Chapter 85: Lines Drawn

Astrid

The academy didn’t feel like the same place it had that morning. Students clustered in hallways, sat on staircases whispering loud enough for everyone nearby to hear. The Integration Challenge had lasted barely a day before Aldrich suspended it entirely.

Ivy had been waiting for answers since I got back. "Are you going to tell me what happened?"

"I already told you."

She stopped walking. I took two more steps before realizing she wasn’t beside me anymore.

"No," she said, hands on her hips. "You told me someone changed a symbol."

"I didn’t know the whole forest was going to turn against us."

"The forest didn’t turn against you. Someone moved your checkpoint."

I winced.

"And then someone got lost."

"When you say it like that—"

"There’s no other way to say it."

I laughed despite myself, though it faded fast. I told her everything, the missing checkpoint, the transferred student, the other teams, Aldrich, Estelle. She listened without interrupting, and by the time I finished, her face had gone properly worried.

"Astrid..."

"I know."

"Do you?"

I looked away. A group of younger students hurried past, arguing loudly about whether the challenge was cursed. I lowered my voice. "I don’t know who did anything."

"But you think it’s Estelle."

I hesitated. That was the problem. I did, and I hated it. "I think something about her doesn’t feel right."

Ivy looked past me. Estelle stood further down the hallway, laughing with someone, perfectly normal.

"That doesn’t mean she did it," Ivy said.

"I know."

Knowing didn’t make the unease go away.

Josh caught up with us a few minutes later, uniform still muddy, glancing around like he expected trouble. He got it soon enough. A cluster of Moonshade students near the windows raised their voices deliberately.

"We were fine before they got here."

"First they take our apartments. Now the academy has to stop everything because of them."

Josh’s shoulders stiffened. Ivy looked uncomfortable.

"Josh," I said quietly.

He kept walking, until another voice added, "Maybe they brought their problems with them."

He stopped and turned. "What exactly is that supposed to mean?"

Someone shrugged. "If the shoe fits."

He stepped forward. I grabbed his arm, and he looked at my hand, then at me, and stayed put, though the tension didn’t leave his shoulders.

"Do you have proof?" a calm voice asked.

Everyone turned. Eliza stood a few steps away, having approached without any of us noticing.

"What?" the student said.

"You said they brought their problems here." A pause. "Do you have proof?"

"Everyone knows—"

"No," Eliza cut in, calm as ever. "Everyone is talking. Those are different things."

The student’s face reddened, and someone tugged their sleeve, pulling them away.

"Remind me never to argue with you," Josh told her.

"You’d lose," Eliza said, walking past.

"I think I like her," Josh said to me.

I watched Eliza continue down the hall, a small smile forming.

"Yeah," I said. I thought I might too.

Later, we were called together, and this time nobody complained about being interrupted. Everyone wanted answers. I noticed the Moonshade and transferred students had naturally clustered apart, nobody instructing them to, it had simply happened.

Aldrich confirmed the suspension and the ongoing investigation. Murmurs spread, and he raised a hand to settle the room before adding, "The transferred students are not to be blamed for this incident."

Several students exchanged glances.

"Any student found harassing, threatening, or targeting another student over the challenge will be punished."

That didn’t sit well with everyone, but he continued, and one line landed heavier than the rest.

"The person responsible is familiar with Moonshade."

Not could be. Not might be. I looked toward Criston and caught his expression shift slightly.

He’d heard it too.

That evening, back at the apartment, Xander opened the door before I could knock. "You look like someone stole your favorite food."

"Maybe someone did."

Reed sat at the table with a book open. The moment I saw them both, something in me loosened, the bond settling warm beneath my skin.

Home, the thought arrived uninvited.

"What’s wrong?" Xander asked.

"Nothing."

"Why does nobody believe me when I say that?" I sighed.

"Because you always look guilty before you lie," Xander said.

"I don’t lie."

Both of them looked at me.

"Often," I amended.

"Ask," Reed said.

"Ask what?"

"Whatever you’ve been thinking about since you walked in."

I hesitated, then finally said, "How well do you know Estelle?"

The room shifted slightly. Reed explained their families had known each other, that Estelle had been around long before their mother married the King, before any of this. Astrid pictured them younger, sharing memories she’d never have access to, and something quiet and lonely settled in her chest.

"Was she always like this?" I asked.

"Pretty?" Xander said.

"I meant friendly."

He laughed. Reed gave him a look before answering that she’d always been sociable, easy to like, sometimes clingy with people she cared about, but never—

He stopped.

"Never what?" I asked.

"Nothing."

That bothered me more than an actual answer would have.

I asked, quieter, "Do you trust her?"

Silence stretched. Reed didn’t answer right away, and that told me more than words could have.

"I have no reason not to," he finally said.

Not yes. I looked down.

"Astrid," Reed said, noticing.

"It’s nothing."

Xander studied me, then grinned. "You’re jealous."

"I am not."

"You are."

Reed pinched the bridge of his nose. "Xander."

I finally admitted, "You both have so many memories I wasn’t there for. Sometimes I feel like everyone knows something about you except me."

The room went quiet. Reed stood, crossing to me, lifting my chin gently.

"You’re not supposed to compete with our past," he said.

"I know."

"Do you?"

Xander leaned against the table. "Besides, you have plenty of time to annoy us for the rest of our lives."

I laughed, small and broken, and felt lighter than I had all day.

Later, walking back toward the dorms, I heard footsteps behind me.

Criston. "Do you ever appear normally?"

"You noticed me," he said.

"That isn’t the same thing."

He fell into step beside me. "Did you tell them?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because I don’t have proof."

He nodded. "Good."

"Good?"

"Accusing an illusionist of using illusions without proof is a good way to sound insane."

"You really know how to comfort people."

"I don’t try." Then, serious, "That doesn’t mean you should ignore your instincts."

I stopped. "You think she’s dangerous?"

He looked down the hallway. "I think you should find out why she knows."

My stomach tightened. That was exactly the question. How had she known?

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded paper. "There’s something else."

I took it. "What is this?"

"I compared the materials. Checked with other teams. Symbols, maps, instructions." He explained further, and I looked down at the list. My team. Josh. Eliza. Criston. Astrid.

"Only one team’s material was altered before the challenge started," he said.

"Ours."

He nodded, and the hallway suddenly felt colder. None of it had been random. Someone had known exactly who would be grouped together.

I looked at the list again. Four different people.

"Which one of us were they trying to target?" I asked.

He didn’t answer.

Because neither of us knew.

And somehow, that made it worse.