As graceful as a bird, the lady approached him slowly. “So you’re my new pupil. Another foundling to be trained.” She stopped in front of him and took his chin into her cold hand so that she could examine his features. “You look familiar to me. Who’s your father?”

Ryuichi flinched at the question he loathed more than anything. Now the others would know.

And they would shun him.

“I don’t know, Sensei,” he said politely. “He was killed in battle and his name forgotten.”

Her eyes narrowed for an instant, so quick he could have imagined it, before a kind smile curved her lips. “Then we will be your family, Mahōtsukai Ryuichi.” She glanced around to the other students. “Is that not right?”

“Yes, Sensei,” the others said in unison.

Ryuichi wanted to believe they agreed with her, but experience had taught him otherwise. What people said and what they did were seldom the same.

“Kasumi!”

She turned at the sharp call.

A tall warrior stood in the doorway, eyeing them all. “Are all your students here?”

“They are,” she replied.

“Good. Keep them indoors while we expel our unwanted guests.” The door closed behind him, and he was gone.

Jiro scratched his head. “What’s going on, Sensei?”

“They say the Ryukage has sent his agents out to locate what has been hidden from him.”

“Here?” Pim asked.

She nodded soberly. “They’ve been searching everywhere. For years. It was only a matter of time before they made their way to our walls.” She glanced about. “It’s a dark night, children. Best you get in your beds while we fortify our wards and make sure to seal the walls from those who would harm you.”

Jiro bowed to her. “We will be careful.”

She turned to leave—and, to his shock, Ryuichi realized she was a kitsune from the small fox tail that peeped out from beneath her kimono.

Oddly, no one else seemed to notice. Perhaps they were used to it.

What other surprises were waiting at this school?

* * *

The demon Kagi drew back as a sorcerer’s blast barely missed him. He wanted to return fire, but his orders had been simple: Find the scent of the Ryukage’s heir.

He’d found it, all right. Then lost it.

“Where are you?” This school was the last place he’d caught a whiff.

Now . . .

There was nothing.

If he didn’t find the right brat, Ryukage would disembowel him.

Haruki pulled up alongside him. As usual, her long, white hair was worn in a taregami, with a band of red fabric flowers keeping her hair from her face. Her skin was as white as her hair, and not because of cosmetics. That was her natural skin tone, as were the red eyes that made everyone around her uncomfortable.

Even demons.

And she was the last creature he wanted to face. “Well?”