After dinner, I found Mari lounging on one of the oversized sofas in the common room, a book in hand and a look of serene confidence on her face. She put the book down when she saw me.

"Ty," she said, sitting up. "I'm glad you came. This will be quick, I promise."

Quick sounded good. I still had no idea what Riley and Tilda had in store for me.

"We're running low on several herbs for our potion stores," Mari said. "I need you to take inventory in the alchemy lab and let me know what we're missing."

She handed me a parchment with a list of herbs and ingredients. It looked like a shopping list for a very esoteric Whole Foods.

"No problem," I said, taking the list. "I can handle that."

"I’m sure you can," she said, and there was something almost flirtatious in her tone. Or maybe I was just hoping. "Accuracy is important, so take your time."

With the list in hand, I made my way to the alchemy lab, which was more like a mad scientist's dream kitchen. Glass beakers and brass scales cluttered the countertops, and the whole place had a lingering smell of burnt rosemary.

I started working through the list, checking jars and bins. Eye of newt? Plenty. Dragonwort? Almost gone. Mandrake root? Who even uses that stuff anymore?

Halfway through, I heard footsteps. Riley appeared in the doorway, her hair now an indigo bob that matched the dark circles under her eyes.

"So, how's the hazing going?" she asked.

"Mari’s been gentle so far," I said. "Can’t speak for the rest of you."

She leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. "You might want to save your judgment until you've finished her task."

I held up the list. "This? Easy."

Riley smirked. "If you say so. Anyway, I need you to do something for me before you finish that."

Of course she did.

"The scrying pool on the roof needs cleaning. It’s supposed to be Tilda’s turn, but she’s swamped. Can you handle it?"

Could I say no? Probably not. Should I say no? Definitely. But I nodded anyway. "Sure. After I finish here."

"You're a doll," Riley said, already walking away. "Oh, and don’t fall in. The visions can be... overwhelming."

I cursed under my breath and went back to the list, rushing now. I had a whole new appreciation for the term "double duty." I finished the inventory—mostly accurate, I hoped—and headed to the roof.

The scrying pool was a large, shallow basin that looked suspiciously like a bird bath for oversized ravens. It shimmered with a silvery liquid that reminded me of mercury, dangerous and alluring. I grabbed a nearby ladle and bucket, unsure how to even start.

A voice called up from below. "Ty!"

I looked over the edge of the roof to see Tilda in the courtyard, waving something in her hand.

"I have a book for you! It’s for the task Mari assigned!"

Seriously? I thought. I climbed down, careful not to break my neck, and met Tilda by the herb garden.

"Mari said you’d need this to identify the herbs," Tilda explained, handing me a thick tome titled "Herbal Compendium for the Discerning Witch."

"I already finished the inventory," I said, probably sounding more annoyed than I meant to. "She didn't mention a book."

Tilda shrugged. "She likes to test people. The book makes it a lot easier. You can always go back and double-check."

Wonderful. More work.

"Oh, and Ty," Tilda added, hesitating. "After you’re done with whatever you’re doing... I could use some help with a ritual. It’s important."

I sighed inwardly. Outwardly, I smiled. "Sure. What’s the ritual?"

"Just come find me when you’re done. I’ll explain then."

Great. Another mystery task. I headed back to the roof, cursing my life choices. The scrying pool still needed attention, and I wasn't even sure how long that would take. I thought about just chucking the bucket over the side and calling it a day, but if the visions were really that intense, who knows what I'd unleash?

I dipped the ladle into the pool, and a swirl of images burst forth: faces, landscapes, creatures. It was like dunking my head into a kaleidoscope. I poured the liquid carefully into the bucket, trying not to breathe in any prophetic fumes. The whole process took longer than I expected, and my arms were jelly by the end.

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I stood back, proud of my work, and promptly knocked the bucket over with my foot. The liquid splashed across the rooftop, and a whirlpool of visions exploded into the air. I saw fragments of the future: me, running from a horde of enchanted brooms; me, trapped in a book; me, kissing—

And that was just Task One.

I staggered down from the roof, head spinning from the accidental vision overdose. Bits and pieces of what I’d seen flickered in my mind like a broken movie reel: angry brooms, talking books, forbidden kisses. If any of it was true, I was in for a hell of a semester.

I made my way back to the common room, hoping to find Mari and tell her about the inventory—minus the part where I rushed it. She wasn’t there, but Riley was, sprawled out on a chaise lounge with an aura of smug satisfaction.

"How's the pool?" she asked, not looking up from the crystal ball she was fiddling with.

"Clean," I said. "But I might have inhaled some futures."

Riley laughed. "Consider it extra credit. So, what did you see?"

"Enough to know I’m screwed."

"Visions aren’t set in stone, you know. They’re more like highly suggestive doodles."

"Comforting," I said, though it really wasn’t. "Hey, do you know where Mari is? I need to let her know about the inventory."

Riley set down the crystal ball and stretched, cat-like. "She’s in the alchemy lab. Probably wondering why you haven’t told her yet."

Fantastic. I headed toward the lab, dreading the encounter. If Mari was the type to test people without telling them, who knew what she’d think of my half-assed attempt?

I opened the lab door to find Mari measuring out powders on a set of antique scales. She looked up, and for a moment I thought I saw a flash of annoyance. Or maybe it was disappointment. Either way, I was doomed.

"Ty," she said, her tone neutral. "How’s the scrying pool?"

"Clear as a bell," I said. "Riley mentioned you were here, so I thought I’d let you know about the inventory. We're low on dragonwort, griffin feathers, and a few other things."

She wiped her hands on a cloth, then walked over to me. "Did you verify everything yourself?"

"I—" What could I say? That I tried, but mostly guessed? That I didn’t even know what half the stuff looked like? "I did my best."

Mari studied me for a long second. "Your best," she repeated, and I braced for the smackdown. "That’s all we can ask. Thank you, Ty."

Wait, was that approval? I couldn’t tell. These girls were like emotional Rubik’s cubes.

"I have the book now," I said, holding up the Herbal Compendium. "I can go back and double-check if you want."

Mari smiled, and this time it reached her eyes. "That would be great. But don’t kill yourself over it. We know you have other commitments."

Other commitments. Like the potentially lethal ritual with Tilda and whatever else Riley decided to dump on me. Still, if Mari was willing to cut me some slack, maybe the others would too.

I left the lab feeling slightly less like dead meat and headed back to the common room. Riley was gone, thank God, but Tilda was there now, knitting something purple and sparkly.

"Tilda," I said, and she looked up with that disarmingly sweet smile. "I’m ready for the ritual."

She set her knitting down and stood. "Thank you, Ty. I know you’re busy."

"Yeah, about that," I said, scratching the back of my head. "Are these tasks meant to, like, crush my spirit? Because if so, you guys are doing an excellent job."

Tilda laughed, a soft, musical sound. "We just want to see what you're made of. It’s nothing personal."

"So, what’s the ritual?"

"It’s for Elara," Tilda said, referring to the founder of their house. "We light a candle in her honor every week. It’s a simple thing, but it means a lot to us."

I could see where this was going. Something that "meant a lot" was never actually simple.

"Okay," I said. "What do I need to do?"

Tilda held out a slender, blue candle. "Take this to the shrine in the library and light it using Elara’s lantern. Make a wish for wisdom. That’s all."

I took the candle from her, and she touched my arm lightly. "We’re not trying to make it hard for you, Ty. We just want to see if you can keep up."

I wanted to believe her, but something told me that keeping up was the least of my problems. Surviving was another matter entirely.

I headed to the library, which was deserted and eerily quiet. Tall shelves groaned under the weight of ancient tomes, and the air was thick with the smell of vellum and ink. In a corner near the back, I found the shrine to Elara Wisenforth. It looked like a repurposed fireplace, with a bronze bust of Elara on the mantel and various trinkets and offerings cluttering the hearth.

A soft glow came from a lantern hanging above the bust. I stood on tiptoe and stretched the wick of the candle toward the lantern's flame. It caught slowly, the fire creeping along the wax like a hesitant lover.

I thought about the tasks piling up: the herb inventory, the scrying pool, whatever Tilda’s real ritual was... How was I going to manage it all? I closed my eyes and made a wish, not for wisdom, but for some kind of magical time management skills.

The sound of footsteps interrupted my prayer. I turned to see Mari, Riley, and Tilda approaching. Great. Now what?

"You’re probably wondering why we put you through all this," Mari said. The three of them stood in a line, like a jury about to deliver a verdict.

"Initiations are supposed to bond people," Riley said. "Make them feel like part of the team."

Had I complained too much? Was this the part where they kicked me out and sent me to live with the warlocks?

"We’ve been watching," Tilda said, "and we’re impressed."

Wait, what?

"You mean he’s cute enough to keep," Riley said, teasing but not unkindly.

I looked at Mari, who I figured was the ringleader. She nodded. "You’ve shown that you can juggle multiple responsibilities. That you’re willing to help, even when it’s inconvenient."

"So I’m not doomed?" I asked, half-joking, half-serious.

The girls laughed, and for the first time, it felt genuine.

"We still need to see how you perform in class," Mari said. "But for now, you’re one of us."

Relief washed over me. This was only the beginning, but at least I wasn’t starting from zero.

"Come on," Riley said. "Let’s get some cocoa."

They turned to leave, but I stayed a moment longer, watching the blue candle flicker. Maybe this wouldn’t be so impossible after all.