Thornhill Academy (By Sheridan Hartin) novel Chapter 118

By the time we make it out of Divination, my head is pounding. Whatever incense Professor Morrin burns in that room should be classed as a mild hallucinogen. Tessa is still talking about how “vision dust opens

the third eye,” and I’m quietly praying it’ll close again before lunch. Arcane Theory is next. Thankfully,

Kael’s in this one. Professor Lynden is in a mood. I’m not sure what kind, exactly, but it’s the dangerous, tight-jawed kind that makes you think twice about breathing too loud. The air itself feels like it’s holding

its breath with him.

I slip into a seat beside Kael. He grins, tapping his pen against my notebook in greeting. “Ready to get

yelled at?”

“Always,” I mutter.

Lynden’s chalk floats through the air, neat lines appearing on the board faster than anyone can copy. The

sound of it sets my teeth on edge.

“Magic,” he announces, voice clipped, “is obedience made visible. It obeys the law. It obeys structure. It

does not obey chaos.”

He says the last part as a personal insult, his eyes flicking in our direction. Kael leans back, his chair creaking. “Guess that’s why it doesn’t like me much,” he whispers.

A few people laugh but Lynden’s hand twitches, and Kael’s notebook bursts into harmless flame.

“Control,” Lynden says evenly, “is what separates a magician from a monster.”

The word monster hits me harder than it should. I tug my sleeve lower, just in case the faint shimmer under my skin decides now is a good time to make an appearance. I feel Rynor’s shadows shift under the table-a cool brush against my ankle, a quiet pulse. Lynden keeps talking, pacing between the desks. “When magic misbehaves, it’s not the spell that’s to blame, it’s the caster. Emotion is the first crack in the

dam.”

I wonder what he’d say if he knew half my magic comes from other people. If he knew I don’t have a dam at all, just a flood barely held back by fear and habit.

The lesson drags on, and Kael doodles tiny dragons in the margins of my notes, which helps. I try not to laugh, but when Lynden snaps, “Something funny, Miss Rivers?” my voice squeaks on instinct.

“No, sir,” I say quickly, cheeks burning.

1/4

10:39 Wed, Dec 31

Obedience Made Visible.

He stares for a beat too long, then goes back to his chalk. The sound of it scraping the board makes my

head pound.

When class finally ends, Kael grabs my bag before I can “I think he likes you,” he says with a grin.

“Yeah, in the same way lightning likes tall trees.”

He laughs, slinging the strap over his shoulder. “Next up-Magical History?”

I groan. “With Vane.”

“Perfect. I can nap with my eyes open.”

Professor Vane always smells faintly of dust and dried ink, as if he were born inside a library and never left. His classroom is lined with old portraits, grim-faced witches and warlocks, each holding a different version of the Council’s mark. Their eyes seem to follow you as you take your seat. Cage is already here. Of course he is. Sitting in the back row with that same smug grin that makes me want to hex his eyebrows off.

Tessa slides in beside me, whispering, “He’s staring at you again.”

“I know,” I mutter. “I can feel my IQ dropping.”

She snorts, too loudly, and Kael’s grin widens. Professor Vane starts his lecture with his usual monotone: “The Council was formed after the Second War to maintain order, to ensure that all magic-” Kael groans quietly, earning a glare from Vane. “-remains documented, monitored, and regulated. Unregistered power is a crime, punishable by immediate conscription to the Wall.”

The room goes still, or maybe that’s just me, because I feel it like a punch to the gut.

“Many of you were born under registered houses,” Vane continues. “Some of you… were not. Consider yourselves lucky that Thornhill offers rehabilitation.”

Rehabilitation. Like we’re broken toys waiting to be fixed. I can’t help myself. I look over my shoulder, and Cage is already staring right at me. Our eyes meet, and know from the look on his face that he’s thinking the same thing I am: some of us don’t survive rehabilitation. My heart pounds. The concealment flutters and I press my hands flat against the desk until Rynor’s shadow wraps tight around my wrists, sealing my sigils again within the shadows. Professor Vane keeps talking about Council reform, about bloodline registries and magical ethics, but the words start to blu The only thing I can hear is the soft, deliberate scrape of Cage’s chair as he leans back, no doubt still watching me.

When we get to potions & alchemy, Professor Irwyn looks like she’s been awake for three days straight, her

2/4

10:39 Wed, Dec 31 ✔

Obedience Made Visible.

hair wild, sleeves rolled to her elbows, eyes bright with affeine and chaos.

79%

“Alchemy,” she says, her voice a rasp, “is about balance Life and death, order and chaos, destruction and creation. It’s the only discipline that demands a little bit of both.” She gestures to the shelves behind her, each bottle labelled with neat handwriting. “Pick your ingredients wisely. What you mix reflects who you

are.” That doesn’t sound ominous at all.

I grab the basics-moonwater, phoenix ash, powdered amethyst-and get to work. Kael’s beside me, whistling softly while his mixture bubbles neon green.

“Looks like slime,” I say.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify