Pascal nods. A knowing smile spreads across his face. “Ahh, I’m afraid you won’t find the instructors at Saint Bosco’s very… forthcoming.”

The crowd of students in the halls is thinning. A second bell chimes—we don’t have long before Pascal will be drawn back to class.

“What do you mean?”

“The curriculum is strict. The professors don’t encourage free thinking. It’s why I so enjoy my extracurricular lessons with Oliver. They are a welcome change of pace.”

I deflate. “So the library is my best resource for more information?” The idea of combing through more historical texts searching for anything remotely relevant feels like returning to square one. I can’t bear it.

Pascal narrows his eyes. “Perhaps not. There is a community of people just outside the city, a group of young magicians who live together in harmony, who dream of a better world. They share magical knowledge freely. I lived there all of last summer before returning to the city for university. I go back as often as I can. It’s only a short train ride away.”

“Can you take me?” The question bursts out of my mouth, the desperation clear, spilled all over the floor of Saint Bosco’s.

Pascal quirks his head, curious, but not unkind. “Of course.”

“How soon?”

“Monday, with your friends? We can meet here and travel together.”

It’s perfect. We already had plans to tour Saint Bosco’s together anyways.

A third bell chimes. Pascal glances up the stairs. “I’m sorry, ma cherie, but I must go now. I will see you soon! Give Maxine and Lena my fondest regards!”

Sometimes I picture my magic as a living creature, small and curled up and golden in the space right behind my heart. It’s weak now, but it’s still breathing, and I’m not giving up on it. I’m not giving up. I’ve fought too hard for it.

“Thank you!” I call after him as he bounds up the stairs.

I step out onto the quiet cobblestone street, and pick up the pace of my steps. I can’t get away from the school quickly enough. I’m walking like I can outrun myself, when the skinny heel of my boot catches on the edge of a cobblestone, sending me careening to the ground. Panting, I push myself up off the ground and assess the damage. I’m all right; I’ve escaped the fall with two scraped palms and a bruised knee. The blood from my hands runs down the tips of my fingers. I wipe it on a handkerchief in my bag and set off once more, with a pounding heart and a single question plaguing me. What have I done? What have Finn and I done?

CHAPTER EIGHT

Are you all right?” Lena asks me later that night at the DuPre family flat.