“Well, Merrin said one month. Then I get the journals and I’m gone. How hard can it be to survive here for a month?” I try to sound optimistic. I don’t pull it off. “And as for Talen—” I drop my voice, eyes on the floor, not on hers. “Maybe he’s all talk. He’s had chances to kill me, hasn’t taken them. So I’m calling his bluff. I’ll just stay out of his way, keep my head down, and get through this.”
The blanket scratches as I tug it tighter around me, like it might shield me from the guilt pressing into my ribs. Lying to her face shouldn't feel this easy.
My eyes lift, she’s looking at me, head tilted.Does she believe me? She doesn't look convinced...
Fingers twitch, the rhythm in my chest kicking sharper as that low hum gathers beneath my skin. raw magic that’s been recharging, building overnight, starts to edge closer to the surface.Shit. I grind my teeth and dig my nails into my palms, willing the pressure rising in my chest to settle.
“Is it always this bad in the morning?” Ezzy asks, watching me fidget with the blanket like it’s a distraction I don’t realise I’m using.
"Only when I haven’t had a chance to release it," I say, shifting under the blanket. "It builds overnight, always has. As long as I let it out first thing, I’m fine. But if I don’t? Let’s just say you wouldn’t want to be around when it hits the edge. Learned that the hard way, a couple of one-night stands who didn’t leavefast enough." A tight breath escapes me. "But here? There’s nowhere to go. Can’t exactly slip out and quietly throw a bunch of magic into the sky without someone noticing and realising just how out of control I am. And I sure as hell can’t wait until the next time they call me for a Demonstration." The thought turns sour in my mouth. "God knows what would happen if I waited that long."
Ezzy hums under her breath, heels tapping the floor as she scans the room. Then her eyes spark wide.
“Wait... hang on,” she drops to her knees beside the bed, tugging her pack forward and unzipping it with a determined grunt. “I know it’s in here somewhere…” She digs faster, muttering to herself, then lets out a frustrated huff and flips the whole pack upside down. Pens and quills spill out across the floor in a tangle of chaotic colour. “Yes! Here it is,” she calls, breathless and triumphant, holding something out in her open palm.
I stare at it. “You’re kidding.”
Ezzy drops down beside me with a huff, the object still clutched in her hand.
Small, wooden, and clearly hand-carved, a fucking duck.
My brow arches, I can’t help it.
“Finn made it for me last semester. I get really jittery before exams, and sometimes my Threads act up. He made me this, it really helps.”
I stare at the duck. Has she gone mad?
“He’s stupidly talented,” she continues, oblivious to my judgement. “Give him a knife and a block of anything, and he’ll carve a masterpiece. This is what hereallywants to do. But his parents shoved him into the Citadel, like all his brothers.”
I squint at the bird in her hands. “You think a wooden ornament is going to help me control my Threads?”
“Oh, stars, no. Not the duck. That’d be ridiculous.” She laughs. “No, it’s the magic. The magic inside that Finn threaded into it.That’shis real skill. It doesn’t drain you or mute anything. It just calms the edges, keeps your Threads from turning...feral,when they’ve been bottled up for too long.” She grins, eyes wide and bright as she holds it out towards me. “I used to lose it on him and Rowan every exam cycle. No one got hurt, but... they definitely started avoiding me. This fixed it.” She shifts closer. “Try it.”
I eye the duck, it’s ridiculous, a carved bird isn’t going to fix me.
At first I hesitate. I don’t want to owe her more than I already do. She helped me last night and she’s still here. That should be enough...
“Ezzy…” I shake my head, fingers laced tight to stop the twitch. “You don’t have to try and fix me.”
“I’m not.” She says it soft, like she knows exactly what I’m doing. “Just try it.”
This is so bloody stupid. But she’s watching me like it might work. LikeImight work. And I’m just so damn tired of feeling like a ticking bomb.
So I reach out and take the duck.
It’s warm. Warmer than it should be. The wood fits straight into my palm like it’s been waiting and then the moment my fingers close around it, everything… shifts. Not a jolt. Not a dramatic snap of magic. Just… a quieting. Like someone exhaled deep inside my chest and took my storm with them.
The pressure that’s been building behind my ribs softens. My thoughts don’t race. My Threads don’t claw and for the first time in hours, days, I feel still.
I blink and look down at the wooden ornament, its carved feathers rough under my thumb.
It's stupid. It’s ugly as sin, but it’s working... Fuck, Finn is good at this.
“It won’t last forever,” Ezzy says beside me. “Maybe a day, max. Best to keep it close.” She pauses. “It’s an easy fix for now. Learning to actually control your magic? That’s probably going to take longer than a month.”
Yeah, no kidding. Not that I think I’ll ever actually get control of it. Still, I take a breath, eyes locked on the duck like it might vanish if I stopped watching it.
She didn’t have to help, didn’t have to be kind. And I’ve done nothing to deserve it, especially not this morning.
