Page 74 of Magic in My Bones

If Dorian thought it was too soon to tell me how he felt, maybe he was right. But that didn’t stop me from hoping I’d get to hear those words from him again, this time when he was ready to say them directly to me.

For now, though, we had a ritual to stop.

25

The Wisdom of Friends

Dorian

The next morning, Iwent for a stroll through the cobblestone streets of Ebonshire. The air was crisp with the chill of fall, a refreshing change from the musty tomes and arcane incense that permeated my office at Blackstone Academy. Fallen leaves skittered across the sidewalk and smoke rose from chimneys as fireplaces inside blazed.

The leaves were deep burgundy and rust, collecting in drifts against iron fences where spiderwebs glittered with morning dew. Ancient oak trees lined the street, their branches forming a natural archway overhead.

Unlike the austere stone buildings of the academy, this part of town embraced a wilder magic. Garden gates wore wreaths of dried herbs and protective sigils, while black cats dozed on windowsills next to glowing crystals and bottles filled with mysterious tinctures.

I pulled my coat closer and turned down the walkway of a charming little two-bedroom cottage near the center of town. Well-trimmed bushes grew along the edges of the property,while colored stepping stones marked the path to the front door. A wooden sign swung gently in the breeze, proclaiming “Rowan Greyfable: Life & Relationship Coach—Discover Your Inner Magic!”

With a fond smile, I rapped my knuckles against the forest green door. A moment later, it swung open to reveal Cassian's imposing frame. The faun's impressive horns nearly grazed the doorframe, and his brown eyes scanned me from head to toe with his usual no-nonsense attitude. His workshop apron was still tied around his waist, dusted with wood shavings that caught the light like fallen stars, and his calloused hands spoke of both strength and careful craftsmanship.

“Good morning, Profess—” Cassian began, only to be unceremoniously shoved aside by a blur of ash blond curls and excited energy.

“Dorian!” Rowan exclaimed, throwing their arms around me in an exuberant hug. I chuckled, patting their back as I tried not to stumble under the force of their enthusiasm. Rowan's own spiraling horns just missed poking me in the eye, a hazard I'd grown accustomed to whenever Rowan hugged me, which was nearly every time I saw them.

“Let him breathe, Ro,” Cassian grumbled, though I caught the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Rowan pulled back, their green eyes sparkling with mirth. “Oh, hush, you big grump. It's not every day our favorite necromancy professor graces us with his presence.”

I couldn't help but grin. “I'm fairly certain I'm the only necromancy professor you know, Rowan.”

“Exactly! Which makes you our favorite by default,” they quipped, ushering me inside with a flourish.

The cottage embraced us like a warm hug. The air smelled of cinnamon and woodsmoke, mingling with the earthy scent of Cassian's latest carpentry project. Even the magic felt cozyhere, protection wards humming like a lullaby while enchanted teacups arranged themselves by season. Plush throw pillows adorned a well-worn leather couch, and crystals of various sizes and colors dotted every available surface.

A delicate chirping sound drew my attention upward, where Eko lay sprawled across one of the ceiling beams, her nine tails dangling lazily over the edge. The fennec fox familiar's ears perked up at the sight of me, and she vanished in a shimmer of golden light, only to reappear in Rowan's arms. “Yes, yes, you dramatic thing,” Rowan cooed, scratching behind her oversized ears. “You saw him just last month.” Eko's response was to flick her tails in a way that somehow managed to convey both agreement and dismissal of the timeframe as irrelevant.

“Tea?” Rowan offered, already bustling towards the kitchen. Eko trotted after them, her tails swishing with purpose.

“Actually,” I said, my voice tight enough to make both Rowan and Cassian pause, “I need to discuss something urgent first.” I remained standing, my fingers drumming against my coat buttons. “There's been some unusual spirit activity at the academy. Formerly benign spirits have become aggressive, and one of them attacked my former student, Ren Wickens.”

Cassian straightened, his easy posture shifting to alert attention. “How bad?”

“The spirit marked him as a chosen sacrifice for a dark necromantic ritual,” I said grimly. “We believe Alistair Grimshaw intends to carry it out in a cave on the grounds of the old academy.”

Eko's ears flattened against her head, her tails bristling as she sensed the gravity of the situation. She leaped to the back of Cassian's chair, all nine tails fanned out in a protective display.

“Dagon?” Rowan asked quietly, their hands stilling on the kettle.

I nodded. “We believe Alistair intends to bind his soul to the elder god. If we can locate the specific cave and find a way to disrupt the ritual, perhaps cleanse the space...”

“We can stop him,” Cassian finished, exchanging a look with Rowan. “But you'll need backup.”

“That's why I'm here,” I admitted. “Your knowledge of the old grounds, Cassian, and Rowan's expertise in cleansing spaces... I can't do this alone. Not with Ren's life at stake.”

Something in my voice must have caught Rowan's attention, because their expression softened with understanding. “Of course we'll help,” they said, resuming their tea preparation with renewed purpose. “But first, sit. You're wound tighter than Eko's tail springs, and we need to talk this through properly.”

Rowan bustled back into the room, a tray of steaming mugs balanced precariously in their hands. Eko trotted behind them, each of her nine tails holding a different crystal or bundle of herbs with surprising dexterity. The familiar had clearly appointed herself Rowan's assistant, though from the way she kept rearranging the items with her tails, she seemed to have her own opinions about proper magical organization.

I accepted a mug of tea from Rowan gratefully, inhaling the soothing scent of chamomile.

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