“Wait,” I say once my brain has processed what MacCrone said. “Swamp gas. Like a liekkiö?” Maybe it’s connected. It has to be. Why else would MacCrone bring up swamp gas?

“No idea what that is.” MacCrone shifts from foot to foot.

“It’s chaos magic, isn’t it? Someone is practicing again—that’s why no one wants to talk about it,” Morgan says.

“Don’t be daft,” MacCrone says far too quickly.

“How else do you defeat a battle mage?”

“No one’s dabbling about with any of that, little druid, and if anyone was, we’d know.” She taps the device clipped to her utility belt.

“Is that a Zeiger counter?” There’s a hint of awe in Morgan’s voice.

“Designed by Arch Mage Zeiger, founder of the battle mages,” I say. “They’re used to trace chaotic energy.”

“Oh, I know. Just never seen one before,” he says.

“This is what I was looking for in your father’s office, if you must know.” MacCrone rests her hand on the magical multimeter. “Few of these left in the world. Not much for it to detect though. And nothing for it to detect here.”

It makes sense for Dad to have one considering his job authenticating relics. Wouldn’t want to accidentally put a chaos relic into a museum when the UCMW has issued an edict to destroy all such artifacts.

“You sure about that?” I ask.

“Yes,” MacCrone says. “So put the matter clear out of your heads and return to doing whatever it is kids your age do best.”

“Anarchy and rebellion.” Morgan deadpans. “And you still haven’t told us about Natalie or the others.”

Concern creases MacCrone’s wrinkled face and lingers a little too long before morphing back into her typical scowl. “Trust the grown-ups to handle this.”

Morgan makes a derisive scoffing sound.

“Now off with you before I let Fiona eat your fingers.”

The lizard has returned, surprisingly silent despite the length of her claws. She nudges my pockets and flicks a forked tongue at my empty hand.

“Off with you,” MacCrone says. “Best we all forget about what happened this night.”

I feel so close to uncovering the truth. “But, we—”

“Not another word unless you’d like to have this conversation with Principal Turunen,” MacCrone directs her words at Morgan and points to the stairs.

“Please, just tell us. Natalie is my friend. I need to know if she’s all right.” Emotion turns my words into spiky sea urchins on my tongue. Maybe it’s my tears or the way Morgan takes my hand and mutters a comforting “It’ll be all right” that finally softens MacCrone’s shriveled prune of a heart.

“Natalie will be fine. She’s got the blood of fire giants in her veins. Them all’s made of fierce magic and will be right as rain if you leave me to do my job.”