I took a seat on a nearby chair and tried to relax, though the reassurance about the professor’s mood did very little to help. The place still radiated a tomb-like chill and an alarming surplus of the supernatural per square metre. The slick-haired man noticed me looking around and, grinning, asked:

  “Not used to it?”

  “Well,” I hesitated, glancing at the skeletons who continued their tasks with unsettling professionalism, “let’s just say that in my world… there’s less undead. Here, every corner seems to come with a bony grin.”

  “Oh, you haven’t really seen the Academy yet,” he chuckled. “It’s lively. Ghosts, skeletons, and plenty of other interesting beings. But at least,” he lowered his voice conspiratorially, “zombies don’t wander around freely like they used to.”

  “Don’t wander freely?” I echoed, shuddering despite myself. “They did?”

  The assistant nodded, clearly enjoying himself.

  “Oh yes. Back when I was a student, zombies were quite common here. Professor Grey, however, isn’t particularly fond of them. He prefers ghosts and skeletons — less hassle. They’re obedient, always clean, and, most importantly, they don’t smell.”

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  “An excellent choice,” I snorted. “Hard to argue that a clean, non-rotting employee is preferable to one actively decomposing.”

  “Ah — forgot to introduce myself,” he said, giving a slight bow and holding the edge of his robe. “Mannik Talvan. Postgraduate student and, incidentally, Professor Grey’s assistant. I help run practical sessions for the lower years, so I imagine we’ll be seeing each other again. Just don’t expect any leniency.”

  “Well, thank you for the honesty, Mannik,” I smirked, feeling the tension ease slightly. “For the record, I’m Marina Orlova. Or Malinka, if that’s easier.”

  Mannik raised an eyebrow, clearly pleased.

  “Malinka, then?” He nodded, committing it to memory. “Though you didn’t really need to introduce yourself. Everyone here already knows about you. Outworlder. Special case. And now you’re due for a magical aptitude assessment. Professor Grey will conduct it personally — mandatory ritual and all that.”

  A moment later, Mannik nodded for me to follow, and together we entered Professor Grey’s office.

  I had expected something impressive. Reality, as usual, exceeded expectations.

  Professor Grey stood by a massive window, the light outlining his severe profile. Tall, with slightly wavy dark hair and grey eyes you could drown in — and not necessarily resurface from. His features were sharp, angular, as if carved from stone. And… annoyingly, undeniably handsome.

  I caught myself staring a second longer than appropriate and quickly looked away before he noticed.

  Professor Grey regarded me with a cold gaze, and the first thing he said — without bothering to greet me — was:

  “And what, exactly, possessed you to enchant Yarson? Were you never taught to keep your hands to yourself and not fling spells around indiscriminately?”