With a new trinket, Mary started to live a normal academic life - which differed little from the previous one, except that she wasn't getting yanked off the street into hiding spaces when other people walked around. And it was a success, only - not really what Mary wanted. She still hadn't heard from her previous team, and could only hope they were fighting the paperwork as bravely as they fought during the battle.

Her new party, though... Mary was really conflicted about it. The heroine kept reminding herself that Mortimer promised that she only needed to stay with them for a month, half of which was already gone, and she'd be completely free. No strings attached. Somehow, she doubted that would truly be the case - still... he didn't really do all that much to deserve the distrust. Other than looking Creepy, that is. And Paolo, well... he was strange. Despite little training, he almost kept up with Mort. Probably his regeneration didn't hurt his progress...

Mary, on the other hand, felt almost ok. Almost. She didn't talk about her condition, which was getting both better and worse at the same time. Some of her energy returned, and she could fail on the Mixered Martial Art's arena with around half all of her former grace. Unfortunately, it didn't help much with Mary's hopes for the future - her time horizon was still looking rather short to her liking. Sometime last week, she texted Bromman whether she could take off the necklace without damaging the illusion enchantment. Young heroine barely remembered one of the numbers he gave her, and her phone had its memory reset, so she couldn't just check the others. Besides, surely knowing one number would be enough, wouldn't it? Anyway - Bromman told her that it should work and that it'd be a nice thing to remember should she ever need medical attention. Apparently, those kinds of illusions tended to interfere with the medicians' ability to examine the patient. So, right now, it was only her own fear of seeing what was becoming of her that she didn't dare check it.

But neither the illusions nor pretending to ignore what was happening helped with getting her powers to work as intended.

“Focus,” Mortimer said for two thousand and twenty-seventh time. “Tell me again how you used your power so far.”

“But I've already told you like-”

“Mary. There may have been some clue we missed. Maybe try another wording again. It is crucial that we get this to work.”

“But why? I've been doing ok with fireballs alone so far, and anyway, they seem to manifest as they see fit when they're really needed.”

Mortimer sighed. “Just humour me.”

Mary was really tired of this. It was the third meeting at the training hall they requisitioned for the power training, and judging by the white, smooth stones covered with just a few scratches, it was prepared to handle a lot more than a theoretical talk. Paolo was watching them from a safe distance, lying on a hammock strung across two pillars of blood. Even the ropes itself looked bloody, and Mary had no idea how the boy managed to pull off something like this.

Unfortunately, she didn't have the mood for appreciating his craftsmanship.

“So, the first time I was in Renate's office, and she was mean to me, and the shadows went more... dark and shadowy, I guess? I don't know how what happened, but they have broken some kind of a barrier thingy. And the second time, I barely noticed it, really. I was busy casting a spell, and things just happened... ”

“I've seen what happened at the battle. But how did you feel? Did you think something specific, imagined something?”

“Of course I did feel something! My friends were dying, and I was in the middle of a battle!”

Mortimer took a slow breath. “Look, you were put on trial for the use of level eight power.” As if she could forget... “But I think they made a mistake. What you're saying doesn't sound like an eight level. Shadow constructs operating independently from their master? Breaking through the academy protection barrier without training? Heck, even keeping you up and running after what you've done with that Lifeleak spell? Yeah, no.”

He shook his head. Even Paolo stopped swinging in his creepy hammock. “The only reason they settled on the eighth level was that anything higher would put you past your current class. And since shadow powers are classified as inherently dark...”

“Something must have gone wrong with your prophecy. I don't know what or why, I don't really need to know. But if you slipped through their net, and if you really have the power I think you have, you must not waste it.”

“So let me ask again. What did you feel, do, think, or whatever it may have been that triggered your power the last time? Can you repeat it somehow, this time on purpose?”

He looked at Mary expectantly. And she went back to the memories she'd rather forget, to the battle. She saw her friends lying before her, or what was left of them. She saw the blood on her hands and on the jagged sword. Her heart started to slow down...

“I can't do this. I don't know.”

Mortimer looked her in the eyes through closed eyelids. Then sighed.

“Okay then. We'll have to do it the hard way.”

“The what way...?”

Paolo jumped from his hammock, resorbing the blood back into his body. Mary would never get used to it.

“The fun way it is,” he said with a very not reassuring grin.