After dealing with the complicated matter of exactly how large and exorbitant the box of chocolates I was sending to Magistus should be, I got to the rather less important matter of investigating my friend’s role in the possible attempted-murderer-framing plot. I needed to be sure that both Kylie and Max would be out of the room for a long period of time before I could investigate the letters.

I got my chance a few days later. Kylie had switched from English class to Ido class (something I should do too, if I was staying on), which was held at the same time as Max’s Latin class. I watched both of them leave, tracked them on the school map until they were physically in their classrooms, and got to work.

I would have to be very careful. Max had an excellent memory; he’d notice if I moved anything out of place. Trying not to disturb his bedclothes, I crawled into his space.

The area was neat, so far as teenagers’ bedrooms go. He certainly swept his part of the floor a lot more than I did mine. There were no discarded robes on the floor or books left face-down on the bed; even the wastepaper bin was empty.

The only sign of chaos was on the desk, which was strewn with notes and papers on at least three subjects that I recognised and presumably many more that I didn’t. The wall behind the desk was, of course, crowded with bits of school map.

The top drawer of the desk was closed, but the desk had no locks. I carefully inspected it for scraps of wedged paper, hairs stuck over the edge, or any other anti-tampering device. Nothing. Of course there was nothing; why would Max expect anyone to go through his stuff?

Wrapping my robe around my hand just in case, I inched the drawer open. There; a perfect stack of letters, all sitting in their envelopes. Octavia’s name was above the return address on the first one. Now, so long as I put them away in the same order, and the same position, there was no way for Max to know I’d been in here. I reached for the top one…

What was I doing?

Seriously. I’d snuck into my friend’s room to go through his private mail because… it wasn’t impossible that he was framing someone else for murder? Really? This was stupid. This whole thing was stupid.

Yes, technically, based on the information I had, Max could have framed Simon. Technically, based on the information I had, Kylie could be a master thief, or my mother could be a secret princess, or Magistus could be trying to steal my blood for weird experiments. Max was supposed to be my friend, and a fragile line of technical possibility wasn’t enough to justify me standing there, doing what I was doing. Friends are supposed to trust each other, right? How much did I trust him, if I’d let myself get this far on so little evidence? Wasn’t this sort of nonsense exactly what he’d roomed with us, instead of the Magistae, to avoid?

I was a terrible friend. I needed to up my game if I was going to stick around.

Let’s say I read the letters. Let’s say I just decided to read the private correspondence between Max and his family to indulge my own private paranoid conspiracy. Whether Max was innocent or guilty, there wasn’t going to be any line like ‘As for your enquiry about somebody who could make a fake Guardian Ring…’ because Max, and presumably his grandmother, were far too smart to commit something like that to writing. Me reading those letters would just be me looking for codes that I didn’t have nearly enough information to find. Which would mean I’d by analysing a lot of my friend’s private information, going over it in my head, trying to find connections to random things he said, prying further… based on no new information. There was nothing to gain here. I was just being a dick.

I closed the drawer and crawled back out. How would a reasonable person who wasn’t turning his school experience into a twisted spy drama proceed?

By talking to his friend, probably.

Dammit. I was bad at that sort of thing. Friendship sucks.

About thirty minutes later, Max burst in, pointed one finger at me dramatically, and announced, “Meditation.”

This was not how I’d expected our conversation to begin. “Um. What?”

“That’s how I’m going to help you learn to cast your spell. Meditation. I’ve been reading up on it, and assuming the effects aren’t exaggerated too much in the literature, it could be what we need here. You have all the pieces to cast; you’ve done it twice. What we need is discipline, focus, understanding, mental and physical awareness. So, we should take up meditation.”

“Uh, right now?”

“No, not right now. We’ll set a daily time for it. I can’t wait to see if this helps.”

“Are you experimenting on m – wait, never mind, I should have assumed that from the getgo. Uh, do you have some free time right now?”

“Sure, we can do it now if you want.”

“No, I want to talk about something else. Uh. If, um… if you thought my curse was, you know, interfering with other spells, you would tell me, right?”

“This again? Didn’t we debunk this weeks ago? Did something else happen I should know about?”

“No. But, hypothetically, if you thought my curse was dangerous, you would tell me. Wouldn’t you?”

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

“Yes, of course. Kayden, what happened?”

“Nothing. I just… I owe you an apology.”

“Okay, what did you break?”

“Nothing!”

“Then what under the seven points of power is going on?”

So I told him. From us rooming together, to my curse endangering others, to the neat, perfect solution that would put all the blame on Simon and get rid of him in one fell swoop. Max stared silently at me the whole time, his expression wooden.

When I finished, he was quiet for a long time.

Then he said, “Is that really what you think of me?”

“No! I mean, it shouldn’t have been. You’ve never done anything to deserve that kind of suspicion.”

“Magistus get into your head?”

“No! Well, not on purpose. I assume, from how little he trusts you, that he probably thinks something similar. But he didn’t try to convince me, or anything.”

“Because you have a ‘no politics’ rule. Well, given what you’ve seen in legacy mages so far, I suppose you are justified in your suspicions – ”

“No, I’m not. Simon’s a dick and the Magistae like playing their little games or whatever, but you’ve only ever been up front with me. I’m not going to go through life assuming the worst out of anyone who could possibly be doing anything suspicious, because that’s everyone in the world. I should’ve trusted you. Are you mad?”

“Yes, but I’ll get over it in a day or two.” He gave a little smile. “Honestly, I should be offended that you think I’m that much of an idiot. What you’ve outlined here is possibly the worst frame job ever proposed.”

“Hey! It has a couple of holes, but – ”

“A couple of holes? You could drop an entire second murder victim into one of those ‘holes’ and nobody would ever find them. Kayden, the Guardian Ring is incredibly valuable. I’m still trying to come to grips with the idea that Simon and the Fiore would sacrifice it, but for somebody outside the family to steal it and deliberately break it? Forget the whole ‘framing the Fiore and his heir’ thing for a second; that alone would doom me and bankrupt my entire family if it were ever discovered. That’s a clear-cut Law of Intent violation, which triples the penalties. On top of the theft and destruction of the ring, add framing those two, the destruction of Miratova’s lab, the danger I would have put two students and a very prominent scientist in… that’s all a massive risk for very little reward.”

“Well, only if you get caught.”

“I mean this in the nicest possible way, but according to your theory you, an initiate with very little knowledge of the relevant laws and no training in criminal investigation, ‘caught’ me. Do you really think the authorities wouldn’t? Anyway, even if I was dumb enough to take a risk like that, it wouldn’t explain what I intended to do the next time your curse messed up somebody’s spell. Or why nobody’s spells have been misbehaving lately.”

“Yeah, I did wonder about that. I guess I figured you found some way to stop that from happening. But I know you would’ve told me, if that was the case.”

Max stared at me. “Kayden, I would have told everyone. If my roommate’s curse went haywire and I found a way to stop it? I certainly wouldn’t use that as part of a plot to pretend it never happened and frame some classmate I didn’t like! I’d use it to kickstart my reputation as a magical researcher!”

“What if I wanted to keep it secret?”

“You didn’t. I had to convince you not to run straight to Instruktanto Cooper right when you got back from Duniyasar. Believe me, if I’d made a discovery like that, the last thing I’d do is keep the whole thing a secret and frame somebody to cover it up.”

“Well,” I mumbled, “when you put it like that.”

“Have you ever considered that you might be a bit paranoid?”

“Only since I came here. I used to be normal.”

“You? Normal?”

“I was, and you can’t prove otherwise.”

At that point, Kylie walked in.

“How was Ido class?” I asked.

“Boring. I ran into Magistus getting lunch He wants you to have this.” She handed me a fat silver envelope with the Cottingly sigil embossed on it in gold. Showoff.

I tore it open and pulled out a four page letter. Who writes a four page letter?

Dearest Kayden,

As I lie upon my lonely bed, thinking of how your eyelashes so delicately capture the sunlight –

I skipped ahead a bit.

– but who is to say what dreams are trapped in those eyes? What mysterious thoughts, guarded by such beautiful –

I skipped to page two.

– which is how I know that under the sweet cadence of your laugh, where I feel the silence of deeper feelings waiting to be voiced –

Page three, then.

– your silk-soft hair, raining down –

Really?!

– thus I humbly beg that you grant me a little more time in your radiant presence, and indulge me in another date this coming Friday, in the forest that already holds my most treasured memories with you.

Your servant,

Magistus.

“Wow,” I said. “What a dick.”

Max glanced at the letter. “It’s pretty over the top,” he said, “but it’s not mean. Unless it’s a code I don’t understand?”

“It’s a sneaky play, is what it is.” I tossed the letter onto my bed to free my hands for dramatic gestures. “He knew he couldn’t beat me in gifts. He couldn’t top my incredibly thoughtful and romantic selection of chocolates. He must have been intimidated by its size, its quality, its selection of decorative ribbons.”

“Selection of ribbons?” Kylie asked.

“I couldn’t decide on a single colour or bow design. Anyway. Like a coward, he’s backed away from that challenge and chosen instead to attack using a skill he knows I’m weak in!”

“Basic literacy?” Kylie asked.

“Yes! Basic literacy!” I rubbed my hands together. “But he has no idea the dragon he’s awakened. Max, help me write an extremely romantic letter.”

“Um, no. I’m not going to do that.”

“Come on! Not even for a friend?”

“Me getting involved in your relationship in any possible way is a terrible idea. Magistus is suspicious of me, remember? He thinks I’m manipulating you. He called me Nonus, and outright called you my witch, that night you hit Simon.”

“I’d almost forgotten that night. Hitting Simon was great.”

“While it’s difficult for me to disagree on how great hitting Simon must have been, the fact remains that me getting involved in your relationship with Magistus in any way whatsoever, positive or negative, isn’t going to help. You’ll have to find a different scribe.”

“Kylie?”

“I think we both know that isn’t happening,” she said. “If he’s trying to use skills you’re bad at, why let him control the… whatever the hell this is? Why not use skills you’re good at? You can find a new ridiculous scenario to nearly get the both of you killed together.”

“Kylie, you’re a genius!”

“What? No, don’t actually – ”

“I’m not going to nearly get anyone killed. But changing tactics is a good idea. Last time, in the forest, he had the home field advantage, but now… excuse me, I need to try to get in contact with some friends! Oh, he is going to rue the day he ever complimented my delicate eyelashes!”

As I bolted out the door, I heard Kylie ask, “Is it just me, or is he getting weirder?”