Mira opened her eyes. She was smiling. Small, tentative, but real. "Thank you. For doing this."
Finn shrugged. "Don’t thank me yet. You haven’t passed the first test."
"What’s the first test?"
"Not giving up."
---
That night, after Mira left, Finn sat on his bed and stared at the ceiling. The spider was gone. Its web remained, empty, waiting.
"Lucian," he said.
"Hm."
"Why did you agree to teach her? You could have said no. You could have sent her away."
Lucian was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "Because she reminded me of someone."
"Evelyn?"
"No." Lucian’s voice was soft. "Someone else. Someone I failed a long time ago."
Finn wanted to ask more. He could feel the shape of the story behind Lucian’s words, the weight of it, the sadness. But he’d learned that some doors didn’t open when you pushed. They opened when they were ready.
"Are you going to fail her?" Finn asked.
"No."
"Then what’s the difference?"
Lucian turned to look at him. "The difference is I’m paying attention now."
Finn nodded. He lay back, pulled the blanket over his chest, and closed his eyes.
He dreamed of alleys. Dark ones. The smell of rain on cobblestones. The sound of his own footsteps, running, always running. His mother’s voice, calling his name from somewhere far away. He tried to run toward her, but the alley stretched, and she faded, and he woke up with his heart pounding.
Lucian was at the window, watching the street.
"Bad dream?" he asked.
"Same one."
"It’ll fade. Eventually."
"How do you know?"
"Because everything fades. Eventually." Lucian didn’t turn around. "Go back to sleep."
Finn closed his eyes.
The dream didn’t come back.
---
In the morning, Mira was at the door again. Earlier this time. Her hair was brushed. Her robes were neat. She had a notebook in her hands.
"I wrote down everything you said last night," she said. "The breathing. The focus. The exercises. I practiced until midnight."
Finn blinked. "You practiced?"
"I don’t want to fail." Her voice was steady. "I don’t have anywhere else to go."
Finn looked at her. At the notebook. At the shadows under her eyes that said she hadn’t slept much either.
"Come in," he said.
Mira stepped inside.
Lucian was at his desk, already working. He didn’t look up. But the corner of his mouth twitched.
Somewhere in the Academy, Professor Thorn received a report. The outsider was teaching again. Not his student this time. A girl. A null. A nobody.
Thorn read the report twice. Then he set it down and stared at the wall.
He didn’t know what to do.
That was the worst part.