I tried to be discreet as I let my eyes wander around the headmaster’s office. It wasn’t anything like the towering, gilded offices from fantasy novels—no vaulted ceilings or ornate chandeliers. Instead, it felt functional, almost cozy. A massive wooden desk stood in front of three tall windows draped with deep green curtains. Bookshelves lined two of the walls, their spines worn and mismatched, a mix of leather-bound tomes and crumbling parchment volumes. Near the corner, a small sitting area was arranged with a low table and two armchairs. A tray of refreshments had already been set out there.

At first glance, I thought it was tea. The steam curling from the porcelain pot certainly looked like it. But when she poured, the liquid that slid into her cup wasn’t brown—it was a rich, shimmering dark blue, like ink that caught bits of starlight in its surface.

She noticed the way I hesitated, and a knowing smile touched her lips.

“It’s not tea, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

I didn’t ask how she knew what was on my mind. Instead, I asked flatly, “Then what is it?”

“Universe,” she said, her voice smooth, patient, like she’d explained this before. “That’s its name. All you have to do is think of what you want, and that’s how it will taste.”

She extended the cup toward me again, and this time I accepted. The porcelain was warm against my palms. Just before I brought it to my lips, a whisper drifted at my side.

“I wouldn’t drink that,” the ghost muttered darkly. “It’s probably poisoned.”

I ignored her. The headmaster had already sipped from her own cup, poured from the same pot. That was proof enough for me. I thought about orange juice—fresh, cold, the kind I craved after long runs. I tilted the cup, and as soon as the liquid hit my tongue, that’s exactly what it was. Bright, sweet, tangy orange filled my mouth. I gulped the rest down in one go, only then realizing just how parched I really was.

The ghost said something else, sharper this time, but I shut her out. Whatever grudge she had against her sister wasn’t mine. Not yet.

The headmaster refilled my cup without asking, sliding it closer. I was about to take another sip when her words stopped me.

“I am so glad you made it here, Grace. I’ve been searching for you for a very long time.”

I set the cup down slowly. “What do you mean, searching for me?”

She reached across the table and picked up a framed photograph, then placed it gently in my hands. The image showed a woman with soft, familiar features—cheekbones like mine, the same sharpness in the eyes.

“This is my niece,” she said. “And I believe you are her daughter.”

For a heartbeat, I couldn’t breathe. My eyes stayed locked on the woman in the photo. She looked so much like me that it made my chest ache. A memory flashed of the ghost’s voice the first night—You look just like my daughter.

Before I could form the question burning on my tongue, the ghost slammed forward, her translucent face twisting in fury.

“There is no way my daughter would abandon her own child! No way!” she screamed. Her voice cracked with something that wasn’t just anger—it was heartbreak, raw and sharp.

Of course, the headmaster couldn’t see her, couldn’t hear her. The outburst was wasted air. The ghost spun toward me, desperate, demanding.

“Tell her, Grace! Tell her my daughter would never abandon you!”

I didn’t answer her. My voice stayed steady as I asked the headmaster the only thing that mattered. “If that’s true… if she really was my mother… then why did she leave me?”

The ghost hissed, offended by my silence, but I didn’t meet her eyes. I wanted the truth, not denials.

The headmaster folded her hands together on the desk. “I can’t prove it yet. I’ve already sent our DNA for testing, but with how remote the school is, the results will take time. As for why she left you…” She paused, choosing her words carefully. “I believe it was to protect you.”

Her tone softened, though her posture stayed rigid, like every word she said had been rehearsed a thousand times.

“Centuries ago, my twin sister disappeared. We were meant to run this academy together, but she vanished right before our duties began. Many whispered that she left to escape responsibility. I never believed it. She had your mother to care for. She would not have abandoned her.” The headmaster’s gaze flicked briefly to the ghost hovering by the bookshelf, though I knew she couldn’t actually see her. “My suspicions grew when other students began to vanish as well. Every one of them was Dark-born—mages and creatures tied to what humans once called dark magic. Since my sister’s disappearance, hundreds of Darks have gone missing. Before your mother vanished, she confided that she thought she knew who was behind it. She just needed proof. Then she disappeared too, leaving only a note.”

Silence swallowed the room.

My hands trembled as she pressed a sealed envelope into them, replacing the photo. My name was written across it in ink so old it had bled into the paper.

“Keep it until we have the results,” she said firmly. “Whatever is inside may be your mother’s last words to you.”

The envelope felt heavier than it should, as if it carried all the weight of what I’d never known. I swallowed hard and didn’t open it.

The headmaster straightened, her tone shifting to something brisker, more professional. “Enough of that for now. Let’s discuss your place here. Since you are the only necromancer among our students, you’ll take two private courses with Professor Orin—Necromancy 101 and Necromancy History 101. He’s not a necromancer himself, but he’s devoted his life to studying the craft. You’ll also take Summoning 101 with Mrs. Dia, Familiars 101 with Mrs. Otha, and a special course with me. Because I don’t yet know who your father was, you may have abilities lying dormant. My class will help us uncover them.”

I tried to keep up, but it was a lot.

“You’ll also need to join a club,” she added. “Any club will do, so long as you participate. Don’t worry about remembering all this—the nurse placed your schedule and instructions in one of your bags. For now, rest. You don’t begin classes until Monday. Do note that our schedule includes Saturdays and Sundays, though only half days.”

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. My fingers tightened on the envelope.

The headmaster gestured toward my cup. I thought she was reminding me to drink before leaving. But as I glanced down, the porcelain shimmered, warping into the sleek shape of a water bottle, the liquid inside sparkling faintly.

Realizing that must have been a dismissal, I grabbed my bag and was already halfway through the door when her voice stopped me.

“Oh, I almost forgot. Here at Maze Academy, boys and girls are allowed to room together. I believe your dorm mate is Liam VinDuel—you should have met him already in the nurse’s office. He was serving detention there.” Her tone was almost amused, as if she already knew how I’d react. “Unfortunately, I don’t have a student free to guide you right now, but the string should be able to show you.”

Before I could even form the words absolutely not, she snapped her fingers, and I was standing outside her closed office door. My jaw clenched as I fought the urge to pound on it until she opened up again. The nerve. Rooming with Liam was the last thing I wanted, especially after what happened in the nurse’s office. Still…if I apologized, maybe it wouldn’t be that bad. I doubted the headmaster would change her mind anyway.

Trying not to fume, I shifted my bag on my shoulder and went looking for the so-called string she promised would guide me. Everything had been shoved inside my new black-and-red backpack—the one that now replaced my old patchy bag. The stack of papers my counselor had forced on me was gone. I guessed the nurse had already delivered them to the headmaster. Instead, I found a folded class schedule, a crisp Maze Academy uniform identical to Liam’s, a list of clubs I’d be expected to join, and finally, a golden ball of string with a tiny scrap of paper tied to the end.

I reached for the note, curious, but before I could read it, it was yanked from my fingers.

Athina—the lady ghost—hovered there with her eyes narrowed, holding the paper well out of reach.

“Why didn’t you tell her?” she demanded, voice sharp.

I sighed, already tired of this routine. “Because, no matter how much you insist, you don’t know. You were trapped in that grave, remember? Now, can I have the paper back?”

“You don’t need it.” She tossed it carelessly aside, the paper fluttering down a hallway draft. “That’s a direction string. Just tell it where you want to go, and it will take you. But make sure you’re holding the end, or you might lose it.”

I frowned. “I don’t know where my dorm even is, so how is that supposed to help?”

“You can use people’s names,” she said simply. “First and last. The string will find them.”

My stomach dropped. “You mean Liam. What if he’s not even at the dorm?”

Athina smirked. “Then you ask him where it is. You wanted to apologize anyway, didn’t you?”

I resisted the urge to groan. “Fine. But before I do anything, can I at least know your name? Calling you ‘lady ghost’ in my head is getting a little old.”

She let out a laugh, light and unexpected. “My name is Grace, like yours. But you can call me Athina—that’s my middle name. Now quit stalling.”

“Alrighty then.” I raised the golden string in my hand. “Take me to Liam VinDuel, please.”