Riya took the candle in one hand, her essay in the other. The orange glow danced against her face as she stood in the center of the chalk-dusted pentacle, the world around her suddenly feeling too heavy. Quiet.
She didn’t like the quiet anymore. It gave too much room for thoughts to invade—like where she would go if Caltech was no longer an option. Could she really stomach going anywhere else?
And Kian—how would he look at her tomorrow, when he no longer remembered her?
“What next?” she asked.
A few more moments passed in silence before Sirah khala spoke. “After this experience... I know you might not want to have anything more to do with our magic. But I hope you’ll give it another chance someday. I’d love to teach you. Properly.”
There was something about the way her khala stood now—tense, shoulders slightly slumped—as if bracing for rejection.
But Sirah khala had always been so sure of herself, moving like the wind, controlled only by her own whims. This was a version of her khala Riya didn’t know.
Maybe magic had always been her aunt’s attempt at a bridge. Maybe that’s why she’d lit up when Riya’s powersfirst appeared. But Riya insistently kept her distance. Logic over legacy. Principle over belief. She hadn’t realized, back then, that in rejecting magic, she was also rejecting family.
Now, standing in the center of a pentacle she’d drawn herself, she could finally see it: Her khala’s distance wasn’t wanderlust. It was waiting. Unspoken, aching hope that Riya would return to magic on her own terms.
Instead, Riya had cursed someone. Just like she’d cast that horrible spell on Jake Townsend and his friends.
With an involuntary shiver, she whispered, “I don’t know if I deserve to learn any more.”
“Of course you deserve it,” Sirah khala responded firmly. “The question is, do you want it?”
Footsteps pounded toward them.
Riya’s heart squeezed painfully as she turned, candlelight flickering in the breeze.
“Kian...?”
He stood a few feet from the pentacle, breathless, eyes wide.
“You... just...left,” he panted. “Dad and I were worried something happened.”
Riya’s stomach twisted. She glanced at Sirah khala, whose expression had shifted into something unreadable.
She’d planned to do this alone. Discreetly. Just one last act of damage control before she shut the door for good.
“Everything’s fine,” she said quickly. “I just need to take care of something.”
Kian’s eyes moved to the pentacle. “Wait, what is this? What are you—?”
Riya swallowed hard. “I’m fixing it. The curse. Everything.”
“Kian, right?” Sirah khala said gently, stepping forward. “Maybe it’s best if we all take a breath.”
But it was like she didn’t exist. Kian stepped closer. “Fixing ithow, Riya?”
Riya turned away, unable to meet his gaze. “It doesn’t matter.”
“What aren’t you telling me?” Kian pressed.
Riya’s hands clenched into fists by her sides.
“There’s a cost,” she said finally. “But it’s one I’m willing to pay.”
“What kind of cost?”
Riya swallowed hard. “I have to give up something important. To me.”
