His eyes went wide.
“W-what…” His head jerked, trying to follow something only he could see. He kicked harder in Mathias’s grasp. “Get it off! Get it off!”
Caleb’s illusion settled, a harmless shadow play, no sharper than a bad dream. Long, creeping shapes crawled across the boy’s vision, not touching him, only circling. A low, distant sound like growling—not real, only suggestion. The boy shrieked. Tears burst from his eyes. He twisted, clawing at the air.
Parents gasped. A teacher yelped. Some children pressed their faces into their mothers’ skirts. Others watched with round, unblinking eyes.
“Good,” Vincent said, his tone even. “Hold it. Do not break it until he learns.”
“Stop,” I said at the same time. My heart hammered. “Caleb, enough.”
Caleb faltered, torn between us. The shado
