“And it was very advanced,” Bri says. “Heat seeking magic isn’t something I’ve ever seen done. Only heard of it anecdotally, which is why I didn’t think of it first.”

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Zora says.

“The only person capable of that advanced level of magic is—”

“The Chancellor,” I say as an eeriness moves over me. I peer in every direction but find only an audience of broken windows and crumbled buildings. I hug around myself, trying to make sense of the shadows between and inside them. He is watching. Somehow…

“We need to get off these streets. And soon.”

Bri shoulders her bag, Zora tucks her weapon under her arm, Jhamal sturdies his shield, and we take off in a full sprint.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

THE MOON GLOWS OVERHEAD and my thighs ache. We can’t be far off now.

Bri is still shook, dragging behind us. She used some purple potion to make a duplicate of her shoe, so she can at least walk normally again. She’s not even looking in her bag anymore, just eyes straight ahead like she’s seen a ghost. I take it she’s never been shot at before. I want to tell her to find that oomph she had when she followed my captors after my arrest.

A herd of cats scatter when we cross the next intersection. We segue under Rosh Bridge and head up Creets Walk. One of the dormitory towers is up ahead. It used to be two towers connected by a bridge over a courtyard, but only one tower still stands, and a huge chunk of it is missing. The lush green that used to sit below where I’d fold over my spell book or eat lunch outside is a sandbox of glass shards and broken stone.

“We really should stop soon, for a minute,” Zora says.

“For what?”

She looks at me but says nothing. I try to read her pressed lips, but she’s otherwise stoic. What does she think of me? I wonder. She’s been much nicer than Kai. But she keeps to herself.

“We used to study over there,” I say to her, pointing to the quad courtyard, an abandoned field of rotting trees and overturned benches.

“Learn anything good?” she asks, her expression twisted with sarcasm. “Oh wait… the Chancellor knows nothing about the magic he purports as his own.” Her jaw pulses and it’s the Yakanna in her that shines now.

“My daddy never trusted him,” I say to her. The way the Chancellor had stormed into their village with magic he’d unearthed just felt too convenient. “Everyone was so sick, I remember Aasim explaining.” But they knew whatever magic he’d had must have been stolen. So they pretended to entertain his offer. Then fled.