Vane stared at the two boxes sitting on his desk. The crimson one from Valerica and the silver one from Isole remained perfectly still, but the air around them was vibrating with suppressed mana. Professor Vyla was at the front of the hall, her chalk scratching out complex equations for etheric conductivity, yet Vane could not focus on a single variable.
The silence between his two friends was a physical weight. Valerica did not look at him, her gaze fixed on the chalkboard with an intensity that suggested she was trying to burn the wood with her eyes. Isole was similarly rigid, her hands folded so tightly in her lap that her knuckles were the color of the snow outside.
Vane was about to reach for the boxes to put them away when the light above his desk distorted.
