A small thrill went through me. What was wrong with me these days? The Order was clearly rubbing off in ways that were most uncharacteristic. I quickly pointed at the paper. ‘He’s written a note to himself. Look.’

Winter looked more closely. ‘Milk. Bread. Washing-up liquid. Hardly the magic bullet we’re looking for.’

‘Yeah, but it worked! Without using any magic at all, I can now read exactly what’s going on in his life. It’s like I’m Nancy Drew.’

‘Go you,’ he murmured. He moved away and crouched down by the desk. ‘Warded. If can I get the right herbs to open this…’

I sketched out my old reliable spell for him and all three drawers popped open. ‘There you go.’ I curtsied. ‘You’re welcome.’

Winter turned and stared at me. ‘You just opened that.’

Well, duh. ‘Yeah.’

‘But it’s warded.’

Puzzled, I put my hands on my hips. ‘Not very strongly.’

‘Show me that rune.’

His tone brooked no argument. I shrugged; it was no skin off my nose. I re-sketched the rune, this time aiming for the final locked drawer on the other side of the desk. It burst open, banging into Winter’s leg. He didn’t move, however; he just watched my hands. ‘That’s not a known rune.’

‘You know all the runes?’

‘I have an almost eidetic memory, Ivy. I’ve trained myself to remember. That is not a rune I’ve ever seen before.’

This line of questioning was becoming uncomfortable. ‘So? I developed it on my own.’

He took a step towards me. ‘‘Do you have any idea how unusual that is?’

I sighed. ‘Only because the Order sticks to tradition and traditional runes.’

‘No. They stick to traditional runes because it’s incredibly difficult to create new ones. There’s an entire research and development department dedicated to the art and even they only manage a new rune once every few months.’ Something indefinable glinted in his eyes. ‘I think I’m beginning to understand you properly now.’

I didn’t have the faintest idea what he was talking about. ‘I’m not a thief,’ I began. ‘I don’t go around breaking and entering. It’s just a rune I developed to help me in case I lose my house keys.’

He held up his hands. ‘Don’t get all defensive.’

‘Don’t get all enigmatic. What do you mean, you understand me now?’

‘You could have fought harder against your expulsion. Yes, your boyfriend has friends in high places but if you’d shouted louder, people would have listened. You didn’t though. You wanted to be expelled.’

My mouth dropped open. ‘What? At the time I bloody didn’t.’

He was watching me like a hawk. ‘Maybe not consciously.’ He dropped his voice. ‘You were bored.’

I was beginning to get irritated. ‘So? Being a Neophyte isn’t exactly exciting. I’m sure you remember that with your specially trained memory.’

‘I loved every minute.’ He still hadn’t taken his eyes off of me. ‘It’s lazy-genius syndrome.’

‘Huh?’

‘You’re unpredictable. Life doesn’t stimulate you enough so you all but give up on it. The Order moves too slowly for someone of your abilities so it was probably a relief when they kicked you out. It’s more common than you realise; lots of clever people end up checking out. It’s a defined psychological syndrome.’