Lila’s POV
As I followed the others upstairs, my stomach twisted. There was something about magic—about the ritual of it—that made me uneasy. Maybe it was what happened in Mauros, or maybe it was the knowledge that power like that always came with a price. But I had to understand what was happening around me. Around us.
Moira cleared a spot in the common room, moving aside cushions and small furniture with the same precision she used when slicing apples or rearranging books—quietly capable, slightly terrifying. She lit candles in soft clusters: gold, deep blue, maroon. Oscar shut the blinds with a flourish, cutting us off from the world outside.
Henry was already flipping through the thick old book I’d seen him with yesterday. Finding his page, he knelt and began drawing symbols across
