"That was fun," Cal said, wringing out his hand to scatter the remaining embers. "Your turn."

  Cal had never counted how many fire manifestations he knew. When asked, he'd describe it as a handful. This was incorrect.

  It was two handfuls.

  Well, as long as he rounded up.

  "That was—" Marcus said with his lips pressed thin, searching for the words to describe Cal's performance. "In line with my expectations."

  To punch or not to punch, that was the question.

  The presence of a teacher who might actually give a shit tilted the scales in an unfun direction.

  "Mr. Ardere," Evergreen said authoritatively. Her hands were held behind her back, and her expression was schooled into a professional mask. "Do you mean to tell me that the totality of your repertoire is seven manifestations, with the most complex being Cinder Step?"

  It would be really dumb of him to ask which one that was, so he didn't. He never cared for the names around specific manifestations. All labeling magic did was constrain its use.

  If his guess was correct, Cinder Step was the manifestation that created an explosive blast under his foot. He used it for bursts of speed, limited aerial movement, or kicking people. The name only covered two of those.

  "Eight?" Cal questioned, lighting a flame on the end of his finger. "Does this count? I don't really feel like it should."

  Part of the problem with judging the number of manifestations he had available was defining what counted as a separate manifestation. Cal's control was good enough that he could stretch this tiny flame over his entire body. Did changing a manifestation that much qualify it for a different label?

  Cal didn't know, and frankly, he didn't care.

  "Candle wick," Evergreen said dryly, eyeing the flickering light. "The manifestation used to teach children."

  Okay, but could a child make it taller than themselves, smoothly transition the existing manifestation into a more traditional fireball, and then launch that instead?

  All with minimal to no loss during the reshaping?

  No? He didn't think so.

  "I," Cal said slowly, pointing at himself. "Hit people. Really, really hard. And sometimes, my fists happen to be on fire while doing it."

  Cal could have shown off a little, displaying his full breadth of skill.

  He didn't for a very simple reason.

  The sharp eyes picking apart his every move, the pointed demand for him to go first, and the predatory look on the deputy's face all but told him this was a trap.

  His personal interactions with Evergreen had been sparse. The ones that stood out were being blamed for Lily's exuberance and, more recently, the deputy's interference with their house arrest.

  The disparate treatment had puzzled him, but her presence today clarified her intentions.

  Lily had warned him that the Evergreens weren't the type for subterfuge—that they'd entangle him with existing rules.

  Lo and behold, the jilted administrator showed up to a class Cal had every reason to assume was canceled. He didn't know what the punishment was for truancy, but he was glad to have avoided it.

  It also explained why she was pleased with being treated like a volleyball. That was definitely going down on a report somewhere, and he was not about to hand her any additional infractions.

  He was going to do exactly what she requested and not a step further. Who knew if there were rules against layering magic or altering manifestations on the fly? If there were, he would bet they were archaic, but she could still use them against him.

  "That has been noted," the administrator-turned-instructor said. "Nevertheless, it doesn't explain your exceedingly narrow scope of manifestations. In your tenure here, you should have learned double that amount."

  Didn't that say more about the teachers than him?

  "Mr. Procellae," she said, changing targets and turning to the other boy. "Are you able to demonstrate an Aether Spiral? Please utilize a circle."

  Marcus nodded, holding his trident out. Magic gathered around one of the prongs, and a translucent white circle appeared in front of the student, compressing wind into the size of a bead.

  The manifestation was launched toward the opposite side of the battered arena and upon landing, rapidly expanded into a whirling cyclone.

  As the localized twister traveled across the ground, Cal could not pretend to be impressed. It was agonizingly slow, and its suction wasn't even that strong. After twenty seconds, it pattered out, leaving the three standing in a slightly dustier arena.

  He'd seen Marcus do better before, which led him to believe the man was holding back.

  "Aether Spiral is the base form of the more potent Ventus Vortex or Zephyr Cyclone," Evergreen explained, using a tone eerily similar to Alice's when she was lecturing. "However, it is stable enough that the structure works with other elements. Mr. Ardere, you will now perform a Pyre Spiral by duplicating Marcus's manifestation and substituting fire for wind."

  He was going to do what now?

  The silent expectation from the woman told him there wasn't a whole lot of room for negotiation here.

  "Can I see it again?"

  It was a reasonable request, and so he wasn't surprised when it was ruthlessly cut down.

  "Your prodigious talent in augmentation speaks to high-tuned control, and I've heard enough about your encounters to know your ability to sense magic must not be far behind. Combined, there should be nothing stopping a scion of House Ardere from producing a Pyre Spiral."

  She wanted him to copy a manifestation after seeing it once? That was… manageable. It had taken him more than a couple of tries, but he had replicated the Whistling Death's signature move from memory alone.

  He had been more focused on Evergreen than the manifestation, but he could probably figure it out.

  "Alright then," he said, holding out a hand. "I'm not using a circle though."

  A circle would let them see his starting point for the manifestation, which was likely to be hilariously wrong. He would form the magic first, and then prod at it until it got close to what he wanted.

  No one voiced objections, and he raised a hand, slowly pooling magic from within. He kept the amount to the bare minimum, knowing the more he added, the fussier the magic would be.

  The manifestation took form in both his mind and reality. Shaping the magic was easy, but he wouldn't know if it was right until he tested it.

  Fire sparked to life before his palm, whipping into a small bead. He fired it toward where Marcus's manifestation had faded, and it flew straight, holding its form until it impacted the dirt.

  A column of fire sprang up, and he noted the problems with it. For one, it was too short, roughly half the size of Marcus's. Then there were the spinning flames. They were too sharply angled. Finally, the shape was that of a cylinder rather than an inverted cone.

  The defects were fixable, and with his connection to it, he squeezed its bottom tighter before it flickered out of existence. The collapse was no surprise to him. He could feel its rate of consumption was higher than anticipated, and it ate through the pittance of magic he provided before he could make further changes.

  He made some quick mental revisions, including the need to feed it more, and was ready to start on its second iteration when Evergreen decided to interrupt him.

  "That's quite enough, Mr. Ardere. We wouldn't want you to strain yourself after losing your focus."

  Wait. Did she really expect him to do that in one try? There was no way that could be construed as fair. If she tried, he'd challenge her to bring any other student in here and have them do the same.

  "Losing?" Marcus cut in with suspicion in his voice. "How did that occur?"

  That was a good question. Not because of what it asked, but because of what it helped point out. He hadn't told Evergreen of his weapon being destroyed, which meant someone else had.

  "Second-rate materials and poor workmanship," Cal offered, choosing to air the root cause. "It was bound to fail eventually."

  There were better times for it to break than in the middle of the Waste, but that was water under the bridge. He would still need to pick up a replacement focus for appearances. As nice as his bracelet was, it didn't explain his ability to absorb ambient magic without hindrance.

  "Mr. Procellae, you are dismissed," Evergreen said to the palpable confusion of Cal. "Mr. Ardere, you will accompany me to my office."

  Marcus's lips formed a thin line, calculating eyes alternating between the two of them. Cal would have loved to know what he made of this.

  "If we're keeping score," Cal added. "Then I did nine to Marcus's one. Does that get me a prize?"

  Perhaps sass wasn't in his best interest. And perhaps his best interests can take a hike in favor of his indignation over the blatant targeting. How hard would it be to have Marcus cycle through some constructs and projectiles? It didn't even have to be his entire arsenal—just enough to make this interaction appear more benign.

  "Noted for the record," Evergreen said without a hint of annoyance. A thick vine emerged from the ground. It moved slowly, arching over the rubble. Leaves sprouted from the right side of its base, forming platforms large enough for a person. "Now let's be off."

  She ascended it like a staircase, unwilling to wait for his response.

  "Got a pen?" Cal asked the equally befuddled boy, who shook his head in reply. "Drat. You're definitely not going into my will now."

  Marcus failed to see the humor in it, frowning while watching their retreating instructor.

  "I don't believe you should make the deputy headmistress wait." He paused, almost muttering his next. "Peculiar as this is."

  Either it was a solid performance, or Marcus was serious about being as lost as Cal. They may have had their differences, but in that moment, it felt like they could agree on one thing.

  "Man," Cal said with a sigh. "This school needs to get better teachers."

  —

  All things considered, the march to the central clock tower went well. Evergreen didn't seem to care that he left a twenty-plus meter gap between them, and with classes still ongoing, he slipped into the building without attracting too many eyes.

  Cal was sorely tempted to get 'lost' on his way to her office, but didn't want to run the risk of someone being sent to fetch him.

  His conundrum was solved by legitimately getting lost and having to rely on Evergreen's signature to find the office that he'd been to only once before. He could put some blame on its location. With the title of Deputy Headmistress, one might assume her office would be near the top. It wasn't, and he only had to ascend three flights of stairs before reaching the right floor.

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  After a few signs and a helpful secretary, he found himself at a set of wooden doors. Last time he was here, Lily hadn't waited before pushing them aside and dragging him along to confront Evergreen.

  Cal wasn't in the same rush, pausing to examine them. Each door had a grid of four panels, depicting small figures and a forest. It showed them making a home among the trees, caring for saplings, and warding off strange beasts. No paint was needed to bring it to life—its greens, yellows, and browns were grown into the surface. The lower row had them leave the forest, meeting with outsiders to join them in a castle. It was the final panel that struck him as odd, consisting of nothing but twisted knots.

  The doors swung open, revealing the office he'd once contemplated burning. It was as green as he remembered, with overflowing planters placed on every available surface. Vines hung from the ceiling, and the bookshelves that lined the walls had moss growing on them. Compared to the headmaster's, the office was astonishingly small—no bigger than his shared living space with Alice.

  Behind a heavy desk, almost as wide as the room itself, was the stern administrator he knew and tolerated. She stared at him past steepled hands. The piles of paper and folders on the desk seemed forgotten, and for the life of him, Cal couldn't tell what he'd done to offend her.

  Well, apart from being the bastard of the man her older sister left their family for.

  "Take a seat," she said as the doors ominously shut behind him.

  Wood grew out of the ground, forming a chair for him to claim. Cal was betting it would gain thorns once he sat down. He decided to test that theory, strolling forward. He plopped down, hands resting on his knees.

  He'd been about to open his mouth when it occurred to him he should probably stop poking at her.

  "Do you know why I've called you here?" she asked in a level tone.

  Cal would rather she fill in that blank. There were a number of ways this could move forward, varying from mildly inconvenient to disastrous. If there was a bright side, it would be the 'I told you so' he got to serve Lily after this. She was going to feel like a fool for not jumping at the opportunity to ransack Evergreen's office now.

  "Because Basem is being a bad guest?" Cal asked, name-dropping the foreign dignitary. "I can talk to him if you want. Maybe smooth things over."

  His only plan to accomplish that would be to threaten the man, but he'd let her believe his relationship to the Adjunctor was closer than it was.

  "That won't be necessary," she said, continuing to stare at him intently.

  Green eyes clashed against red. He held the stare without blinking, avoiding any overt display of weakness. A part of him wanted to do something rash, but he quieted it down.

  The grown-ups were speaking. Or sitting in silence, waiting to see who'd blink first.

  "Would you like to know what this is?" she said, tapping on a specific folder. "It's every altercation you've been involved in since your arrival. Do you know what it tells me?"

  First Mia and now Evergreen? At this rate, Cal was going to get a phobia of people bullying him with files.

  "That I'm strong," he replied neutrally, keeping his cards close to his chest.

  A smile broke across her face, and he didn't like it one bit.

  "You're an augmentation specialist," she stated, dragging a nail along the folder's edge. The cover flexed, threatening to open, but she let it snap shut. "Hardly unusual for someone of your background. However, even that leaves you with an obvious flaw."

  An unsettling feeling formed in his gut.

  "Reading it was one matter," she continued, all but monologuing. "But to witness that pitiful array of manifestations you peddled."

  She clicked her tongue, briefly closing her eyes to shake her head in disappointment.

  "Your preparations must have been considerable to manage that. It's a pity. That time could have been spent on far worthier endeavors. It does make me wonder how long this play of yours was meant to last. Weeks? Months? Certainly not years, right, Callum?"

  Parts of that didn't make sense, but he heard the last implication loud and clear.

  Cal pretended to be deaf to it while widening his connection to the void, letting magic saturate his body and preparing for a scenario far worse than he previously envisioned.

  "I'm not sure what you're referring to," he said boldly, hoping to maintain the lie for even a second longer.

  Ferguson, William, Basem, and the Headmaster. Those were the only ones able to contest him.

  Unless, of course, the Right had arrived.

  "I believe you do," she said, far too at ease for his liking. "The hair can be dyed, but how did you do the eyes?"

  He wasn't ready for this. The fight he could muddle through, but what came after was a different story.

  Would he be able to say goodbye? Should he?

  "I suppose it's not of import," she said breezily, casting the question aside. "But perhaps I'm mistaken, and this is all a misunderstanding. There's a simplistic way to test that. Would you like to try it?"

  The hope was as false as it was convincing.

  Still, what did he have left to lose?

  "Yes," he demanded through gritted teeth.

  With a maddening lack of caution, she opened a drawer of the desk. Her hand dipped inside, coming back with an opaque stone.

  "A stone of Inis," she explained, holding it in her palm as it gained a brown and blue hue. "One of the few we have left. Let it taste your magic, and we shall see what colors it bleeds."

  She placed it flat on the table, and a vine emerged from her chair, pushing the stone toward him. The color faded from it, and it sat there, waiting for him to turn its surface into tar.

  Cal didn't budge, attempting to obliterate the stone with his eyes. It was a cruel joke to offer him something he might need at a time like this.

  He forced his gaze higher, meeting his enemy's victorious smirk.

  It was misplaced. He would show her that.

  "Would you like to know where you erred?" she asked boastfully. "What led me to the truth?"

  Not really.

  It didn't matter now. Nothing mattered now.

  Ancestors, dead gods, to whoever was listening: What did he do now?

  Something in his pocket shifted, but he was distracted by another vine reaching down from the ceiling. It went to the windowsill, wrapping around a clay pot that it then ferried to the desk. An unfamiliar plant was nestled within, vibrant green petals extending from a thin stem and ending in a flower just beginning to bloom.

  "Magnae Viriditas, famous for its resilience," she explained. "Do you know why?"

  The name tickled a memory, but he could not bring himself to care about it.

  "It's because the plant boasts resistance to a great many things—temperature, sunlight, root damage, pest infestation." She paused, then slowly enunciated the next word. "Magic."

  Unbidden, he remembered where he'd heard it. It was the name of the plant he'd dug holes for at the greenhouse during his community service.

  Confusion clouded his mind, dulling his hostility.

  "It is to the extent that only those who share the blood of my house could achieve the feat of nurturing it with magic."

  That must have been her elitism speaking. Cal was no expert, but he was certain about being able to grow that plant if necessary.

  "The keepers were astonished by its rate of growth," she said, gently caressing one of the petals. It seemed to lean into her touch. "They had no explanation for why in a few days it had advanced months. Fortunately, Ethan keeps meticulous records."

  What exactly was she getting at…oh. That wasn't just the same type of plant, was it?

  All fight had left him, replaced with utter bewilderment.

  "I should have known," she said forlornly before her voice gained an edge. "Although I do admit surprise at her indiscretions. To think she'd turn harlot in her time away. It's preferable to that man betraying her trust, but alas, I expected better of Claire."

  Cal was ever so slowly piecing together what she was inferring. He just had a really hard time fully believing it.

  "I," Cal said, getting in a long overdue word, "sped up a plant. That doesn't mean anything."

  Distantly, the Federation agent realized he'd just admitted to using growth magic.

  "Your ability betrays you," she replied, not entertaining his defense. "Only the blood of House Evergreen could result in this rate of growth. I'm uncertain what Claire was thinking. Perchance, she knew your existence would confirm what we knew of her? She always had trouble admitting how childish and willful she was, but I suppose those traits helped her convince that failure of a husband to claim you as his. I would have relished the opportunity to witness his face when she presented you to him after years of hiding your birth."

  Cal was not an Evergreen. He was not an Ardere.

  Hells, he wasn't an anything!

  "I almost didn't tell you," Evergreen said, somehow still having things to say. "Foolish as she was, I wanted to respect my sister's decision."

  Claire was not the fool in this scenario.

  "And then you went into the records room."

  His heart skipped a beat. She…she knew about that?

  "Honestly, did you think your presence would go undetected?" she asked upon seeing his startled expression. "I had an audit run the moment I learned of it. Did you enjoy my employment record?"

  Shit!

  What was he supposed to say? That he thought she was a potential cultist?

  He considered doing just that. Could he even be blamed? Her sanity was so clearly gone.

  All he'd done was grow a stupid plant. Sure, he'd practiced that specific manifestation under what he'd describe as difficult circumstances, but anyone could do it!

  Probably! Maybe!

  He wasn't sure at this point!

  Cal scrambled for an explanation—an out. He didn't expect to be confronted this way. Who would have? Through muddled thoughts, he grasped at the only reasoning offered.

  "I wanted to get to know you better," Cal said with a smile so fragile a breeze would shatter it. "Aunty?"

  Gag him.