For the first time, Sigils and Systems might actually be useful. If this plan’s going to work I’ll need to steal a containment jar and bend a few school rules.

Break them, the little voice says at the back of my mind. Somehow, I don’t think Morgan will mind too much.

Except, you could get him expelled, the voice says, punching me in the gut with a fist of guilt and anxiety. I’m not going to let that happen. Morgan might not be too concerned by the idea of expulsion, but, selfishly, I wouldn’t want him to get kicked out, not when it feels like he might be becoming a friend.

Besides, when we succeed—because we will—it won’t matter how many rules we had to break because we’ll be heroes, the ones to figure out what’s really going on here and what happened to Natalie.

10

“No.” Morgan stares at me, his eyes steel discs in the fading light.

It’s drizzling again and we both have our hoods up as we make our way through the forest to a clearing near the bridge. The rain leaves graffiti splatter across his head and shoulders.

“Would you at least try the containment spell?” I hold up the book of sigils I borrowed from Miss Kaneda. I guess borrow might not be entirely accurate, but Morgan doesn’t need to know the details.

“I don’t need that.” He gestures to the book with hands plunged deep into his pockets. “Besides, containment is a piece of cake. It’s the summoning.”

“You make it sound like something bad.” As if he got a mouthful of salty salmiakki when he expected sweet licorice.

“It can be,” he says. “Especially if—”

“It’s not necromancy.” It can’t be, because otherwise that would mean Natalie is dead and there is no flipping way I believe that. And also because that would be teetering precariously close to chaos magic.

“Tai.” He looks up through the thatch of wet curls plastered across his brow.

“Technically, it’s sciomancy. We’d be summoning a ghost, not the dead, if that’s even what I saw. I mean, maybe it wasn’t even a liekkiö.”

“That’s worse!” His gaze is radioactive. “First rule of summoning, don’t ever call up something unknown. There are far more dangerous things than bogles.”

“I know, but this’ll be fine,” I say, willing myself to believe it.

“I’m not doing it.”

My jaw clenches and knuckles turn white where I clutch the book. I’d give anything to be able to do this on my own, but without magic I’m…

Useless, the voice supplies with glee.