“We encountered one under Arches. If you go now, you’ll find it,” says Dorian.
“We’ll investigate. It’s what we do.”
Why don’t I believe him? Do I have to tear off my shirt to show him the mark on my back as proof? I catch Dorian’s eye again, and I know he has the same thought. How else will we get him to listen?
The journal, of course, would absolve us.
I reach for Raven’s bag to show Stone the journal, but she blocks me with her hand. She meets my eye, her expression hardened, then shakes her head, telling me to wait.
I want to argue, but I can’t get a read on Raven at all; it’s like she’s closed herself entirely off from me.
Meanwhile, Dorian pleads with Warden Stone. “I know it sounds crazy, but I think the malum killed that student—”
“Pippa,” says Raven.
“We ourselves barely made it out alive,” he continues.
Warden Stone remains unfazed. “Thankfully, no one else was hurt.” Finally, slowly, he turns. His icy blue eyes are as cold as the room, and he looks down his nose at us. “And yet somehow I can’t help but be disappointed by the fact that you’ve violated almost every Sibylline policy.”
“We’re just staff members,” I say. “We didn’t do anything wrong.”
“You’ve been caught trespassing in a restricted area, a place scheduled for demolition. It’s a miracle you weren’t killed. What were you doing? Looting?”
He is more right than he knows, so I change the subject. “Sir, please. You have to listen to us. There is something down there in the ruins.”
“Yes, something that we are capable of handling. Thank you.”
Anger rushes to my face. “Go do something about it, then,” I say. “Stop the demolition and search the tunnels right now.”
Warden Stone is uninterested. Then understanding dawns on me. I’m not a student or a teacher or a graduate of Sibylline. I am no one.
“What about Pippa?” asks Raven. “She didn’t get crushed to death. We all know it. You’re lying—”
Warden Stone’s eyes flash dangerously. “I’ve read the investigation report. What happened to Pippa was an accident.”
“I saw the claw marks on her body,” Raven says flatly. “I know she was attacked.”
“We need to call the authorities,” I say.
“Iam the authority,” Warden Stone’s voice booms, making me flinch. His thoughts are as strong as steel, his convictionunmatched. “For decades, the country has turned to us to handle matters relating to magical crime. As warden, I lead such investigations. Thus, if there is a malum in the ruins, I’ll be the one to handle it. Not you. You have no training, no knowledge of the art.”
Contempt rolls off of him like oil. I can taste it on the back of my tongue, bitter as bile. I try to rid myself of his thoughts, but it makes me sick. A lump forms in my throat. I try to swallow it down, but it’s stuck there. I’m choking on dread. I can’t bring myself to look at him, so I lower my gaze to his desk. There, buried amongst the pile of papers, is a familiar illustration: a body sprawled on a pentagram.
I’m so fixated on it, I almost don’t hear it when he says, “You have violated rules and ignored repeated warnings. I have no choice in the matter.”
“Sir, please—” starts Dorian.
“Therefore,” continues Stone, “you three are hereby unwelcome on this campus, even as staff members. This school is private property, and every inch of it is now off-limits. You are forbidden to set foot within these gates.”
I lift my head and balk. “What? But how are we supposed to—”
“You’re fired, Mr.Garcia. As are the rest of you.”
The world tips underneath me. Fired? Me? That can’t be right. How will I learn from the students and teachers at Sibylline? How will I ever understand my power?
The answer hits me like a sledgehammer: I won’t.
“That is all,” he says, not even bothering to meet my eye. Settling into his chair, he opens a large, leather-bound tome, dismissing us with a casual wave of his hand.
