And James rushes off the stage, the eruption of applause following him back to his seat.
I crane my neck around Oliver to look at him, but Oliver has the same idea, and he’s leaning forward to consider the spotty-faced boy he’s ignored for the past decade.
James might be dropped onto his seat, his hot face hidden behind his hands as he folds over and starts the performance of a headache, but the stares have followed him, and it takes a while for the applause to settle.
When it does, Wealdwine calls up the next lot.
Serena and Asta stalk to the stage, smiles on their beautiful faces.
I check my watch.
Almost dinner time, and we’re only up to Illusion.
The breath that sags me is muffled by a yawn stretching through Landon.
I consider him out the corner of my eye, the way he runs his hands over his face, then looks over in the general direction of James…
And something clicks in my mind.
Iitrin.
That could very well be how it started between them. If they had a moment of shared eye contact, or close proximity, something, and James felt Landon’s thoughts.Felt, because this seems to have been going on a while—and there is no way James has been able to read and control thoughts for the past ten years.
These prints take time to craft, to perfect, to mould, and to channel. Even then, a lot of witches end up using pentacles, because it helps.
There are no pentacles used today.
Asta and Serena go without them on the stage, and they compete.
Oliver stays awake for it.
Their task—to become the headmaster—is timed against Master Wealdwine’s stopwatch. But the stopwatch is pointless, because Asta is terrible at her print.
All she manages is to mimic Braun’s voice, and it echoes around the room as if it came from somewhere in the ceiling, a speaker or a vent.
Serena transforms.
Not literally, of course.
It’s all illusion.
But to every single gaze in here, with gasps and laughter snaking around the students, she looks and sounds exactly like Headmaster Braun.
Then I blink—and she’s Serena again.
Oliver brings his hands together.
The first to clap, but it starts an applause around the whole room.
Serena’s smile is proud as she stalks back to her seat.
Asta’s face is twisted malice.
She obviously didn’t get the tick Serena did.
It must feel like crap.
All the extra work so many of them have been putting in this semester, snubbing the slopes and parties and sports, just to fail a practice exam.
