I Learned Magic for All the Wrong Reasons

”You were going to keep me talking?” Dante pointed at the message under Anika’s hand. ”That thing was in my house.”

Anika moved her hand and laid the tablet flat. ”I just learned that. I should have shown you. The appointment’s real, but we didn’t send the ad or authorize that visit.”

Dante looked through the hall at students carrying drinks between classes. Blackwell was real, and so was his appointment. The job ad and the woman who had entered his home were the parts the school had not approved. He still didn’t know who had sent them, but at least he knew what he was trying to find out.

Anika handed him a cereal bar and showed him the next message. ”Miss Vale handles these magic checks for new students. She’s sending Rhea, a second-year medical student, to walk you to her office. You can talk to Vale, or I can get you outside right now.”

Beyond her, a student tried to steal chips from a vending machine with a floating hand. A yellow grid stopped the fingers at the glass, and the student sighed and took out his debit card. Dante found himself smiling despite everything, then opened the cereal bar. ”I want to know what came out of my fingers, and whether it could happen again when my mom’s near me.”

”You can ask Miss Vale about that without agreeing to another assessment,” Anika said. She turned the tablet toward him, leaving the message open while he ate. ”She’s expecting you, but I’ll tell Rhea you want an explanation first.”

”Does everyone get the thing in their bedroom, or was I particularly good at the interview?”

”No, Dante. I help new students find classrooms and replace lost keys. I haven’t had anyone show me a recording like yours.”

He finished chewing before asking whether Rhea had been told about the box. Anika added it to her message where he could see, then sent it. Having someone believe him helped, although he would have preferred her to recognize the problem and know exactly how to fix it.

While they waited, Dante checked that his phone still showed Mom’s number and the recording from home. Anika noticed him checking and kept her hands away from it.

”I’ll send Rhea the messages you’ve seen,” she said. ”You can read anything else that comes back before we act on it.”

”You could have started there.” Dante folded the wrapper until the sticky edge stayed shut. He wanted her to argue so he could keep being angry, but she agreed with him instead, which left him holding a cereal bar wrapper and waiting for Rhea.

Rhea arrived with a gym bag and dark hair tied back, her fitted black shirt showing that somebody here actually used the gym. A long red tail caught the door before it hit a student carrying coffee, then released it without interrupting her introduction.

”I’m Rhea, and I’ll take you across to Admissions,” she said, showing Anika the message on her phone before turning to Dante. ”I study medicine here. Today I’m mostly making sure you reach the right door.”

Dante pocketed the receipts and wrapper, reclaimed his invitation, and left the empty bottle by the maps. He stood and followed Rhea through the courtyard doors. She pointed out Admissions across the paving and explained that Miss Vale’s assessment rooms were upstairs. Glass walkways joined the buildings, and charging sockets lined the benches; at the cafe, a kettle poured itself.

The kettle hovered over a paper cup until the barista tapped its handle, then settled on its base. ”That has a spell built into it,” Rhea explained when Dante slowed down. ”Enchanted things can keep doing a job without someone casting over them every time.”

At an outdoor table, a woman drew a small shape in the air and said words Dante could not follow. Spilled coffee rose from her notebook into a floating ball, then dropped into an empty cup. Rhea explained that people drew the shape to form a spell and spoke Korean words to make it work. Dante thought of the box catch moving when he had only pictured it, but she was already pointing out the Admissions entrance.

Rhea stopped to adjust her gym bag. Dante noticed where her tail passed through her jeans and, against all hope of appearing normal, started thinking about the underwear.

”There’s a zip, and no, the bookstore doesn’t sell an illustrated guide.” Rhea moved her bag while Dante tried looking somewhere a gentleman might. ”You could try looking at my face.”

”I was wondering how you sit down, which felt like a practical question until I said it.” Dante briefly missed the invisible threat, which at least could not watch him fail.