The words wouldn’t come. It was as if he were standing on the edge of a cliff, and everything in his body was willing him to throw himself over, but his mind wouldn’t let him. If he repeated what Atlas had said, Master Rudeos would hate him. They’d all hate him.
And for what? Even if he had been Constantine Madden once, it wasn’t like he remembered any of it. He was still Callumum, wasn’t he? Still the same person. He hadn’t become evil. He didn’t wish harm to the Magic Academy. And what was a soul, anyway? It didn’t tell you what to do. He could make his own decisions.
“Yeah, there was a lab with a lot of bubbling stuff and elementals in the niches that lit the whole place. But no one was there.” Callum swallowed, steeling himself to the lie. His heart sped. “The room was empty.”
“Is t
