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her forehead.

Alex frowned. “You don’t seem fine.”

Natalie changed the subject. “Did class go okay for you?”

Alex shook his head. “Derhin let me out early to come check on you.”

“That is good,” said Natalie weakly.

Alex stared at her for a time, trying to figure out exactly what her symptoms were.

“How do you feel?”

“Dreadful. Like I am getting every illness I never had.”

Alex licked his lips, glancing toward the door. “Are you getting any better?”

Natalie set her jaw. “I am still coming with you on New Year’s Eve to get the book, if that’s what you are asking,” she muttered.

Their plan to raid the Head’s office was only two days away, and Natalie looked closer to a corpse than a living person. Alex watched as she shook, rolling away from him to face the wall.

“I will get better,” she said, her voice full of determination.

Alex ground his teeth. “This is absurd,” he said. “This is an institute of magic. There should be a nurse here, or some kind of medical expert! It should be simple to get rid of an illness, shouldn’t it?”

Natalie coughed. “Wouldn’t that be nice?” she said. “Ella says we don’t have a nurse. Magical energy is supposed to make someone immune to this kind of thing.”

Alex paused. “Then what could it be?”

Natalie rolled back toward him, her eyes full of frustrated tears. She pointed toward a metal bucket at her bedside, which seemed to be the source of the acidic smell. Alex leapt up to retrieve it, and saw that it was indeed filled with vomit.

She drew in a breath, and Alex watched as magic gathered around her. It looked…wrong, somehow. Her magic was not its normal shade of gold; it had a coppery tint that ran through it like diseased veins. As it surged around her, the little veins burned bright red before flashing angrily. The magic vanished. Natalie turned a sickly shade of green and doubled over the bucket, heaving. Alex sat next to her, holding her hair and rubbing her back.

“There,” he said, setting the bucket aside. “Do you feel any better?”

Natalie lay limply against her pillows with a morose expression. “Not really.” She looked over at him, blinking slowly. “What will we do?”

Alex stared at his friend, his jaw working. “I don’t see that we have much of a choice,” he said.

“Alex,” Natalie said, her eyes frantic, “we can’t just give up. We need to—”

“I’ll go alone.”

The words hung in the air. Natalie stared at him, her lips parted.

“But…” she started, but Alex waved a hand.

“You aren’t well,” he said. “You can barely stand, and you won’t be ready in time. I’ll go alone.”

Natalie sighed, looking miserable, but then set her jaw and nodded.

After dabbing her forehead with a cool cloth and getting her fresh water, he left her room, feeling the cold in his bones and the hugeness of the manor around him as he hadn’t done since he’d found her.

Chapter 25

Natalie’s condition did not improve. While she was able to get to her feet, staggering to and from class and summoning paltry displays of magic, Alex had no illusions about her ability to carry out a dangerous nighttime operation in the forbidden sections of the school. Professor Derhin almost threw her out of class when she nearly vomited after attempting a complex control exercise. Alex wished he had, as Natalie clearly needed to rest, but she was being unbelievably stubborn.

“If I cannot come with you,” Natalie said, “I will at least buy you some time.”

Alex eyed the girl with concern. They were in the mechanics’ lab; Alex found that tinkering with the gears and parts often helped him think. He missed his bedroom at home, with its clean lines and its solitude, and his laptop which he’d use to code all night. It was often difficult to concentrate in his dorm room—especially when Jari was excited about something, which was often. While his lack of magic meant he couldn’t create anything nearly as impressive as the rest of his peers, he was happy to tinker and problem-solve.

In this instance, however, his tinkering was somewhat disrupted by the fact that Natalie had splayed herself facedown over his workspace. Her dark hair lay in lank tangles across the table. Alex was left holding the screwdriver Aamir had given him, twirling it in one hand, looking down at her.

“What are you going to do?” he asked, eyeing his friend with a worried frown.

“I do not know,” Natalie said. “Throw up on someone, perhaps. Nobody can make a scene like a French girl.”

Alex smiled forlornly. “Can’t I convince you to go back to bed? There’s some soup in it for you if you do.”

Natalie’s head rolled just enough to reveal a small grin. “Nope,” she said.

Alex waited until it was dark, and all the other students had gone to the dining hall for dinner and the Head’s subsequent speech, before sneaking off into the hallways of the manor. He had memorized the route to the Head’s golden line, and now he retraced those twists and turns, his heart pounding in his ears with every step.

If he was being honest, he wished that he could have listened to the Head’s speech. He hadn’t even seen the man since his admittance into the manor; perhaps something in his words would alleviate some of the mystery of this place. Still, he pressed on, winding through the hallways.

With no windows to look through, Alex found himself thinking about a great many things. About Natalie, who should have been getting medical attention. About the shadow, Elias. About Finder, the ghost of Malachi Grey. About all the homes with empty rooms scattered about the world, waiting for a child who was never coming back. About the Head.

And, not for the first time, he thought about how none of it made any sense.

The line appeared before him almost without warning, leaping out from the dark like a sword swung at his feet. He stopped, hesitating just

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