I do actually go to the bathroom. No sense in making it more obvious than it may already have been that I was lying, and besides I can lock myself in a toilet stall and be sure no-one will disturb me, like Mildred did that time –

I stop that thought before it has a chance to fully form. Timothy the Peacemaker. Maria the Seafarer. I get as far as Alfred the Short before my breathing feels calm enough and my anger at Felicity is contained. No sense in staying longer; I need to be back quickly enough that my excuse remains somewhat plausible.

So, reluctantly, I return to the classroom.

“Ah, Tallulah,” says Felicity, a cold smile that reminds me faintly of Electra playing across her face. “I trust your… women’s troubles… are under control now?”

Does she know the real reason I left, or is she just trying to embarrass me in front of the class? “Yes,” I say, returning to my seat. “Thank you.”

“Since Edward is unable to perform his demonstration, would you care to go next?”

I blink. Edward failed? What in stars’ names did she expect of him? I shoot him an anxious glance. He’s tense, I can tell, struggling to not fight back against whatever she did.

And now it’s my turn to go up there and humiliate myself for her petty satisfaction. I want to refuse her, but I have no justification for such a refusal and she’d only use it to give me detention if I tried.

No, I don’t want to refuse her. I want to wipe that smug look off her face by casting a flawless illusion of James the Wise’s portrait. Except I can’t.

Can’t you, Tallulah?

I remember Edward telling me about how to add more details to purely visual illusions. It might seem like there’s a difference between a simple coloured square and a detailed scene, but on a conceptual level that isn’t the case. It’s just a case of convincing yourself of that. You’re not trying to paint a scene: just take the image that’s in your mind and make it real.

He made it sound so simple, but I never managed it. It wasn’t important, though: the technique isn’t that useful unless you’re planning to specialise in illusions, and no-one (I thought) would expect me to be capable of it at this level.

Given a few hours to work on it and Edward’s patient coaching, I think I could learn to cast illusions that way. Right now, though? It’s impossible.

And some mad part of me sees that impossibility as a challenge.

“Yes,” I say, with considerably more confidence than I feel. “I’m ready.”

I walk to the front of the class, without taking my eyes off Felicity. She’s still looking at me as if she’s certain I’m going to fail, but I’m not quite so convinced any more.

Take the image that’s in your mind and make it real.

I close my eyes and think of the portrait. I don’t focus on its details, I just imagine it hanging in the air in front of me, so close I could reach out and touch it. The rest is simple, in theory: I’ve practiced simpler illusions enough that my fingers instinctively make the right pattern, and I whisper my incantation: from nothingness.

Then I open my eyes and see the illusion hanging there. It’s a perfect scale reproduction of the portrait that hangs in the dining hall. I want to laugh with joy and surprise, but that would ruin the moment. “Is this satisfactory?” I ask Felicity, meeting her eyes.

The look on her face in that moment is certainly satisfactory. “I – yes. Yes, it is.”

Edward shoots me a triumphant smile as I return to my seat.

“What did she ask you to do?” I ask as we walk to our next lesson.

“Specific animation,” Edward replies.

“We haven’t covered that in class, have we?”

“Do you really think I wouldn’t have been able to do it if we had?”

He has a point. “And you…”

“Pointed that out, obviously. She wasn’t too happy about that. I didn’t want to push her too far, though, I figured she’d take it out on you when you came back. Speaking of which… was that actually what you said it was?”

I shake my head subtly. I don’t really want to admit it was an episode in public, but he’ll be able to work it out.

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

He narrows his eyes. “Then you haven’t been practicing with illusions like that?”

I shrug. “No. It just… happened.”

Now he mentions it, that is a little strange. Normally when I successfully cast a tricky new spell it’s after hours of practice, working alone or with only Edward there, gradually convincing myself that I understand what I’m doing and am capable of it.

Not suddenly getting it right first time under pressure, after not having touched it for weeks.

What was different about that moment?

There are only a few days now before the tests begin, and everyone but Edward is revising harder than ever. He does come to our group study sessions still, though I’m pretty sure it’s just to humour me. And he does occasionally contribute when we’re all struggling with a tricky topic, explaining it in a way that makes it sound obvious.

The study room door creaks open, and we all look up from our work or books to see Mildred poking her head around the corner. My heart sinks a little.

“Hello, everyone,” she says with fake cheer. “Studying hard, I see? I was wondering if I might join you. I find I work so much better in a group, you see.” She steps inside without waiting for an answer, letting the door swing shut behind her.

“No,” says Edward.

“Thank you so much, everyone. What are you working on at – I’m sorry, did you just say no?” Her face is a picture of confusion.

“I did,” Edward says, not looking up from his book. “We don’t want you here.”

Mildred’s expression twists into something ugly for a second, and then she recovers herself. “I suppose you wouldn’t, would you? But it doesn’t seem as if you’re part of the group I’m joining.”

She crosses to the table with the poise of a dancer, almost seeming to float across the ground.

I don’t quite know what the right move is, because I don’t know what her game is. I want her to just go away and leave us alone, but maybe she’s trying to bait us into a confrontation and telling her that will just be giving her what she wants.

Edward is silent, pretending to be absorbed in his book still, but he’s hoping one of us will back him up and tell her to leave.

We’re all looking at each other, though, none of us quite prepared to say it.

“You see?” Mildred says. “I’m perfectly welcome here.” She pulls out the last empty chair.

“What do you want, Mildred?” I ask, frustrated. I can’t play the games she plays, so maybe I should just get straight to the point.

For a moment I expect it to be something awful, but she hesitates for a second and then says “Why should I want anything more than to work with others and to spend time with you all?”

“If you think any of us are going to believe that after everything you did to Tallulah, “ Edward says, “then…” he lets his voice fade away.

I tense. I trust Elsie, Elizabeth and Robin, but I don’t want the details of that affair being dredged up again. Could she deliberately reveal it as a way of hurting us? I don’t think so, but…

“Actually,” Mildred says, “I wanted to apologise to her.”

I’m confused for a second. She’s not sorry for what she did; even if she regrets it, I don’t doubt she would have done the same again for a chance of saving her father. And she must know I know that, so why –

Oh. This is a performance for the benefit of the others. The very fact none of them know the full truth means that she can spin her own tale of events to frame her in a better light.

“Say whatever you have to say,” I reply. “I’m listening.”

“I wasn’t thinking clearly, not for the whole awful affair until it was nearly too late. I was grieving my father before he was even dead, desperately trying to find a way to deny reality. I lashed out at you, that day in the library. I was looking for someone to blame, and there you were. I didn’t mean the things I said, not really; I shouldn’t have said them.”

Stars, she’s a good actress. I almost want to believe her.

“No,” I agree, choosing my words carefully. “You shouldn’t have.”

“And then – I suppose I must have panicked. I was convinced your response made you, well…”

“Unstable,” I finish. I’m not letting her dance around the reality of what happened and her own actions if I can help it.

Mildred nods. “I didn’t know enough about Malaina at the time. I believed you were dangerous. I believed what I was doing was for the best, even if…”

I want so much to tell her that she’s lying, to tell the real story. The only thing holding me back is the thought that that might be what she wants me to do. If not that, then, what should I do? I can’t even pretend to forgive her.

“You nearly cost me my freedom,” I say instead, letting a little of my anger and frustration leak into my voice. “That’s not something that can be fixed just by apologising. Is it?”

She sighs. “I never claimed it would. But it needed to be said. And I hope – I hope it can be a new beginning.”

I force myself to stay calm and take a few seconds to find the right words. “I don’t think I can be friends with someone who did that to me. No matter their reasons.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Mildred replies. “If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me.”

I will never change my mind, not on this. I don’t say as much, though.

“And as for you, Blackthorn? I hope you’re satisfied now.”

She leaves without another word, leaving an awkward silence in her wake.

“So,” says Robin after a few seconds. “We were talking about the Byrd-Thomas theory of enchanting, I believe?”

“Yes,” I say, seizing the opportunity to distract everyone from Mildred. “The thing I don’t understand about it is – “

“Are we really just going to pretend that didn’t happen?” Elsie asks.

“Yup,” says Edward without looking up. None of us contradict him.

Maybe I should have, though. Because Elsie never found out the truth; for all I know she might believe every word Mildred said. And she was close to Mildred before the incident in the library. Perhaps part of her regrets cutting a former friend out of her life, wants to rebuild her friendship with Mildred.

And the only way for me to stop that is to tell her the truth. So that is what I resolve to do.

It isn’t quite that simple. Mostly because a little part of me is scared that she won’t believe me. That’s why we kept the secret during my isolation: it sounds like a conspiracy theory I concocted to avoid having to face the consequences of my episode.

Elsie and I have been friends for a month since then, though. She knows me and trusts me and understands that I wouldn’t do something like that. It’ll be okay to tell her.

That’s not the only thing giving me hesitation: part of the story is made up of the Blackthorns’ secrets. And neither of them would be happy with me if they found out I’d been revealing them, even to a single trustworthy friend.

Which means I’ll just have to make sure they don’t find out, won’t I?