan,” Geoffrey warned.

“I’m all right.”

He aimed at the center of the wall.

“Revelio!”

Blue-white light erupted from the wand and struck the stones.

The force of the impact exploded outward.

A violent wave of magic tore through the corridor, whipping their robes around their bodies and forcing everyone except Daryan several steps backward. Black symbols blazed into view across the entire wall. Hundreds of layered incantations overlapped one another, some buried inside the false stones and others suspended above them like burning handwriting.

The portraits awakened at once.

Painted witches and wizards cried out as the blue-white light flooded their frames. A woman in a red gown abandoned her chair and ran through the edge of her painting. She appeared inside the neighboring landscape, shouting for everyone to wake up. An elderly wizard in a silver robe leaped from his bed and followed her through a succession of connected frames.

“Get the Headmaster!” the woman screamed as she disappeared into another painting. “Dark Magic in the western corridor!”

“The Headmaster!” the wizard shouted from farther along the gallery. “Find Headmaster Magreth!”

More painted figures fled their frames and raced through the castle’s network of portraits.

Harper looked from the empty paintings to Daryan. “They’re going for the Headmaster.”

“We need Professor Sylveran too,” Geoffrey said.

“I’ll get him,” Harper decided.

Before anyone could stop her, she turned and ran toward the staircase.

“Harper!” Parker called.

She looked back only long enough to answer him.

“You stay with them. I know where Professor Sylveran’s office is.”

Harper disappeared around the corner without realizing the paintings were already carrying their warning toward Eruman.

The black incantations stretched toward Daryan’s wand like grasping fingers. The wood grew painfully hot inside his hand, but he refused to release it. He pushed more power through the Revealing Charm.

The other magic surged through both arms. Blue-white sparks scattered across the floor and climbed the surrounding walls. The black symbols twisted violently before breaking apart one after another. Fragments of shadow burned away in the air as the final concealment charms collapsed.

The image of the stone wall flickered.

For several seconds, it shifted between solid rock and something thin enough for Daryan to see through. A broad corridor appeared beyond it before the stones returned, only to dissolve again beneath another surge of blue-white power.

The false wall burst apart into pale mist.

The expanding cloud rolled over the students and poured into the passage before thinning beneath the blue flames mounted along both sides of the hidden corridor. The passage was much wider than Daryan expected, easily broad enough for several adults to walk beside one another. It extended in a straight line through an area that had appeared solid upon every map of Ilvermorny.

William was already nearing the far end.

His bare feet moved steadily across the worn stone floor, and he showed no reaction to the explosion behind him. The blue flames cast shifting light across his robe as he continued toward a circular chamber barely visible in the distance.

“Natalia, wait,” Ivan warned.

She was already running.

“William!”

Her voice traveled along the passage, but William did not turn.

Daryan followed with Geoffrey beside him. Theo, Ivan, and Parker entered behind them.

The enchanted map changed the moment Theo crossed the threshold. Fresh lines flowed across the parchment, drawing the wide, straight corridor through an area that had previously appeared empty. Their names gathered near its entrance, while William’s name reappeared close to the far end.

“It’s adding the passage,” Theo said as he hurried after Natalia.

“Because we found it,” Ivan replied. “The map only updates when one of us enters an unknown part of the castle.”

Daryan barely heard them. Small blue flames burned inside iron brackets along both walls, filling the passage with the same cold light he remembered from his dreams. The broad corridor was unmistakable now that he stood within it.

His hands began sparking again.

Geoffrey moved closer. “Is it reacting to the corridor?”

Daryan watched William disappear into the chamber at the far end.

“It recognizes this place.”

The blue flames bent toward Daryan as he passed them. They produced no smoke and gave off almost no warmth, but each flame stretched in his direction before returning upright after he moved beyond it.

Natalia reached the end of the corridor first.

The others entered the circular chamber behind her. William stood near the far wall with his back turned toward them. His bare feet rested inside a ring of black symbols, and both arms hung loosely at his sides.

No cabinet stood in front of him.

Daryan knew it was there.

The pressure inside his hands pulled toward the wall, responding to something concealed beneath another set of enchantments. A low whisper moved through the chamber.

“Open.”

Daryan stopped.

The voice did not come from William. It surrounded them, passing through the walls and beneath the floor.

Natalia stepped toward her brother. “William?”

He did not respond.

Theo raised his wand. “Finite Incantatem.”

The spell struck William’s back and dispersed across an invisible barrier. William’s robe shifted from the impact, but his body did not move.

“It’s protected,” Theo said.

Ivan pointed his wand toward William’s arms. “Incarcerous.”

Ropes burst from Ivan’s wand and crossed the chamber. They came within several feet of William before black light flashed around him. The ropes disintegrated into ash.

Parker drew his wand. “What kind of spell does that?”

“One we shouldn’t be fighting without a professor,” Geoffrey answered.

Natalia entered the ring of symbols.

Ivan reached for her, but she moved beyond his grasp and seized William’s arm.

“William, wake up!”

The black markings flared beneath their feet.

William’s head turned slowly. His unfocused eyes moved across Natalia’s face, and something flickered inside them.

“Natalia?”

Relief broke through her fear. “Yes. It’s me.”

William’s expression twisted with confusion. “Why are you here?”

A violent force exploded from the ring.

Natalia was thrown backward. Geoffrey caught her before she struck the floor, although the impact knocked both of them into Ivan. Theo and Parker were driven against the curved wall. Daryan remained standing only because the blue-white magic surrounding his hands pressed against the unseen force.

William turned back toward the empty wall.

“Open,” the whisper repeated.

The power inside Daryan responded.

Both hands rose without his permission. Blue electricity flowed through his fingers and crossed the chamber, revealing the outline of something tall and rectangular hidden within the stone.

“No,” Daryan whispered.

The cabinet emerged one piece at a time. Tarnished handles appeared first, followed by dark wooden doors covered in scratches. Black incantations surrounded it, hiding the remainder of the object behind the wall.

Daryan fought to lower his arms. His muscles refused to obey.

The blue force gathered across his palms and struck the final concealment charm. Black symbols ignited around the cabinet before shattering beneath the powerful magic. Pieces of the illusion tore away, exposing the cabinet completely.

The moment the last enchantment broke, Daryan’s body became still.

Coldness entered his arms and spread across his chest. His wand remained gripped in his right hand, but he could not lift it. The whispers filled his thoughts until he could no longer separate them from his own voice.

“Daryan.”

The cabinet doors trembled.

“The road remembers you.”

William stepped closer.

“He is coming.”

Natalia struggled free from Geoffrey and ran toward her brother. Ivan caught her around the waist before she could reenter the circle.

“Let me go!” she demanded.

“You’ll be thrown again,” Ivan warned her.

“He needs me!”

William raised his hands toward the cabinet handles.

“Let him through,” the voices whispered.

Daryan attempted to warn them, but his mouth would not move. The hidden connection that had once reached him through the gemstone now poured directly from the cabinet. It recognized the magic inside him. It had been waiting for him to expose the final enchantment.

Geoffrey released Natalia and ran toward William. He wrapped both arms around the older boy’s waist and pulled backward.

William barely reacted.

Theo and Parker seized William’s right arm while Ivan caught the left. Natalia moved in front of her brother and placed both hands against his face.

“William, look at me,” she pleaded. “You’re at Ilvermorny. You’re with me.”

William continued reaching for the cabinet.

“Daryan!” Geoffrey shouted. “Whatever it’s doing, fight it!”

The sound of Geoffrey’s voice penetrated the whispers.

Daryan remembered Eruman’s words inside the practice chamber several days earlier. Some futures are worth fighting for.

He pictured Geoffrey refusing to abandon him, Theo searching for answers, Ivan keeping watch beside his bed, and Natalia risking herself to reach her brother. Harper was running through the castle to find help, while Parker remained in the chamber despite barely understanding the danger surrounding them.

His friends were already fighting.

Daryan could fight too.

He tightened his fingers around his wand. The movement was small, but it belonged to him. He forced his wrist to turn and pointed the wand away from the cabinet.

The whispers became furious.

William jerked forward with sudden strength. Geoffrey lost his footing and was dragged several feet across the floor. Theo and Parker struggled to hold William’s arm, while Ivan planted both feet against the stones.

Natalia kept her face in front of her brother’s.

“Please, William.”

His eyes focused upon her again.

Fear filled them.

“Natalia,” he gasped.

“I’m here.”

“You shouldn’t be here.”

The cabinet handles turned.

A man’s voice emerged from beyond the doors. It was the same voice Daryan had heard speaking through the common-room fireplace.

“Open the way.”

William pulled the handles.

The cabinet doors flew open.

A wave of dark energy erupted into the chamber. Geoffrey, Theo, Ivan, Parker, and Natalia were thrown across the floor. Daryan’s connection to the cabinet snapped, and he collapsed to his knees as the voices vanished from his mind.

The interior of the cabinet did not contain shelves or a wooden back. A long corridor extended beyond it, distorted by shifting darkness and flashes of silver light. The image twisted like a reflection upon disturbed water.

William stood directly before the opening.

He looked around the chamber as though awakening in an unfamiliar place. His gaze found Natalia where she had fallen beside Geoffrey.

Understanding and terror crossed his face.

“You have to run,” William told her.

A green light appeared within the cabinet.

“Avada Kedavra.”

The curse struck William in the chest.

His body lifted from the floor and fell backward. He landed several feet from the cabinet without attempting to catch himself.

Natalia screamed.

She crawled toward him and pulled his head into her lap. William’s eyes remained open, but they no longer recognized her. Natalia pressed both hands against his face and called his name again and again.

Daryan could not move.

Footsteps sounded from inside the cabinet.

A man stepped through the opening.

He appeared older than the person Daryan remembered from the photographs. Gray streaked his dark hair and covered much of the short beard surrounding his mouth. Ash stained the edges of his robe, and deep lines had formed around his eyes. His wand remained pointed toward William’s body as he entered the chamber.

The stranger lowered it slowly.

Daryan had seen the same sour expression inside Aryanna’s Christmas family album. Time had changed the man’s face, but it had not changed enough to hide his identity.

“I know you,” Daryan said.

The man looked toward him.

“You’re Quinn Fallory.”

Recognition entered Quinn’s eyes.

Daryan stared at the man his family believed had died years earlier.

“You’re supposed to be dead.”

Quinn smiled.

“Surprise.”

 

 

Chapter 24

Echoes Through Every World

Quinn’s smile remained as Natalia held William against her.

Her brother’s head rested in her lap, with one side of his face pressed against the front of her robes. Natalia kept one hand against his cheek as though the warmth of her palm might somehow reach him. William’s eyes remained open and empty. The green curse had left no visible injury, but the unnatural stillness of his body made the truth impossible to deny.

Daryan remained on his knees several feet away. His wand was still clutched in his right hand, although his fingers had begun trembling from the effort of holding it. The power he used to expose the passage and cabinet had left his arms aching beneath the skin.

Quinn looked down at William.

“Why did you kill him?” Daryan asked.

Quinn shrugged indifferently. “He wasn’t useful to me anymore.”

Natalia slowly lifted her head.

Grief twisted into rage across her face. She lowered William carefully against the floor before reaching for her wand.

“You killed my brother!”

Quinn barely glanced toward her.

Natalia pointed her wand at his chest. “Incendio!”

A ball of orange fire erupted from the tip and crossed the chamber. Quinn moved his wand in a lazy circle, redirecting the flames into the curved wall.

“Incendio!”

A second fireball raced toward him. Quinn flicked it aside without changing his expression. The flames struck the floor and rolled across the black symbols before disappearing.

Natalia stepped between William and Quinn.

“Incendio!”

Her third attack divided into several flames. They approached Quinn from different directions, but he swept his wand through the air and brushed them aside as though they were sparks rising from an ordinary fire.

Firelight passed over his face.

Quinn chuckled.

Natalia screamed and raised her wand again. Quinn appeared to grow bored. He gave his wand a short flick, and an invisible force struck Natalia in the chest.

She flew backward into Theo.

The impact threw them both against the floor. Theo wrapped one arm around Natalia before they landed and took most of the collision against his shoulder. Her wand skidded across the stones and stopped near William’s hand.

“Natalia!” Ivan ran toward them.

Quinn turned away from her as though she no longer mattered.

Geoffrey raised his wand. “Expelliarmus!”

A red spell crossed the chamber. Quinn blocked it without looking, but Parker attacked from the other side before the light had faded. Theo pushed himself upright and added a third spell while Ivan dragged Natalia away from the black circle.

The attacks struck Quinn’s shield together.

The transparent barrier rippled and disappeared.

Quinn remained unharmed.

“First-years,” he said with quiet amusement. “How terrifying.”

Daryan forced himself upright and aimed his wand at the man’s legs.

“Impedimenta!”

The Slowing Charm reached Quinn before he turned. It wrapped around his knees and stiffened the lower portion of his robes.

Quinn looked down at the spell.

Daryan fired a Disarming Charm at his wand hand.

Quinn slashed his wand through the air. The slowing enchantment shattered, and the red spell changed direction before striking the ceiling. Stone dust rained across his shoulders.

Geoffrey levitated a loose piece of rock and sent it toward Quinn’s head. Quinn stepped aside, allowing the stone to pass him and disappear through the open cabinet.

The distorted world beyond the doors swallowed it without making a sound.

Theo helped Natalia sit upright. “Are you hurt?”

“He killed William,” Natalia answered.

“I know.”

“I have to stop him.”

“You can barely breathe.”

Natalia attempted to rise anyway. Ivan knelt beside her and caught her arm.

“Stay with William,” Ivan told her. “We’ll keep him away from you.”

Quinn watched the exchange with an expression of patient curiosity.

Parker pointed his wand at the older wizard. “Why are you just standing there?”

“I have waited a very long time to return to this world,” Quinn replied. “I believe I can spare a few moments to enjoy it.”

He directed his wand toward Parker.

Daryan reacted before Quinn cast the spell.

“Protego!”

A shield formed in front of Parker. Quinn’s curse struck the barrier with enough force to cover it in cracks of white light. The shield shattered, but Parker remained unharmed.

The impact drove Daryan backward into Geoffrey. Blue-white sparks snapped across the fingers holding his wand before vanishing again.

Quinn noticed them.

His amusement deepened.

Theo attacked from near the floor. Ivan followed from beside Natalia, forcing Quinn to raise another shield. Parker cast a Leg-Locker Curse while Geoffrey sent two more stones toward Quinn from opposite directions.

Quinn turned within the center of their attacks.

He deflected Theo’s spell into Parker’s curse, causing the two bolts of magic to destroy one another. One of Geoffrey’s stones crumbled into sand before reaching him. Quinn caught the other with his free hand and allowed it to drop beside his shoe.

Ivan’s spell struck the shield and dissolved across its surface.

“You’re playing with us,” Geoffrey said.

“Very observant.”

Quinn sent a red curse toward him.

Daryan saw the spell approaching before Geoffrey did. Fear tightened around his chest, and the unknown magic answered immediately.

Blue-white electricity erupted around Daryan’s free hand.

He threw his palm toward the curse.

A bolt of blue-white power crossed the chamber and struck Quinn’s spell in midair. The red light shattered. Daryan’s magic continued toward Quinn and collided with his shield.

For the first time, the transparent barrier bent inward.

Quinn’s shoes slid several inches across the floor. He strengthened the shield before it collapsed, but his amusement disappeared as he stared at the blue-white power dancing between Daryan’s fingers.

Recognition entered Quinn’s face, followed by unmistakable hunger.

“Ancient Magic.”

Daryan kept his wand raised in his right hand. His left palm tingled painfully from releasing the blast.

“What does that mean?” Daryan asked.

“It means the power I felt was even rarer than I imagined.”

“When did you feel it?”

“The first time you touched your wand.”

Daryan tightened his grip upon the warm wood.

Quinn studied him with open fascination. “Do you have any idea what happened in that shop? Your Ancient Magic echoed through every world. Most witches and wizards barely disturb the space surrounding them, but you struck the walls between realities like a bell.”

Daryan remembered standing inside the Hushnote wand shop while magic surged through him. He remembered the light, the warmth, and the certainty that the wand recognized something he had not known existed.

“You felt me in Hushnote?”

“I felt the echo in my own world’s version of it,” Quinn answered. “I followed the resonance from there to another place in Nashville. I never discovered what occupied that location in your world, but the power appeared there more than once.”

Daryan thought about his apartment. He remembered practicing simple magic under Emily’s supervision and the excitement he felt whenever his wand produced light or lifted a small object from the table.

“Then you came here,” Quinn continued. “The echo led me back to Ilvermorny.”

“You followed me to the school,” Daryan said.

Quinn gave a quiet laugh. “I had already returned to Ilvermorny, or what remained of it in my world. The cabinet arrived there with me when the original passage collapsed. Its twin remained in this world until those still loyal to my work delivered it to this school.”

“The men in Hushnote,” Geoffrey said.

Quinn’s eyes shifted toward him, but he did not confirm the statement.

Theo rose beside Natalia. “Why bring the second cabinet here?”

“Proximity,” Quinn replied. “Two versions of the same object occupying the same location in neighboring worlds. I believed placing the cabinets near each other during a total lunar eclipse would provide enough power to reconnect them.”

Daryan glanced toward the ruined corridor visible between the open doors. “It didn’t work.”

“Not completely. The eclipse allowed magic to pass between them, but the connection remained too unstable for a person to cross. I could touch this world, but I could not enter it.”

“You sent the dreams,” Daryan said.

“At first, I was directing my magic toward the source I felt in Hushnote. I did not know who possessed it. Once you arrived at Ilvermorny, I was able to reach you through the weakened passage.”

Daryan remembered the cabinet waiting inside his dreams. He heard again the voices calling his name and felt the handles moving beneath his fingertips.

“You made me sleepwalk.”

“I learned that your mind became more receptive while you slept. Moving your body required greater effort, but I needed to bring the source of that power closer to the cabinet.”

“You could have killed him,” Geoffrey said.

“That would have been inconvenient.”

Geoffrey’s expression hardened.

Natalia had crawled back to William. She pulled his head into her lap again and held him close while staring at Quinn through her tears.

“How did you reach my brother?”

Quinn’s attention shifted toward her.

“I did very little. William opened his own mind.”

“He would never help someone like you.”

“Your brother found a book that promised to identify dimensions existing beside this one. A spell was concealed among its pages. William believed it would allow him to see another world.”

Quinn glanced toward William’s body.

“Instead, it allowed another world to see him.”

Natalia’s face became pale. “You controlled him.”

“At first, I merely observed. His memories revealed your family vault, the artifacts your ancestors hoarded, and a necklace containing a stone capable of carrying magic through protected boundaries.”

“My mother’s necklace,” Natalia whispered.

“The gemstone presented an opportunity. It could strengthen the connection between my magic and the source I had followed across Nashville.”

Daryan remembered awakening with the package beside his bed. William had entered their dormitory unnoticed, placed the stone inside the drawer, and left while the enchantment erased every question Daryan might have asked.

“You sent William to get it,” Daryan said.

“I showed him what would happen to his family if he refused.”

Natalia’s arms tightened around her brother. “He was afraid of you.”

“He should have been.”

“He tried to stop helping you.”

“Yes,” Quinn said. “You witnessed the cost of disappointing me.”

Natalia reached for her wand again. Theo placed his hand over hers before she could lift it.

Quinn looked back toward Daryan. “The gemstone gave me direct access to your mind. It allowed me to show you the path, strengthen the dreams, and draw your Ancient Magic toward the cabinet. I expected the connection to open the way before anyone discovered the stone.”

“It almost killed him,” Geoffrey said.

“A regrettable miscalculation.”

Daryan fired a Disarming Charm.

Quinn blocked it, but Geoffrey attacked from the opposite side. Theo and Parker joined them while Ivan raised a shield in front of Natalia and William.

The chamber filled with red, white, and golden light.

Quinn stepped between the spells without any visible urgency. He redirected Parker’s attack into the wall, ducked beneath Theo’s curse, and caught Geoffrey’s spell upon the end of his wand. With a twisting motion, he sent it back toward the boys.

Daryan raised his wand. “Protego!”

The shield caught the returning spell, but Quinn struck it again before Daryan could lower his arm. The barrier shattered and threw Daryan across the floor.

Geoffrey caught the back of his robes before his head struck the stones.

Quinn aimed at them.

Ancient Magic surged from Daryan’s right hand and entered his wand.

He cast without choosing a spell.

Blue-white power erupted from the tip in a concentrated stream. Quinn raised a shield, but the Ancient Magic tore through its center and forced him to leap aside.

The blast struck the wall behind him. Cracks spread through the stone, glowing blue for several seconds before fading.

Quinn stared at Daryan’s wand.

“The power follows both paths,” he murmured. “Through your body and through the wand.”

“I don’t care what it does,” Daryan said as Geoffrey helped him stand. “You’re not using it.”

“You misunderstand. I already have.”

Quinn gestured toward the open cabinet. Darkness rotated between its doors, revealing fragments of the ruined Ilvermorny beyond it.

“Your Ancient Magic found the passage. It broke the enchantments and completed what the eclipse could not.”

“It won’t stay open,” Daryan said.

“No,” Quinn agreed. “Not yet.”

A curse shot from his wand.

Daryan attempted to shield himself, but the spell changed direction before reaching him and struck Geoffrey instead. His friend flew backward and landed near the entrance to the chamber.

“Geoffrey!”

Daryan’s fear became an immediate burst of power.

Electricity raced across both hands and traveled through his wand. He thrust the tip toward Quinn, releasing a blue-white bolt strong enough to illuminate the entire hidden corridor.

Quinn’s shield appeared a moment too late.

The Ancient Magic struck its surface and drove him several steps backward. Cracks of blue light spread through the barrier before it broke apart. Quinn’s robe blackened across one shoulder, and a thin line of blood appeared along his cheek.

Daryan ran to Geoffrey.

His friend groaned and rolled onto his side.

“I’m all right,” Geoffrey insisted.

“You hit the floor.”

“I’ve done that before.”

“You usually don’t get thrown first.”

Theo and Parker moved between them and Quinn. Ivan extended his shield across Natalia and William while Daryan helped Geoffrey sit upright.

Quinn touched the blood upon his cheek.

His eyes moved toward the entrance of the hidden corridor.

Daryan followed his gaze.

Four figures were running toward them beneath the blue flames. Eruman approached with his wand already drawn, with Professor Sylveran beside him. Harper struggled to match their longer strides. An unfamiliar wizard in travel-worn robes ran on Eruman’s other side, a leather satchel striking against his hip.

The paintings must have reached Eruman at nearly the same moment Harper found Professor Sylveran. Somehow, the unfamiliar wizard had joined them along the way.

Relief crossed Geoffrey’s face. “They found us.”

Quinn stopped smiling.

He turned toward the passage and swept his wand through the air.

Black-and-purple fire erupted across the corridor.

The flames stretched from one wall to the other before surging toward the ceiling, sealing the chamber away from the approaching adults. Purple veins twisted through the black blaze like lightning inside a storm.

Harper stopped before reaching the barrier. Professor Sylveran caught her shoulder and pulled her back as the fire spread across the floor.

Eruman attacked immediately.

A burst of silver light struck the flames and tore a wide opening through them. The black-and-purple fire curled around the damage and sealed itself before anyone could pass.

“Move away from the barrier!” Sylveran shouted.

The fire distorted his voice, but the children understood him.

Quinn turned his wand toward Daryan.

The first-years attacked together.

Theo and Parker cast from opposite sides while Ivan maintained his protection around Natalia and William. Geoffrey levitated several loose stones from the floor and hurled them toward Quinn. Daryan sent an ordinary Disarming Charm through his wand.

Quinn’s shield absorbed the spells.

He swept Geoffrey’s stones aside and answered with a wave of force that struck the children at once. Theo and Parker were thrown against opposite walls. Geoffrey fell beside Daryan, while Ivan’s shield bent inward around Natalia and William.

Quinn walked toward Daryan.

“The passage requires an anchor,” he said. “Your Ancient Magic will provide it.”

Daryan raised his wand from the floor. “I said no.”

“Your willingness is unnecessary.”

Quinn’s wand moved.

Thin black ropes erupted from the stones and wrapped themselves around Daryan’s ankles. More coiled around his waist and wrists before pulling him toward the cabinet.

Geoffrey seized Daryan beneath his arms.

Theo caught one of the black ropes and attempted to cut it with his wand. Parker attacked another, but every severed strand divided into two replacements.

“Let him go!” Geoffrey shouted.

Quinn continued drawing Daryan toward the open doors.

Coldness poured from the cabinet. The parallel Ilvermorny sharpened beyond its threshold. Broken towers rose beneath a colorless sky, while black clouds circled above the ruined castle.

Daryan aimed his wand at the restraints.

“Finite!”

The ordinary counter-spell weakened them without breaking them. Blue-white sparks traveled from Daryan’s fingers into his wand and entered the dark ropes.

Ancient Magic tore through the bindings.

The strands burst apart, and the recoil forced Quinn backward.

A black curse immediately left Quinn’s wand.

It raced toward Theo.

Daryan’s magic reacted before he could raise his wand. A blue shield formed between Theo and the curse, flickering like electricity trapped against glass. Quinn’s spell struck it and shattered into dark fragments.

The ancient shield vanished as quickly as it appeared.

Daryan stared at the empty air.

“I didn’t cast that.”

“Your Ancient Magic protects whatever you fear losing,” Quinn said. “Imagine what it could do if you stopped resisting it.”

He released another wave of force. Daryan, Geoffrey, Theo, and Parker were driven toward the open cabinet.

Ivan’s shield finally collapsed.

Natalia bent over William as the remaining force passed across them. Her body protected his face from the dust and fragments of stone falling from the ceiling.

A movement inside the nearest wall bracket caught Parker’s attention.

Small shapes curled within the blue flames. Their narrow tails wrapped around the iron, while their glowing bodies shifted beneath the fire.

“Those are salamanders,” Parker said.

Quinn raised his wand toward Daryan again.

Parker crawled toward the closest bracket and opened its small iron door.

The blue salamander lifted its head. Silver eyes studied Parker before the creature leaped into the chamber.

The flame followed it.

A ribbon of blue fire stretched behind the salamander as it raced toward the next bracket. The creature inside joined it, followed by another from the opposite wall.

The salamanders circled Quinn.

Blue flames rose around him without touching any of the children. Quinn turned his wand toward the creatures, giving Theo and Geoffrey enough time to pull Daryan away from the cabinet.

Parker opened another bracket.

More salamanders emerged.

They raced through the chamber in widening circles, surrounding Quinn with twisting streams of blue fire. His robes began smoking where the flames passed close to his body.

Quinn slashed his wand through the air. A black wave scattered the salamanders, but the creatures reappeared within the blue flames along the walls before leaping toward him again.

Outside the chamber, Eruman, Professor Sylveran, and the unfamiliar wizard continued attacking the black-and-purple barrier. Silver, red, and pale-gold light flashed beyond the flames. Harper remained behind the three adults, her wand raised while they worked to reach the chamber.

The barrier began to weaken.

Quinn saw it too.

He sent a dark spell into the floor.

Black lines spread through the circular chamber. The salamanders scattered as the stones shook beneath the children. Several blue flames extinguished, darkening half the room.

The cabinet doors opened wider.

Wind rushed toward the parallel dimension, carrying dust, broken stones, and extinguished sparks through the threshold. The darkness between the two worlds rotated faster.

Daryan felt the Ancient Magic awaken across his hands.

This time, it did not attack Quinn.

Blue-white light spread through Daryan’s vision, revealing narrow strands of magic surrounding the cabinet. They extended from its corners into the walls, floor, and ceiling. More reached through the doorway and disappeared into the ruined world beyond it.

The cabinet was not holding the passage open by itself.

The magical strands were anchoring one Ilvermorny to the other.

Quinn followed Daryan’s gaze.

“You can see them.”

Daryan did not answer.

“That is what I felt in Hushnote,” Quinn continued. “Ancient Magic sees through the lies separating one reality from another. You were a beacon, Daryan. The cabinet did not choose you, and neither did the stone. I did.”

The black-and-purple barrier exploded inward.

Eruman entered through the falling fire with Professor Sylveran beside him. The unfamiliar wizard followed them, surrounded by a pale-gold shield. Harper remained close behind him.

Eruman took in William’s body, the injured first-years, and Quinn standing before the open cabinet.

His expression became cold.

“Professor Houst, protect the children!”

The unfamiliar wizard moved immediately.

He crossed the chamber and swept his wand outward. A broad golden shield curved around Natalia, William, Harper, Parker, Theo, Ivan, and Geoffrey.

Daryan was several feet beyond its edge.

Quinn’s wand cut through the air before Professor Houst could extend the protection around him.

Black strands erupted from the floor and wrapped around Daryan’s wrist, waist, and ankles. They tightened violently and dragged him away from the golden shield.

Daryan thrust his wand at Quinn.

“Expelliarmus!”

Quinn blocked the red spell as the bindings pulled Daryan forward.

Blue-white sparks raced beneath the black strands. The Ancient Magic spread across Daryan’s arms and burned through the restraints, tearing them apart before Quinn could drag him more than a few feet.

Eruman attacked at the same moment.

A bolt of white light struck Quinn’s shield and threw him backward toward the cabinet.

Professor Sylveran moved beside Eruman. The two men sent spells from opposite directions, forcing Quinn to strengthen the barriers surrounding him.

Professor Houst remained with the children. He did not speak as he reinforced the golden shield and moved everyone farther from the open cabinet.

Geoffrey pressed both hands against the inside of the barrier. “Daryan!”

“I’m all right,” Daryan called.

He raised his wand and attacked Quinn from the side.

Quinn deflected Daryan’s Disarming Charm before turning his wand toward him again. A black chain appeared around Daryan’s ankle and pulled his foot from beneath him.

Daryan struck the floor.

The chain dragged him toward the cabinet, but blue sparks erupted where the dark metal touched his skin. The links cracked and fell apart before dissolving into smoke.

Quinn’s expression tightened.

Daryan rolled onto one knee and fired another spell.

“Impedimenta!”

The charm struck Quinn’s left leg while he blocked Eruman’s attack. His knee stiffened, disrupting his balance long enough for Professor Sylveran’s spell to break through his shield and tear the sleeve of his robe.

Quinn released a furious burst of black light.

Eruman and Sylveran raised shields. Daryan attempted to do the same, but the force reached him before his spell formed.

The Ancient Magic reacted.

A blue-white barrier appeared around Daryan’s body. Quinn’s attack split against it and struck the walls on either side of him.

The shield vanished immediately afterward.

Daryan pushed himself upright again.

Quinn stared at him. “You cannot continue resisting forever.”

“I only have to keep doing it until they beat you.”

Eruman attacked with a beam of silver light. Quinn blocked it, but the force drove him several steps closer to the cabinet.

Professor Sylveran sent a red curse toward Quinn’s wand hand. Quinn twisted aside before answering with a black spell that struck Sylveran’s shield hard enough to make the professor stagger.

Daryan raised his wand.

“Expelliarmus!”

Quinn redirected the spell into the ceiling.

Daryan’s left hand flared as Quinn aimed at Eruman. Blue-white electricity leaped from his fingertips and struck Quinn’s wand arm. The man’s attack flew wide, passing above Eruman’s shoulder before exploding against the wall.

A thin line of smoke rose from Quinn’s sleeve.

He swung his wand toward Daryan.

Black ropes erupted from every side of the chamber. They twisted through the air and wrapped themselves around Daryan’s arms, chest, and legs.

The ropes lifted him from the floor.

Professor Houst extended the golden shield toward him, but Quinn’s restraints pulled Daryan above its curved edge and toward the cabinet.

Geoffrey ran to the boundary of the protection. Professor Houst caught him with one arm before he could leave it.

“Daryan!” Geoffrey shouted.

Daryan struggled against the ropes. They tightened until breathing became difficult.

His fear returned.

The Ancient Magic surged beneath his skin.

Blue-white cracks spread through the black restraints. The ropes resisted for several seconds before exploding into burning fragments.

Daryan fell.

Eruman used his wand to slow the descent, lowering him safely onto the stones.

Quinn’s attention remained fixed upon him.

“The passage wants your Ancient Magic,” Quinn said. “You feel it pulling at you.”

Daryan could feel the wormhole tugging against the power inside him. The cabinet wanted to complete the connection Quinn began. Each use of Ancient Magic sent another pulse through the chamber and strengthened the darkness rotating between the doors.

Daryan aimed his wand at Quinn.

“It isn’t getting any more.”

“You have been feeding it since you entered this corridor.”

Professor Sylveran glanced toward the cabinet before releasing a Blasting Curse.

The spell struck one of the wooden doors, splitting it from top to bottom.

The passage remained open.

The darkness beyond the broken frame expanded.

Destroying the cabinet would not be enough.

Eruman and Quinn exchanged another series of spells. Silver and black light collided above the circle of symbols, shaking the chamber with every impact. Quinn no longer played with his opponents. His wand moved rapidly as he blocked, countered, and continued directing restraints toward Daryan.

A shadow rose beneath Daryan’s feet and closed around both legs.

He felt the Ancient Magic rush downward. Blue-white light passed through his shoes and shattered the shadow before it could climb above his knees.

Quinn flicked his wand again.

Black cords appeared around Daryan’s wand arm and twisted his wrist toward the cabinet.

Daryan forced his hand in the opposite direction.

Ancient Magic traveled through the wand, burning the cords away before he aimed at Quinn.

A concentrated stream of blue-white power erupted from the tip.

Quinn raised his shield, but the Ancient Magic tore through its center and struck him in the chest. The impact lifted him from the floor and threw him against the cabinet.

One of his arms passed through the doorway.

The wind intensified around him.

Eruman aimed his wand at Quinn’s chest. A solid beam of silver light pinned him against the broken cabinet.

“Daryan, get behind the shield!” Eruman ordered.

Daryan attempted to step toward Professor Houst.

The pull from the cabinet tightened around the magic inside him.

Blue-white light spread through Daryan’s vision. Narrow strands appeared around the cabinet, extending from its corners into the walls, floor, and ceiling. More reached through the open doorway and disappeared into the ruined world beyond it.

Some of the strands glowed silver. Others pulsed with Quinn’s black-and-purple magic. Several were already threaded with Daryan’s blue-white power.

The cabinets were no longer holding the passage open by themselves.

The magical strands were anchoring one Ilvermorny to the other.

Daryan stopped moving.

“They’re holding the doorway open.”

Professor Sylveran looked toward him. “What is?”

“Lines of magic. They’re connected to the walls and the other school.”

Sylveran followed Daryan’s gaze but showed no sign that he could see them.

Quinn fought against Eruman’s spell. “The boy opened the passage. His Ancient Magic has already begun anchoring it.”

Daryan looked down.

Blue-white energy had spread from his shoes into the black circle beneath the cabinet. It moved through the floor and joined the strands binding the two worlds together.

“He’s right,” Daryan said.

Geoffrey pressed closer to the golden shield. “Don’t say that.”

“My magic is connected to it.”

Professor Sylveran aimed at the cabinet and released another Blasting Curse. The spell shattered one door and tore a large section from the cabinet’s side.

The wormhole continued rotating.

“Destroying the cabinet isn’t enough,” Daryan said. “We have to break the anchors.”

Quinn sent a black curse toward him.

Daryan raised his wand, but Professor Houst extended the golden shield in time. The attack struck its surface and rippled across the barrier.

Houst kept one hand raised toward the children while using his wand to widen the protection around Daryan. He still did not speak.

Quinn cast again.

Black strands slid beneath the golden shield and wrapped around Daryan’s ankles.

Professor Houst attempted to sever them, but Quinn reinforced the bindings faster than the unfamiliar professor could destroy them.

Daryan’s Ancient Magic rushed into the strands.

They disintegrated beneath him.

Quinn sent more from the wall behind Daryan. The ropes wrapped around his shoulders and pulled him backward, but a flare of blue-white light raced across them and burned them away.

Every failed attempt made Quinn’s attacks more violent.

Dark chains shot from the cabinet and wound around Daryan’s waist. Daryan fired an ordinary Severing Charm through his wand while the Ancient Magic attacked the chains from within. Both forms of magic struck together and shattered the restraints.

Daryan turned his wand toward Quinn.

“Stupefy!”

The red spell struck Quinn’s shield while Eruman’s silver beam continued pressing him against the cabinet. Professor Sylveran attacked from the other side, spreading cracks across Quinn’s remaining defenses.

Quinn could no longer protect himself and reach for Daryan at the same time.

His second arm passed through the doorway.

Cold darkness curled around his body.

“The anchors, Daryan!” Eruman called.

Daryan lifted both hands. His wand remained in his right one, while blue-white sparks gathered across his empty left palm.

The magical strands brightened throughout his altered vision.

There were too many to strike separately. They crossed one another around the cabinet, binding the passage to the chamber and to the ruined Ilvermorny beyond it.

Daryan remembered the protective lines inside the practice room. They had been designed to contain dangerous magic and nullify it before it could escape. His power had revealed those charms by pressing against all of them at once.

He could do the same thing here.

Quinn fought against Eruman’s spell. “If you destroy them, you may collapse both sides of the passage.”

“Then you should have stayed in yours,” Ivan said from behind Professor Houst’s shield.

Quinn’s gaze snapped toward him.

The moment of distraction allowed Eruman to increase the force pinning Quinn against the cabinet.

Daryan pointed his wand toward the upper anchors while raising his left hand toward those beneath the floor.

“Revelio!”

Ordinary magic traveled through his wand. Ancient Magic followed it, turning the Revealing Charm blue-white as it spread across the chamber.

Every anchor became visible.

Geoffrey, Theo, Ivan, Natalia, Parker, and Harper stared as hundreds of glowing strands appeared around the cabinet. Professor Houst’s expression changed, but he maintained the shield without speaking.

Professor Sylveran understood immediately.

He aimed his wand toward the strands connected to the walls.

“Finite Incantatem!”

Several anchors snapped.

The chamber shook violently.

Quinn shouted and tried to pull himself away from the cabinet. Eruman maintained the silver beam, forcing him deeper through the doorway.

Sylveran struck another cluster of anchors. The lines broke apart in showers of white sparks, and portions of the ruined world vanished behind rolling darkness.

Quinn thrust his wand toward Daryan again.

Hundreds of black threads shot from the broken cabinet.

Professor Houst’s golden shield caught most of them, but several pierced the barrier and wrapped around Daryan’s wrists. Others closed around his chest and pulled him toward the collapsing passage.

Daryan’s Ancient Magic fought back immediately.

Blue-white light raced through every thread touching him. The black strands tightened, attempting to drain the power from his body, while the Ancient Magic burned through them from within.

Daryan raised his wand despite the restraint around his wrist.

“Finite!”

The ordinary spell passed into the bindings. Ancient Magic followed it, and the strands exploded away from him.

The recoil nearly knocked Daryan from his feet.

Professor Houst caught his shoulder and steadied him before returning both hands to the shield.

The wormhole pulled more power from Daryan as it destabilized. His knees weakened, but Geoffrey pushed through the golden barrier and moved behind him.

Professor Houst attempted to stop him, but Geoffrey slipped beyond his reach.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” Geoffrey said as he caught Daryan beneath one arm.

“I’m the only one who can reach all of them.”

“Then I’m holding you while you do it.”

Theo followed Geoffrey through the shield and moved to Daryan’s other side. Ivan remained within the protection, keeping himself between Natalia and the falling debris. Harper and Parker helped Natalia move William farther from the cabinet without taking him from her.

Quinn’s body was halfway through the doorway.

“You have no idea what exists beyond your world!” he shouted. “I could show you realities where magic was never hidden. Worlds where no one created laws to restrain what we were meant to become.”

Daryan looked at William lying motionless in Natalia’s arms.

“You killed him.”

“He was weak.”

“No,” Natalia said through her tears. “He was scared, and you used him.”

Daryan felt Geoffrey and Theo holding him steady.

His Ancient Magic gathered in both hands.

Quinn’s wand moved one final time.

A thick black tether shot from the cabinet and wrapped around Daryan’s waist. The collapsing passage pulled him forward, dragging Geoffrey and Theo with him.

Daryan’s shoes slid across the stones.

Professor Houst strengthened the shield behind them, preventing the wind from pulling the others toward the cabinet. Sylveran attacked the tether, but Quinn’s magic repaired itself as quickly as the professor could damage it.

The Ancient Magic surged through Daryan’s body.

Blue-white light burned beneath the tether.

Daryan directed the power through his wand and free palm at the same time. One stream entered Quinn’s binding spell, while the other spread through the floor and into the dimensional anchors.

The tether burst apart.

Daryan raised both arms toward the glowing strands. The blue-white light touched every remaining anchor.

Quinn’s expression changed.

“Stop!”

Daryan closed both hands.

The anchors shattered.

A deafening crack passed through the chamber. The cabinet collapsed inward as though crushed by an invisible force. Darkness swallowed Quinn’s body, tearing him from Eruman’s spell and dragging him through the broken frame.

Quinn thrust one hand into the chamber.

Black ropes wrapped around Daryan’s wrist.

The collapsing passage pulled him forward.

Geoffrey and Theo tightened their hold, but Daryan’s shoes slid across the floor. Ivan grabbed Theo around the waist. Parker caught Geoffrey’s robes, while Harper seized Parker’s arm.

Daryan’s Ancient Magic raced along the final restraint.

The black rope cracked.

Professor Sylveran struck it with a silver spell at the same moment.

The binding snapped.

Eruman drove his wand into the center of the collapsing doorway.

White light filled the cabinet.

The remaining image of Quinn disappeared.

The cabinet imploded.

Wood, darkness, and blue-white sparks twisted together before collapsing into a single point. The point flickered above the floor and vanished with a soft rush of air.

Silence fell across the chamber.

The black symbols beneath the cabinet faded. The surviving blue flames returned to their normal shape, and the salamanders curled inside their brackets as though nothing had happened.

Professor Houst lowered his shield.

Daryan allowed his arms to fall. The Ancient Magic disappeared from his vision, and his hands stopped glowing. His fingers became numb around his wand, while the strength left his legs.

Geoffrey said something beside him, but Daryan could not understand the words.

The circular chamber tilted.

His wand slipped from his hand and struck the floor.

Daryan’s knees buckled.

Eruman reached him before he fell. Strong arms lifted Daryan against his chest, and the familiar scent of parchment and cedar replaced the cold air left by the destroyed passage.

“I have you,” Eruman said.

Daryan attempted to answer, but exhaustion pulled him beneath the sound of his friends gathering around them.

 

 

Chapter 25

What Remains

The cabinet followed Daryan through every dream.

It waited inside the Horned Serpent dormitory with its doors partially open and darkness spilling across the floor. When Daryan attempted to escape, the beds disappeared and the cabinet stood inside his family’s apartment in Nashville. The familiar blue walls darkened around it, and every photograph of his parents turned black.

William stood before the open doors.

His bare feet rested upon the carpet, and his school robe hung loosely around his body. He looked exhausted and frightened, but his eyes were no longer empty.

“You have to run,” William warned him.

Daryan tried to move. Black ropes tightened around his arms and pulled him toward the cabinet.

A green light appeared beyond William.

“No!”

The curse struck him again.

William fell without making a sound. The cabinet swallowed his body before Daryan could reach him, leaving Quinn standing between its doors.

“Your power echoed through every world.”

The scene changed.

Daryan stood in the Hushnote wand shop with blue-white magic surrounding his hands. The light passed through the walls, crossed Nashville, and spread beyond the sky. Thousands of different worlds appeared around him, each containing another Hushnote, another Ilvermorny, and another version of the cabinet.

Natalia’s voice moved among them.

“There’s something different about your eyes.”

Daryan searched for her, but every doorway led into another empty corridor.

William appeared at the end of each one.

Sometimes he called Natalia’s name. Sometimes he warned Daryan to run. In the worst version, he said nothing at all. He merely stared at Daryan while the green light filled the corridor.

Daryan awoke to the quiet clinking of potion bottles.

His entire body felt heavy, and his throat hurt as though he had been shouting. Fading afternoon sunlight entered through the infirmary windows, stretching across the nearly silent rows of beds. Beyond the windows, the sky had begun turning gold near the mountains.

Professor Woods stood several beds away with Serenity. They were examining Parker, who rested beneath a blanket with pale green bandages wrapped around one shoulder. Harper sat beside his bed, uninjured except for a few scrapes along her hands. Her traveling cloak had been folded across the back of a nearby chair.

Geoffrey noticed Daryan moving and immediately pushed himself upright. He occupied the bed across from Daryan, with a dark bruise covering one side of his face.

“He’s awake,” Geoffrey called.

Professor Woods crossed the infirmary before Daryan could answer. She examined his eyes, checked his pulse, and placed the back of her hand against his forehead.

“How long was I asleep?” Daryan asked.

“Approximately sixteen hours.”

Daryan looked toward the windows. “It’s almost dark.”

“It is nearly time for dinner,” Professor Woods confirmed. “You exhausted your magical reserves and bruised most of your body, but you will recover.”

The silence outside the infirmary felt unfamiliar. No students hurried through the corridor, and the staircases beyond the open doors carried none of their ordinary noise.

“Where is everyone?”

“Most students left for Spring Break today. The final departures occurred several hours ago.”

Daryan looked toward his friends. Theo and Ivan sat beside Geoffrey’s bed. Both appeared bruised and tired, but neither had been seriously injured.

Harper rose from beside Parker and approached Daryan.

“You called William’s name several times,” she said.

Daryan looked down at his hands. “I kept seeing the cabinet.”

Geoffrey moved his feet over the edge of his bed. “Professor Woods said we weren’t supposed to wake you.”

“You needed the rest,” Woods added. “Although I would prefer that the rest did not involve nightmares.”

“Did I say anything else?”

Geoffrey glanced toward Theo before answering. “You said something about your eyes and the worlds hearing you.”

Daryan remembered Natalia’s voice passing through the dream and Quinn standing between the cabinet doors.

“Where’s Natalia?”

“With her parents,” Professor Woods answered gently. “She remained here through most of the day, but there were arrangements they needed to make.”

Daryan did not ask about William.

Professor Woods’s expression had already given him the answer.

Parker stirred inside his bed and opened his eyes.

“Daryan?”

“I’m here.”

Parker shifted and immediately winced. “Did we win?”

“The cabinet is gone,” Theo told him.

“I’m counting that.”

Professor Woods returned to Parker before he could attempt to sit upright. Harper followed her, placing one hand against Parker’s uninjured shoulder while the healer checked his bandages.

Daryan watched them for several seconds before looking toward Geoffrey again.

“You’re hurt.”

“It looks worse than it feels.”

“That’s what everyone says when they look terrible.”

Geoffrey carefully stood and crossed the space between their beds. His steps were stiff, but Professor Woods did not order him to return.

“You scared us,” Geoffrey said.

“I was unconscious.”

“You were still doing it.”

Daryan managed a weak smile. Geoffrey sat beside him and took his hand without saying anything more.

Eruman entered the infirmary several minutes later with Professor Sylveran and the unfamiliar wizard from the hidden chamber. The stranger no longer carried his leather satchel, but his robes remained wrinkled from travel. Dust clung to the bottoms of his boots, and exhaustion showed around his eyes.

Professor Sylveran spoke quietly with Woods before checking on Geoffrey, Theo, Ivan, Harper, and Parker.

Eruman crossed directly to Daryan’s bed.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Like I fell off a broom.”

“You have never fallen from that height.”

“I don’t want to find out if it feels worse.”

Eruman’s smile lasted only a moment. He placed a chair beside the bed and sat down.

The unfamiliar professor remained near the foot of Daryan’s bed. He examined Daryan with open curiosity, although he did not interrupt.

Daryan looked toward him. “You’re Professor Houst.”

“I am,” the man answered. “Julian Houst. Under ordinary circumstances, I would have been teaching your Magical History lessons this year.”

“Professor Tyndale said you were traveling.”

“I was. I returned to Ilvermorny shortly before the paintings arrived in the Headmaster’s office.”

Daryan looked between him and Eruman. “You were with him?”

“Professor Houst had only just begun reporting what he discovered during his research,” Eruman explained. “The paintings entered my office shouting about students, Dark Magic, and a newly exposed corridor. We left immediately.”

Professor Houst moved closer to the bed. “I spent several months investigating magical cabinets throughout the East. My journey included several weeks at Hogwarts, where Headmistress McGonagall shared what she knew about the paired cabinets used to enter the school during the Battle of Hogwarts.”

“We read about those,” Theo said from across the infirmary.

Houst nodded. “Then I will not burden you with the entire history. The important difference is that the Hogwarts cabinets created a passage across physical distance. Quinn altered his pair to connect the same location across separate dimensions. I had never encountered anything like it before last night.”

“The eclipse helped him connect them,” Daryan said.

“So we gathered from what you remembered during the battle,” Eruman replied. “Quinn positioned the cabinets inside two versions of Ilvermorny and attempted to use the total lunar eclipse to reopen the damaged passage. Your arrival gave him a source of magic capable of completing what the eclipse could not.”

Daryan looked down at his hands. “He called it Ancient Magic.”

“He did,” Eruman said.

“What is it?”

Eruman leaned back in the chair. “I wish I could give you a proper answer. References to Ancient Magic exist in some of our oldest records, but they are incomplete. What remains suggests that it predates modern wandcraft and does not follow many of the rules governing ordinary spells.”

“Did you know I had it?”

“No. I knew your magic was unusual, but I did not understand what we were seeing.”

“Quinn did.”

“He recognized it,” Professor Houst said. “That does not mean he understood everything it can do.”

Daryan remembered Quinn’s expression when the blue-white power broke through his shield. “He wanted to use it to make the wormhole permanent.”

“We know what he wanted from you,” Eruman said. “What we do not know is what he intended after returning. He may have wanted access to our world, or he may have planned to bring something else through the passage.”

Daryan remembered the ruined castle beneath the colorless sky and the shapes moving in the distance.

“Do you think he’s still alive?”

“The connection was destroyed,” Eruman answered. “However, I will not repeat the mistake of assuming Quinn Fallory is dead without proof.”

Professor Houst’s gaze moved toward the windows. “Both cabinets were damaged when the wormhole collapsed. Rebuilding that connection should be considerably more difficult.”

“Should be?” Daryan repeated.

“Magic involving other dimensions does not provide many certainties.”

Daryan glanced toward Professor Sylveran. “Is the corridor still there?”

“It is,” Sylveran answered. “The concealment enchantments you destroyed have not returned. I sealed the entrance until the chamber can be examined safely.”

“The passage also remains upon the map you and your friends created,” Eruman added.

Theo looked pleased despite the bruise along his jaw. “The map continued working?”

“Perfectly. Professor Houst recovered it from the chamber after the battle. It recorded the hidden corridor as you explored it, and the new section has remained visible.”

Harper looked toward Daryan. “I thought the paintings were only going for you.”

“They came through every portrait connected to my office,” Eruman said. “Three of them attempted to speak at once.”

“They were scared,” Daryan said.

“So was I.”

The quiet admission removed what little humor had entered Eruman’s face.

He looked toward Geoffrey, Theo, Ivan, Harper, and Parker before returning his attention to Daryan.

“You should have come to me the moment you overheard William speaking through the fireplace.”

Daryan lowered his gaze.

“You knew he had delivered the gemstone,” Eruman continued. “You knew someone was threatening him, and you confirmed that Serenity had not told him anything about the stone. Following him yourselves placed every one of you in terrible danger.”

“We promised we would tell Professor Sylveran,” Daryan said. “We only wanted enough evidence so whoever was talking to William wouldn’t disappear.”

“And instead, you followed a student who was under the control of a wizard willing to use the Killing Curse.”

Daryan’s throat tightened. “If I had told you, maybe William would still be alive.”

“No.”

Eruman’s answer came firmly enough that Daryan looked at him.

“William’s death belongs to Quinn Fallory,” Eruman said. “William was placed under a coercive enchantment, threatened, and used. Quinn murdered him when he was no longer useful. You did not kill William.”

“But we waited.”

“You made a dangerous mistake. I will not pretend otherwise.” Eruman rested one hand over Daryan’s. “You also prevented Quinn from entering this school without anyone knowing. Had you not followed William, Quinn could have crossed through that cabinet unannounced. The consequences might have been far worse.”

Daryan looked toward his friends.

“We should have told you.”

“Yes,” Eruman agreed. “You should have trusted us sooner. That is the portion of this for which you are responsible. I will not allow you to carry Quinn’s guilt merely because you wish you had made a different decision.”

Daryan nodded slowly.

Eruman’s fingers tightened around his hand. “This conversation is not finished.”

“I know.”

“But the remainder can wait until you are strong enough to stay awake through it.”

Daryan looked toward Professor Houst. “Quinn said he sent the dreams into my mind.”

“The gemstone gave him access,” Houst replied. “Once the stone was removed, Professor Vale found no continuing connection. The dreams you experienced while unconscious today came from your own memories.”

“That doesn’t make them feel better.”

“No,” Eruman acknowledged. “It does mean Quinn was not creating them.”

Daryan hesitated before asking the question that had remained inside him since the vision in the infirmary.

“What about the things he showed me before? Were any of them real?”

Professor Vale entered the infirmary carrying a tray of potion ingredients. She heard the question as she approached and set the tray beside Professor Woods.

“Quinn constructed those images from information already inside your mind,” she explained. “Your memories, fears, wishes, and expectations gave him the pieces. He rearranged them into scenes capable of influencing you.”

Daryan remembered seeing himself older. Geoffrey had been holding him, promising a future that felt safe and certain.

“So that wasn’t the future?”

“No,” Professor Vale said. “It was an image designed to make you trust what the connection showed you.”

Daryan looked at Geoffrey.

His friend remained beside him with their hands joined. Geoffrey loved him, but it was the same love that existed between two boys who had grown up in neighboring apartments and faced their first year of magic together. Quinn had found that sense of safety inside Daryan’s mind and turned it into something else because he believed it would make the vision more convincing.

Geoffrey squeezed his hand. “Whatever he showed you doesn’t change what’s real.”

Daryan nodded. “I know.”

Eruman removed a small crystal vial from his robe. “Would you be willing to share your memory of the battle? It may help us understand Quinn’s magic and determine what he intended.”

“Yes.”

Daryan allowed Eruman to touch his wand to his temple. A thin silver strand emerged with the wand’s tip, carrying a copy of the memory without removing the original. Eruman guided it into the vial and sealed it inside.

Professor Woods interrupted before anyone could ask another question. She ordered the professors away from Daryan’s bed and brought him a bowl of broth with several pieces of soft bread.

“You have been unconscious for sixteen hours,” she reminded him. “Ancient Magic does not replace food.”

Daryan managed to eat half the broth before his arms became tired. Geoffrey attempted to help him hold the bowl, but he nearly spilled it across the blankets.

“You’re worse at this than I am,” Daryan complained.

“My face hurts.”

“You don’t hold bowls with your face.”

“I’m distracted by it.”

Professor Woods rescued the broth from both of them.

The infirmary doors opened again while the enchanted ceiling lamps gradually brightened against the fading sunlight.

Natalia entered with her parents.

Her mother remained near the entrance beside Roland Banks, allowing Natalia to approach the beds alone. She wore her traveling cloak, and her eyes were red from crying. Her trunk and belongings had already been removed from the Horned Serpent dormitory.

Everyone became quiet when they saw her.

Natalia stopped between the beds and looked at Harper, Parker, Geoffrey, Theo, and Ivan. For several seconds, she appeared unable to decide what to say.

“Thank you,” she finally managed. “All of you.”

Harper stood and hugged her first. Parker reached for Natalia’s hand from his bed, while Geoffrey moved close enough to rest one arm around both girls. The others gathered around them as carefully as their bruises allowed.

Natalia held Theo a little longer when she reached him.

“You caught me,” she whispered.

“You landed on me,” Theo corrected gently.

“You kept me from hitting the floor.”

Theo returned her hug. “I’m sorry we couldn’t save him.”

Natalia closed her eyes before releasing him.

She turned toward Ivan next.

“You protected us,” she said. “You kept the shield around William even after he was gone.”

Ivan lowered his gaze. “I didn’t want Quinn to do anything else to him.”

Natalia wrapped her arms around Ivan. He hesitated before returning the embrace.

“Thank you for protecting my brother,” she whispered.

When they separated, Natalia wiped her eyes and turned toward Daryan.

Daryan moved toward the edge of the bed. She sat beside him before Professor Woods could object.

“He came back to himself,” Natalia said. “Only for a moment, but he knew me.”

“I saw.”

“He warned me to run.” Her voice trembled. “After everything Quinn did to him, William was still trying to protect me.”

Daryan reached for her hand. “He was scared, but he fought Quinn at the end.”

Natalia closed her fingers around his. “I told my parents. I needed them to know that William never wanted any of this.”

“I’m sorry we couldn’t save him.”

“You tried.” Natalia wiped her eyes. “All of you tried.”

“We should have told you sooner.”

“You gave me the chance to help him. I wish we had told a professor, but I understand why you were afraid Quinn would disappear.”

Daryan looked toward Roland and Mrs. Banks. “Are you leaving tonight?”

Natalia nodded. “We’re taking William to England. My family has a private cemetery there.”

“How long will you be gone?”

“We aren’t coming back.”

The answer silenced everyone around the beds.

“My parents have decided to remain in England,” Natalia continued. “I’ll attend Hogwarts next year.”

Daryan had expected her to leave for the remainder of the term. He had not expected the move to become permanent.

“I’m going to miss you.”

“I’ll miss all of you too.”

Natalia hugged him carefully, avoiding the bruises along his arms. Daryan held her as tightly as his exhausted body allowed.

“You had better write to me,” she whispered.

“I will.”

“And stop excluding me whenever something dangerous happens.”

“You’ll be in another country.”

“That is what owls are for.”

Daryan smiled despite the pressure inside his chest. “I promise.”

Natalia stood and looked across the infirmary at all six of them.

“We’re still friends,” she said. “I don’t care which school I attend.”

“Nothing changes that,” Harper assured her.

Theo nodded. “We’ll all write.”

“And we expect answers,” Ivan added.

Parker raised his uninjured hand. “Preferably with information about Hogwarts salamanders.”

Natalia laughed through her tears. She said goodbye to them once more before returning to her parents.

Roland Banks approached Daryan while Mrs. Banks led Natalia into the corridor.

“I needed to thank you for trying to save my son,” Roland said.

“It wasn’t William’s fault,” Daryan replied. “Quinn was controlling him. William was scared.”

Roland lowered his gaze. “My family has guarded dangerous magical objects for generations. We are trained to recognize coercive enchantments, possession, and the influence of cursed artifacts. I should have noticed the change in my own son.”

“Nobody knew what was happening.”

“I should have.”

Eruman placed one hand on the edge of Daryan’s bed.

“The responsibility belongs to Quinn,” he said. “William was manipulated, and Daryan is an eleven-year-old boy who made a frightened decision. Neither of you will make Quinn’s guilt your own.”

Roland closed his eyes briefly before nodding. He reached out and carefully shook Daryan’s hand.

“Natalia told us that William recognized her before the end. Thank you for believing that he was still worth saving.”

After he left, Serenity came to examine Daryan. Her eyes were red, but her hands remained steady as she checked the bruises along his arms.

“I’m sorry about William,” Daryan told her.

Serenity paused before continuing her work. “Thank you.”

“I tried to stop him from opening the cabinet.”

“I know you did.” She adjusted his pillow and encouraged him to lie back. “William cared about Natalia more than anyone. I’m glad she was able to reach him before the end.”

Daryan wanted to say more, but Serenity had already moved toward Parker’s bed.

Aryanna arrived with Damon, Dalon, and Emily shortly after Natalia departed.

Daryan barely had time to sit upright before Aryanna reached him. She wrapped her arms around him carefully and pressed her face against his hair.

“I’m all right, Mom.”

“You are in a hospital bed.”

“I’m going to be all right.”

“That is better.”

Damon waited until Aryanna released him before examining Daryan from head to toe.

“What are you doing?” Daryan asked.

“Checking that you’re still in one piece.”

“Professor Woods already checked.”

“I trust her. I am still checking.”

Damon hugged him gently. Dalon followed, resting a hand against the back of Daryan’s head before sitting beside Aryanna.

Emily went directly to Geoffrey. Her son attempted to assure her that his bruises looked worse than they felt, but she did not appear convinced.

The other families visited throughout the evening. Deedra and Kevin sat with Theo, while Poretta and Eric Kiljoy remained beside Ivan. Parker’s parents surrounded his bed as Professor Woods explained that the damage to his shoulder would heal with several days of rest. Harper’s parents appeared relieved to find her uninjured, although they were displeased to learn that she had followed the others before running for a professor.

The children told their parents what happened in fragments. Whenever someone credited Daryan with saving them, he corrected them.

“We all fought,” he insisted. “Harper brought Professor Sylveran. Parker released the salamanders. Ivan shielded everyone, and Theo and Geoffrey kept Quinn from pulling me through the cabinet.”

“You still saved us,” Theo said.

Ivan nodded. “Thank you.”

Geoffrey crossed the space between their beds and hugged Daryan. Both boys winced at the same time.

“This was a bad idea,” Daryan muttered.

“Probably.”

Neither released the other immediately.

Later, Poretta and Eric approached Daryan’s family. Ivan remained nearby, looking uncomfortable with the attention.

Poretta spoke first. “Our son told us what Daryan did for him.”

“He also told us about the danger that may continue because Quinn survived in another dimension,” Eric added. “If Daryan or his family ever calls upon the Kiljoys, we will answer. Our family stands with yours from this day forward.”

Eruman’s eyebrows lifted. “I wondered when that portion of the prophecy would reveal itself.”

Daryan looked toward him. “What prophecy?”

Eruman appeared to regret speaking aloud. “One that I intend to verify before frightening everyone with an incomplete interpretation.”

“That means you’re not telling me.”

“Not while you are recovering.”

Aryanna gave her grandfather a suspicious look. “You will tell us afterward.”

“Yes,” Eruman agreed. “Afterward.”

Professor Woods eventually forced the families to leave so her patients could rest. Aryanna kissed Daryan’s forehead and promised to return the next morning. Emily made the same promise to Geoffrey, while Theo and Ivan’s parents reluctantly allowed their sons to remain at Ilvermorny for Spring Break as planned.

Harper left with her parents that evening. Parker remained in the infirmary because Professor Woods refused to let him travel until his shoulder healed.

The castle became almost completely silent after nightfall.

Only a small number of students remained for Spring Break, and most occupied rooms far from the infirmary. The usual footsteps, distant laughter, and slamming doors had vanished. Even the pipes appeared quieter.

Daryan fell asleep shortly after his parents left.

The cabinet returned.

William stood between the doors, but this time Natalia’s voice came from behind him.

“Look at his eyes.”

Quinn answered from somewhere within the ruined school.

“Your Ancient Magic echoed through every world.”

Daryan ran toward William. The corridor stretched with every step, carrying the cabinet farther away. When the green light appeared, Daryan raised both hands.

Nothing happened.

He awoke calling William’s name.

Ivan was beside him.

The taller boy had climbed into Daryan’s infirmary bed at some point during the night. One arm wrapped tightly around Daryan’s chest, while the other rested beneath his pillow. Ivan’s grip tightened when Daryan attempted to move.

“You were dreaming,” Ivan whispered.

“I know.”

“You kept trying to get away.”

“I was trying to reach William.”

Ivan moved closer until Daryan’s back rested against his chest. “You’re here.”

Daryan stared toward the dark infirmary windows. “He isn’t.”

“No.”

Ivan did not attempt to tell him everything was fine. He merely held Daryan until his breathing slowed.

Across the room, Geoffrey had climbed into Theo’s bed. Geoffrey slept with his face turned toward Daryan, while Theo’s arm rested loosely across his waist. The arrangement would once have caused an entire morning of jokes. That night, it felt like the most reasonable response any of them could have made.

Daryan closed his eyes again.

Ivan’s arms remained tight around him until morning.

The four boys returned to the Horned Serpent dormitory several days later. Parker remained in the infirmary for most of the first week of Spring Break, while Harper wrote twice to make sure everyone was recovering.

Daryan’s nightmares continued.

Some nights, Geoffrey joined him. Geoffrey would pull the blankets around them, complain that Daryan stole too much space, and remain awake until Daryan stopped trembling. His care never felt like the false future Quinn constructed. It was familiar and uncomplicated, belonging to the friendship they carried from Nashville into the magical world.

On other nights, Theo slept beside Daryan with a book open between them until both boys drifted off. Ivan joined him most often. He held Daryan tightly, sometimes drawing him against his chest before either of them had fallen asleep. Whenever a nightmare caused Daryan to move, Ivan awakened and tightened his arms as though he could keep both Daryan and the dream from escaping.

The sleeping arrangements no longer centered entirely upon Daryan.

Sometimes Geoffrey climbed into Theo’s bed while Ivan remained with Daryan. On other nights, Theo joined Ivan, leaving Geoffrey to share Daryan’s bed. Geoffrey and Ivan occasionally fell asleep together while Daryan read beside Theo. No one announced the change or attempted to create another schedule. They simply stopped believing that comfort had to belong to only one frightened person.

Daryan noticed that Ivan remained more reluctant than the others to release him in the mornings. If Daryan attempted to leave the bed before Ivan awakened, the taller boy’s arms tightened automatically. Ivan dismissed the behavior as a sleeping habit, although it had never happened before the cabinet.

Daryan did not tease him as often as he once had.

He understood that Ivan had watched Quinn attempt to drag him into another world. Some part of Ivan appeared determined to ensure nothing carried Daryan away again.

Spring Break passed slowly. Professor Woods continued examining Daryan’s magical reserves, while Professor Vale confirmed that no foreign connection remained around his mind. The nightmares belonged to Daryan now. Quinn was no longer placing images inside his thoughts, but knowing that did not stop William from falling whenever Daryan closed his eyes.

Professor Houst resumed teaching Magical History after Spring Break. He spoke little about his travels during lessons, although he occasionally paused when a textbook mentioned vanished objects, impossible spaces, or magical transportation. Marjory Tyndale returned to her previous responsibilities after formally surrendering the classroom to him.

The remaining weeks of the academic year passed beneath a quiet awareness of what happened.

MACUSA investigators examined the hidden corridor, the gemstone, and the remains of the cabinet. Dalon assisted with the investigation, while Professor Houst provided everything he learned during his journey. Daryan’s copied memory confirmed that Quinn survived inside a parallel dimension, although no one could determine what else existed there or whether the collapse injured him.

William was officially recognized as a victim of magical coercion. His role in bringing the gemstone to Ilvermorny remained private.

The examinations were adjusted for everyone involved in the battle. Parker’s shoulder healed before the end of Spring Break, although Professor Woods refused to allow him near the blue salamanders again. Harper returned without injury and completed her examinations normally.

Daryan’s nightmares never completely stopped.

They changed from night to night. Sometimes the cabinet opened into the Horned Serpent dormitory. Sometimes it stood inside Hushnote or the Marsdales’ apartment. Natalia’s voice continued speaking about his eyes, while Quinn reminded him that his power echoed through every world.

William always appeared somewhere within the dream.

During the final feast, Eruman recognized the courage of several students who responded to a dangerous magical incident. He did not reveal Quinn, the cabinet, or Daryan’s Ancient Magic to the rest of the school.

Before leaving, Daryan visited the painting of Isolt and James.

Isolt smiled when she saw him approaching. “You have had a difficult first year.”

“That’s one way to describe it.”

“You will return to us after summer,” she said.

“I will.”

James rested one hand upon Isolt’s shoulder. “You are also permitted to enjoy an ordinary vacation. Young wizards occasionally forget that.”

Daryan promised to try.

On the final morning, the students gathered outside the castle with their owls and smaller bags. The school staff would transport their trunks to the zeppelin.

Harper reminded Daryan that he owed her another broom race during their second year. Theo, Ivan, Parker, Geoffrey, and Daryan promised to exchange letters throughout the summer. Natalia’s absence remained noticeable among them, but they included her in the promise.

Professor Sylveran led the departing students along the forest path. Spring had transformed the woods around Ilvermorny. Green leaves filled the branches, flowers grew near the Reflecting River, and unseen creatures moved through the undergrowth.

Riven walked behind Daryan and muttered the familiar insult beneath his breath.

“Mutt.”

Ivan quietly moved one foot into Riven’s path.

Riven caught his shoe and fell face-first into a patch of mud. He rose with dirt covering the front of his robes and began shouting at Ivan.

Professor Sylveran turned around.

His gaze moved from Riven to Ivan and then to the disturbed mud between them. He offered Riven a hand and pulled him upright.

“You should watch where you’re going, Mr. Bower.”

Ivan’s expression remained perfectly innocent.

The students continued toward the zeppelin tower. Daryan could see the upper deck through the trees, with crew members preparing the lines and loading the last pieces of luggage.

A faint whisper passed behind him.

Daryan stopped and looked toward the trees.

Nothing stood between the trunks. Sunlight moved through the leaves, breaking across patches of moss and small white flowers. The forest appeared calm, but its ordinary sounds had vanished. No birds called from the branches. Even the footsteps of the departing students seemed to grow distant.

Chip shifted upon Daryan’s shoulder.

The little owl turned his head toward the deeper forest and released a warning click.

Something moved beyond the first line of trees.

Daryan saw only a narrow shadow passing between two trunks. It disappeared before he could determine whether it belonged to a person, an animal, or something cast by the branches above.

A second shadow moved farther away.

This one traveled against the direction of the sunlight.

Leaves rustled without any wind.

A voice whispered from somewhere near the Reflecting River. The words were too quiet for Daryan to understand, but another voice repeated them from much deeper within the forest.

His fingertips tingled.

The water between the trees briefly reflected a sky filled with stars instead of morning sunlight. Daryan blinked, and the ordinary blue sky returned.

More whispers moved around him.

They did not resemble Quinn’s voice or the cold chorus from the cabinet. These voices sounded older and less human. Some spoke from the branches above him, while others seemed to rise from beneath the earth. Most of the words passed beyond his understanding, although several fragments became clear.

“Awakened.”

Another voice answered from across the river.

“Found.”

The shadows among the trees became still.

Daryan felt the unmistakable sensation of being watched.

A final whisper drifted close enough to stir the hair above his ear.

“The first door remembers.”

Daryan turned quickly.

Nothing stood behind him.

“Daryan!” Geoffrey called from the tower. “Are you coming?”

The forest sounds returned all at once. Birds called from the branches, insects moved through the grass, and the other students’ voices carried along the path.

Daryan looked toward the Reflecting River again.

For a moment, a tall shape appeared within the water’s reflection. It stood directly behind him even though the path was empty.

The surface rippled.

The shape disappeared.

Daryan joined his friends without mentioning what he had seen. Chip remained tense upon his shoulder, staring into the forest until the trees vanished behind the walls of the zeppelin tower.