It’s a good evening, in the end. Just Edward and I, telling each other stories of our pasts. For once we’re relatively good at avoiding the more sensitive parts of that: no state secrets are spilled and no Malaina episodes are had.

That’s how term ends.

I get up early the next morning, long before any of my dorm-mates except for Robin stir. We have a whispered conversation: I was lucky, it seems, falling asleep at about eleven after noon and not waking when the others got back. She slept at about the same time but was woken at some unholy hour by their return. Hannah and Lucy were apparently somewhat drunk, and she doesn’t expect to see them awake before lunchtime.

Robin and I are both sacrificing sleep, though, because it’s the last time we’ll see Elsie this year. She’s catching a coach that leaves from the West Gate at nine after midnight, and the West Gate is quite a walk from the Academy. As such, we’ve arranged to have breakfast together at seven.

Which means not having breakfast with Edward, breaking the routine we’ve built together. It would be so much easier if he could just join us, but he believes Elsie doesn’t like him and I can’t correct that impression. I force myself not to look at him paging through the morning papers, alone in his usual seat. After today there’ll still be another week of shared breakfasts.

Elizabeth does join us, though. She slept badly as well, so we spend half our meal complaining about the lack of sleep. Elsie is quiet, focused on eating. I wonder if she’s just distracted by packing and sad to be leaving, or if it’s her powers. That’s not something I can ask in public, though.

Part of me wishes the others weren’t here so we could have one last conversation about oracular business. But they’re our friends too, even if they don’t know Elsie’s secret. It would be unfair to shut them out.

Elsie disappears to finish packing after we’ve finished eating. We can’t help her: the Academy has strict rules about not entering dormitories that aren’t your own, and there are rumours that they’re enforced by the ward network. Edward told me the loophole in that rule, though: those students who have their own private rooms may have whatever visitors they like.

I’ve never been in his room. He doesn’t spend time there, except to sleep. I haven’t spread knowledge of the loophole around, either: I don’t want Elizabeth to be constantly stuck playing hostess to the rest of us, especially since she notably hasn’t volunteered the information.

So Elizabeth, Robin and I hover awkwardly in the corridor outside. Elizabeth has volunteered to help Elsie carry her trunk to the West Gate. It’s probably unnecessary given that magic makes that task significantly easier, but it makes them both feel better.

Elizabeth is pacing; she’s worried about being late. It’s a forty-five minute walk, but even with her help the trunk will slow them down somewhat. And Elsie still needs to complete the paperwork confirming that she’s leaving the Academy for the holidays, which will be another few minutes.

It’s maybe five minutes before Elsie emerges, levitating her trunk by her side. “Right,” she says. “I’m ready.”

I’ve never been the best with goodbyes. “Well, enjoy Holy Days,” I say. “And I’ll see you next year, I suppose?”

“See you next year,” Robin agrees. “Write to me.”

“And to me,” I say, and then realise that I won’t be staying at what was once my home, and that I still don’t even know my new address. My dad just said he’d meet me at the gates of Crelt. “Er. Care of Roberts and Bryant, lawyers. Gold Street, Crelt. After next week when I leave the Academy. I’ll give you a proper address later.”

Once I actually know what it is, I carefully avoid mentioning.

“Sounds good. Expect my first letter within a few days, then. And hope you both enjoy Holy Days as well!”

Elizabeth grabs the straps of the trunk. Elsie’s levitation means she’s not taking its full weight, but it still makes Elsie’s job a lot easier. “Let’s go,” she says.

And the two of them leave Robin and I behind.

I leave Robin for Edward after that. He fills me in on the news: the election is in four days’ time, and the papers are completely taken over by speculation about it and summary of the candidates. Apparently the Academy is going to turn into a polling station for the day, which Edward is not too happy about.

“The security is going to be a mess,” he complains. “The Academy’s ward network is set up to keep out all intruders, which makes it extremely difficult to restrict their movement once we go and let them in. It’ll take half a dozen of the best magicians to keep things under control, and even then…”

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I’m only half-listening, though I should probably pay more attention. I need to learn how to keep secrets properly, don’t I?

“So,” I say when he’s finished. “What are we going to do with the next week?”

“You need to rest, to begin with.”

“And you don’t?”

He shrugs, as if to say that he hasn’t found the tests or anything he’s done this term even remotely tiring. “I do have an idea for what to do next week,” he says. “But I need to confirm a few things first. And we’ll have the weekend free, regardless.”

Very mysterious of him. I know better than to waste my time on wondering by now, at least.

I’m not in the mood for resting, really. I can’t shake the sense that there are things I should be doing, there's work I need to tackle. I’m sure Edward could give me some exercises in magic that would help me get ahead on next term’s lessons, or another lesson in privacy wards. But he refuses when I ask, much to my surprise. What is he up to?

I ask a few times, but he’s not giving anything away. If it doesn’t work out, it’s apparently better if I don’t know that it could have. So I check in with Robin again. She’s spending her week studying advanced material – too advanced for me to understand, she says when I offer to join her.

“What sort of material?” I ask anyway.

“Mostly enchantments, since that’s what I’m planning to specialise in. But I’ve heard the teacher for Further Conditional Enchantments next year is… extremely selective. She only takes students who can impress her in some way – “

“Robin, you’re – well, you’re first or second in every casting class. And you’d be first without contest if it was a normal class that didn’t have Edward in it.”

“That’s the problem, isn’t it?” she says. “Edward is better than me. He’d easily beat me if he cared about classes enough. I’m good, but I’m not special in the way he is. What hope do I have to stand out when he does it just by existing?”

I blink a few times. I’ve long since realised that comparing myself to Edward is an exercise in futility, but apparently Robin hasn’t. Then again, she is a lot closer to his level than I am. I’ve heard the two of them debating magical theory, and she didn't sound out of her depth for a second.

“Just because you have a Blackthorn in your class doesn’t make you any less talented.”

“I know that. But being talented isn’t good enough. I have to be the best there is if I want – “ She stops talking abruptly.

I wait curiously for her to go on, but after a few seconds it becomes clear that she’s not going to. If it were Edward, or even Elsie, I’d press her. But Robin is different; even though we’ve become friends, I still know surprisingly little about her. She’s cautious, guarded. I can understand that, and I can respect it. “Well,” I say instead. “If you ever want to feel good about yourself studying with someone who’s not as smart as you, you know where to find me.”

“I’m not smarter than you, Tallulah.”

I stare at her blankly.

“I’m a better magician than you, yes. But you know I’ve grown up with magic, lived and breathed it for years before I had a scrap of my own power. And… it’s all I am, you see? Without magic I’d be a waste of space. You wouldn’t.”

“That’s not...” I begin.

Robin sighs and throws up her hands. “See you around, Tallulah.” She stalks away, but there’s no real animosity there. I almost feel as if we’re closer than we’ve ever been.

I spend the rest of the morning in the library. I’m still not entirely comfortable with hyperspace, but it’s worth it for the books there. The history section is good, though, but it’s never been the library’s primary purpose. I must have got through a couple of dozen books over the term, and now half the works that seem interesting are ones I’ve already read. By the time we reach final exams I’ll have exhausted the entire collection.

I gather up four of those I have yet to read and leave hyperspace. Rosie is on duty today, and we talk for a while. I make the mistake of wishing her happy Holy Days, which means the conversation turns into her complaining about having to go to the Feast of Stars.

I can’t work out what’s more surreal: that I know multiple people going to the grandest party the Kingdom has to offer, or that they don’t want to go.

Elizabeth gets back from escorting Elsie sometime before lunch, and all four of us eat together. Edward is perfectly happy to join us this time; it’s only Elsie he’s been avoiding, then. I feel another stab of guilt, and then it occurs to me that he might be wondering why Elsie doesn’t want to spend time with him.

She was growing comfortable with him when we were all studying together, after all. It was only after she developed her powers that she started avoiding him. After the visit to the fortune-teller. After she saw Edward nearly tear apart the tent, saw me fighting to save him from a Malaina episode. After she realised just how dangerous he could be.

That’s a pretty good cover story, even if I’m worried for the effect it would have on Edward. He might even already assume it’s the case.

We talk about plans for the next week. Robin is open about her studies, even if she doesn’t go into as much depth on her motivation for it. She does talk more about exactly what she’s working on, though. It takes me a while to realise that she’s directing that specifically at Edward. That she wants him to offer to work with her.

He makes no such offer, instead just saying he plans to keep himself busy with unspecified training. I’m not sure whether that’s the truth or whether the mysterious thing he mentioned is something altogether different.

Elizabeth is house-hunting. She doesn’t have family to go back to for Holy Days, so she’s looking for a place of her own, and hasn’t had much time to search during term. Money isn’t a problem, since Edward follows through on his promise to give her a loan (zero interest, as well, despite her half-hearted protests).

Finding someone willing to rent a room or two for a few weeks is more difficult: most landlords are looking for longer-term tenants or lodgers, and Elizabeth wants somewhere more permanent than a hotel or inn, ideally a place she can guarantee returning to for the spring and summer breaks.

“What about that place your – “ I begin to suggest, and then break off hastily. That place your mother was staying, Edward, I was going to say. But I forgot for a second that the former Lady Blackthorn’s brief visit to the City and meeting with her son is very much a secret.

“What’s that, Tallulah?” Elizabeth asks.

“Oh, nothing,” I say airily. “Nothing that would work, anyway.”

They’re sceptical, but I sit back and let the conversation wash over me. I’m determined to enjoy my last week with my friends rather than having it ruined by the secrets I have to keep.