“Ingrid was a Haxahaven student, besotted with a Son named Conrad. He asked her to run away with him, and she did, and when he asked her to marry him, she did that, too. But not long after the wedding, her beloved Conrad was overtaken by a rheumatic fever, and all the love and magic in the world could not save him, and she watched her beautiful husband, so young and full of life, fade away to nothing.” He takes another sip and I nod, encouraging him to continue.

“But Ingrid was determined. She was not the type to take this kind of loss lying down.” Ingrid sounds like someone I’d like. My heart aches for her, this stranger from a century ago.

“So, she did every bit of research she could, into forbidden magic, anything that would bring Conrad back to her. She performed a spell to try to reach him beyond the grave and it mucked everything up. Magic is, above all things, energy, and by disrupting the veil she disrupted the flow of energy across the globe.” Ah. There it is. The answer I’ve been looking for. I don’t feel relief, I only feel rising panic.

“For nearly two years, the magic went haywire. People died as a sect of radical magicians attempted to use the magic for their own gain. The last that was heard from Ingrid was a note, left on the altar of Saint Patrick’s Cathedral, explaining and apologizing for her crimes, addressed to the then headmistress of Haxahaven Academy. Then she disappeared forever and magic returned to normal. No one knows what was in the letter except for the headmistresses of Haxahaven Academy. The contents are passed down between them.”

I remember what the duke said in the catacombs about being made immortal one hundred years ago. I can still see the boy with the rubies over his eyes taking his final breaths. He has joined the others in the parade of ghosts who live in my head: Mr. Hues, Mrs. Vykotsky, Boss Olan, the Commissioner. My father may think this is just a story, but I know it’s the truth.

“What happened next?” I whisper.

My father shrugs. “The murders stopped and everyone moved on. There’s very little documentation of the event at all.”

“But—” I have so many more questions. Disappeared forever, that’s what he said happened to Ingrid. Did she disappear to protect herself or was it something more sinister? Was she punished?

He glances at the clock and pushes back from his desk. “I’m sorry to cut this short, but I have a one o’clock class.”

I’ve gotten so much more than I hoped from him this afternoon, but it is still nowhere near enough.

“Please can we talk more, I can meet you after class, I—” I beg as he herds me toward the door.

“Not today, I’m afraid,” he chirps.

“But—” I protest.