Oliver tried to hide his sigh. “Yes, Mom.” The phone felt hot and sticky in his hand. He had put off calling home for weeks now, and he knew he couldn’t keep ignoring his mom’s messages on his voicemail. She thought texting was unlucky, like the information might be captured by some evil entity. “Airin is fine. We have music theory together.”

“You need to keep Airin as close to you as possible, which is why we insisted they go to school with you. You need to be protected, Ollie.” Mom always asked more about Airin than about him. Only his mother called him Ollie. Dad insisted on calling him Junior, even though he was named after his mother. Sola, West, and Airin believed that chosen names were important, so they called him Oliver. A few people at school had asked if they could call him Ollie, but he thought it sounded too childish.

“I understand.” Arguing was pointless. Since he was small, his parents had drilled him constantly on the importance of Airin and their family to the Darklighters. Sola says it’s a myth. Mom was very superstitious, though, and Dad hated giving up an ounce of power to anyone.

Oliver wasn’t going to let Airin exceed him in anything, but he knew he needed to Airin nearby if he wanted to stay at Eclipse. “I don’t want Zephyr to win the quad battle,” he said now. “I need this win so I can keep my seat in the high school orchestra. They have me on probation because I’m in middle school!”

“I know the high school orchestra is important to you, Ollie. But it’s not as important as conserving as much magic as possible. You will need your magic to take over the family business as an adult. Better for you to be moved back to the middle school orchestra than to lose that power. You only have two more years of middle school.”

“You and dad should move somewhere with more magic. There’s got to be somewhere that would work.”

“Oliver, I know what is best for the Darklighter family. We can’t afford to make any mistakes.”

“Okay, Mom.” Oliver was kind of glad she couldn’t see him rolling his eyes. “I need to go to my lesson with Magister now. Goodbye.”

“Call me next week, Ollie.”

“Okay, Mother.”

They had this argument regularly. Mom was so afraid of losing the family’s magic that she refused to consider any sensible solutions. Why does Dad go along with her? Does he believe her silly superstitions, too?

Mom thought their ancestral home was lucky. How can it be good if it doesn’t hold any more magic? Moving would be a simple solution to the problem.

Only when Oliver played the cello did he feel completely free. He didn’t want to take over the family enchanting business. The failing family enchanting business.

Sure, magic was cool and fun. But his parents would be horrified if Oliver did the things it would take to restore their magic reserves, like moving closer to a ley line. And it’d be years before they’d let him take over anyway. He’d waste years barely working magic, with his parents breathing down his neck every minute.

No, it would be better to play the cello in some big orchestra, like in Vienna or Japan. Far away from New York, where his parents lived. Then he would only use magic for small things, like making his hair behave before a concert. He could revive the family business after he had toured the world and played under the most famous conductors.

Mom and Dad wanted him to go to the other magic school for wizards, which was on a strong lay line. There, he could draw magic from the line without expending the family supply. If there even was a family supply. It makes no sense that Mom thinks it’s okay for me to use a ley line for school, but not for them to use one for the family business.

The only reason they had let Oliver come to Eclipse was Magister. He had managed to talk them into letting Oliver study music at EA and continue to take private lessons from him. And Magister had set up the magical enchanting track just for Oliver—though there were about five other students in it, all from powerful families that the Darklighters competed with. Families the Darklighters wanted to impress.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

At least Magister was here to keep teaching Oliver the cello. Magister was one of the greatest cellists who had ever lived. Oliver didn’t know why he chose to teach at a school like EA, but he was glad he did. Magister couldn’t play anymore; the arthritis in his hands was too much for the best healers. But Magister knew the cello, and he knew how to teach Oliver to make it sing. It sounded like freedom.

Oliver carefully packed his cello into its bag and hefted it onto his shoulders. It was a full-size cello, almost as big as he was. But it never felt too big when he was playing. It felt like a friend. A partner in music.

He headed out the door and down the stairs to the quad common area. Someone had redecorated it all in orange, which the quad leader had chosen as their quad color. It attracted attention, at least.

As he rounded the corner, he overheard two students talking.

Eighth graders. I don’t remember their names.

“She got her mom to help them with the quad battle. You know her mom’s a celebrity! It’s totally against the rules, and that’s not fair!”

Oliver felt his face turning red. Stinking Zephyr Suite! How dare they use Ephy’s mom to win the battle. He was going to make sure they were disqualified.

He nodded at the eighth graders as he emerged into the common room and passed them. They hushed and smiled awkwardly at him.

Racing down the hallway, he made his plan of attack. Magister would believe him. Magister always believed him.

He arrived ten minutes early for his lesson. Magister, who was always early, glanced up and raised his eyebrows. “You’re early, Mr. Darklighter.”

“I was wondering if I could talk to you about something, Magister. There are some rumors. About the quad battle.”

“Rumors? Not facts?”

“Well, I’m sure you could easily find the facts, but I’m not sure I could find them myself.” Magister liked compliments.

“I see. Are you being bullied? In trouble?”

“It’s about the quad battle. Everyone in the common room was talking about Zephyr Suite getting Ephronia’s mom to help them win.”

Well, technically, it was true. There had only been two people in the common room at the time. Oliver was still in the hallway.

“And you think that I can find out if that is true?”

“Yes, sir. I want to know the truth.”

“Are you prepared to accept it if that is not the truth and simply a rumor?”

Oliver hesitated. But the students had sounded so certain, so it had to be true, right? Ephy’s mom was a TV celebrity. There were other celebrity parents at EA, but he couldn’t think of another one in their quad.

He chose his words carefully. “I would be glad to find out it’s not the truth and that they are competing fairly.”

Magister’s face was hard to read, but he finally nodded. “I will see what I can find out.”

“Thank you, sir. I want the battle to be fair for everyone.” Especially for me.

Magister paused and then said, “Sit down, Mr. Darklighter, I actually wanted to discuss something else with you as well.” His voice took on a serious edge.

Oliver set his cello down next to his practice chair and sat down. “Yes, Magister.” A ball of anxiety rolled around in his stomach.

“You have been much more distracted since you came to Eclipse Arts. This is not like you. Is it the battle you are worried about?” Oh. That. “Not really, sir.”

“Your parents? They let you come here, so I don’t imagine they would pull you out now.”

Oliver stared at his hands.

“I see. When was the last time you spoke with your parents?”

“I…I spoke to Mom on the phone just before coming to my lesson. She sends her regards.” Mom loved manners and would have wanted him to say that.

“Is she upset with you about anything?”

“Not exactly, sir.” Oliver didn’t know how to answer without telling Magister all the Darklighter family secrets. “It’s not really about me, but my parents are having a difficult time.”

Magister frowned. “At twelve years old, you shouldn’t be burdened with that.”

Does Magister really believe that? “They think it will affect me in the long term. Business has been...not great. They want me to take over one day, but I guess enchanted items are not as in demand as they used to be.”

Magister stared at Oliver, the creases around his eyes deepening.

“And what do you want?”

“I want to play the cello in a big orchestra! Go on solo tours! Play music the rest of my life.”

“You don’t want to be an enchanter?” Magister sounded genuinely curious.

Oliver shook his head. “At least, not for a while. But I’m an only child. Who else will take over the Darklighter business?”

“There are always more solutions than we might think.” Magister cleared his throat, but it sounded like a rumble of thunder. “I know you are very dedicated to your playing. And if that is your dream, then you must follow it as long as you can. I will help you become the best cellist you can. You should let your parents worry about their business. You cannot help them until after you graduate anyway. Focus on the cello for now.”

Oliver nodded, wishing there was a solution that would make both him and his parents happy.