It took some time to get my plan together, each piece falling into place as the days blurred by. Classes came and went, potions exploded in flashes of purple smoke, and late-night study sessions bled into one or two secret meetings with Owen Thorn. I found myself so busy that I couldn’t put my scheme into actual motion until the day before the 30th.

As I made my way across the great lawn, a roar echoed above me. I looked up in time to see a dragon swoop overhead, the pounding of her massive wings ruffling through my hair and clothes. My pulse jumped at the sight, still not quite over my low-key bout of trauma from the Wand of Illusion debacle. Guess the D in PTSD stands for dragon.  

The lawn was empty, considering we were supposed to still be in History of Northern Magics  right now, but I knew Ferula always ditched that class because she thought it was boring. The only thing that I loved more than class was Owen Thorn, so despite the fact that it was killing me to play hooky, I’d slipped off to follow her. It was the only time I could speak with her alone. 

I found Ferula perched on one of the stone slabs that jutted from the earth like a dragon’s ribcage, one leg lazily draped over the edge. Her wand flicked in broad, sweeping arcs, leaving trails of multi-colored sparkles behind. As I drew closer, I realized the sparkles were forming the  glittering image of a unicorn, its form taking shape in the air. 

I made my way toward her, attempting to look as casual and nonchalant as possible. “Hey, Ferula.”

Ferula waved a hand through the unicorn, sending the glittering particles dissipating into the air. “Niko Price.”

It required a considerable effort not to fanboy scream from the fact that one of my favorite characters of all time was directly addressing me. 

“Well, this is a surprise I didn’t expect today.” Ferula quirked a pierced eyebrow, giving me a once-over with a smirk. “Didn’t think you had much interest in talking to anyone besides that literal piece of shit you follow around.”

She flicked her wand, and more swirls of color spiraled out, twisting and blending until they settled into the messy image of a face with dark hair. Even though it was rough, I instantly recognized the lopsided sneer she’d drawn. It was supposed to be Lucian. 

“Heh,” I snickered, “that’s actually pretty good.”

Ferula rolled her eyes. “I don’t know why you hang out with him. You’re one of us.”

I blinked. “What do you mean?”

Ferula tapped the tip of her ear. “I’m a human. You’re a human. He’s an elf.” She smiled thinly. “Us humans are supposed to stick together. Or maybe you forgot how the Great Darkness wants to slaughter and enslave us all. That’s why you can’t trust elves, deep down, they secretly want it to happen.”

“Not all elves are like that,” I countered, my hands clenching at my sides. “Look at Banecliff, or the Elvish High Council. The only way the magical world grows stronger is if we work together.”

Ferula snorted, blowing her mint-colored bangs out of her eyes. “You sound like Banecliff.”

“You really think so?” I fought the urge to swoon. “That’s literally the greatest compliment I’ve ever gotten in my life.”

“You’re an odd one, Niko Price,” Ferula mused, twirling her wand as she added a curly mustache to her drawing of Lucian. “I still can’t figure out what your deal is. But trust me, eventually I will.” She leaned forward, resting an arm on her knee. “But human to human, let me give you some advice. You seriously need to stop hanging out with that prick. Everyone knows the Darkona family are the Great Darkness’ most loyal supporters. It's the worst kept secret in all of Mageteria.”

Not to be ‘that guy,’ but actually, the Great Darkness’ most loyal supporter was a character named Arson Bareneck who was mentioned  twice in book five and had his symbol tattooed across his forehead. But considering this was real life and not Reddit, I decided not to fight her on that. 

“Funnily enough,” I said, “Lucian was what I came to talk about.”

“Listen, Price, I told Owen his weird quest to connect with him was a bad idea long before he almost got punched in the face.” She flicked her wand again, adding horns to the drawing of Lucian’s head. “I might be a bitch, like, eighty nine percent of the time, but that’s only because I’m authentic.” She turned her head, her gaze meeting mine. “Which is why I genuinely mean it when I say thank you for jumping in front of Owen. He's been in an emotional slump after the wyvern incident and…” She hesitated a beat, as if planning her next words carefully, “...another thing that happened last semester. When Owen gets super emotional, his power tends to get explosive and out of control. So if you hadn’t stepped in there would have probably been a huge blow up and who knows what would've…”

She sighed, shaking her head. “Anyways, what I’m trying to say is that I really appreciate what you did for him.” She glanced at me and then rolled her eyes. “Daemons, Price, wipe that shit-eating-grin off your face! I only thanked you, I’m not suddenly declaring us besties or some shit. Now, why did you want to talk about Lucian? Did he want something, because I can already assure you that the answer is going to undoubtedly be a resounding no—”

I yanked out the Wand of Illusion. I needed to get her to help me, no matter what. With a wide, sweeping arc, I painted a sneering, animated version of Lucian hovering above us, his condescending grin even more exaggerated than in real life. Then, with a flick of my wrist, I drew a dick right across his face.

Ferula's eyes widened as she took in my floating masterpiece, her mouth hanging open in surprise. It looked damn good, I knew it did. I’d perfected the art of anti-Lucian drawings by making hundreds of them for my Lucian Darokna hate account (@DORKona on Tumblr).

“I want you to help me prank, Lucian,” I said firmly. 

Ferula didn’t speak for a moment, just staring up at the drawing. 

Then a grin spread across her face. “Okay, I retract my previous statement. What kind of prank are we talking here?”

***

It was Hallows' Eve—the day Lucian was supposed to sneak out to meet the Great Darkness in the forest. Tonight, they’d begin to merge. Which meant it was now or never to put my plan into motion.

Peeking over the top of A History of Mermaid Aqueducts and Engineering (a fascinating read, by the way), I zeroed in on Lucian as he hunched over a bubbling vial in our dorm. His fingers carefully pinched rose petals, about to sprinkle them into the mixture. I glanced down at the pen I’d been using to annotate, smirked, and chucked it at him.

The pen nailed him right in the back of the head. Booyah! Who sucks at sports now, Dad?

Lucian jerked forward, dropping the rose petal too early. A puff of red smoke exploded in his face, fogging up his goggles. 

He spun around in his chair, wiping a hand over them so I could see his eyes as he glared at me. “What the hell, Neato?”

I grinned at him over the edge of my book. “I have a fun idea for something we could do tonight.” 

Lucian’s expression darkened. “I can’t. I’m…” His jaw clenched, gaze flickering away. “Busy.”

Yeah, busy being drawn into an evil scheme that will ruin your life along with everyone else’s, asshole.

“C’mon,” I said, “don’t you want to at least hear the idea?”

“No—”

“We should sneak into the great hall and steal some leftover snacks! I swear, it'll only take five minutes. It’ll be fun.”

Lucian wrinkled his nose. “That doesn’t sound like fun. That sounds like a shortcut to childhood diabetes.”

I rubbed my fingers together, dropping my voice to a gravelly rasp, “But what if I make you an offer you can’t refuse?”

Lucian blinked. “What the actual fuck are you doing?”

I groaned. “Wasting an incredibly good Don Corleone impression on someone who literally could never understand the reference, apparently.”

“You are so strange. I say, once again, endearingly.” Lucian rolled his eyes, turning back to his bubbling concoction. “And just so we’re clear, there is nothing you could offer me that would ever make me want to—”

“Go with me then I’ll come with you to the goblin market.”

Lucian froze.

His back went rigid, his brows pulling together deep in thought, probably making some sort of mental pros and cons venn diagram. Then he let out a low exhale. 

“Fine. I’ll go. But you have to promise it’ll really only take five minutes.”

I batted my lashes, flashing him an innocent smile. “Would I ever lie to you?”

Which is how Lucian soon found himself dragged into the dinning hall in the middle of the night. It was weird being in such a big space with no one else in it. The chairs were empty and the tables bare, the place unnerving quiet without the rumble of hundreds of conversations. Our footsteps echoed through the chamber as we made our way inside. 

“Are you sure they actually keep leftovers here?” Lucian asked, his voice bouncing off the walls. “This place looks considerably desolate.”

I shrugged. “Susan Nubs said they do.”

“Susan Nubs?” Lucian gawked. “That’s like asking a gnome if it thinks the sky is purple or red.” 

“I… What the hell does that even…” I shook my head. “You know what, I’m not even going to attempt to decipher the gnome analogies anymore.” I cleared my throat. “Anyways, I figured it was a win-win situation. Either we get some late night snacks or I get to prove Susan wrong.”

A light thud reverberated through the air. 

Lucian came to a halt, his gaze darting around the hall. “Did you hear that?”

I tilted my head. “Hear what?”

“A sound…” His attention fell to the door. “Did one of us shut that? I could have sworn it was open a moment ago.”

I shrugged. “We must’ve done it and then forgotten. I mean, you seem pretty distracted.”

“Because I have more important places to be.” Lucian made his way to the kitchen, sticking his head inside. “Well, looks like Susan was wrong. It’s completely empty in here. They must stock all the food up in the morning.” He let out a little huff. “Well this has been a spectacular waste of my time. Come on, let’s go before someone catches us and we get in trouble.”

Lucian stormed back over to the door, grabbing the handle as he went to pull it open. 

The door didn’t budge.

He tried again, adding even more force.

Nothing.

Lucian’s face went ashen. 

“What’s wrong?” I asked sweetly. 

“The door,” Lucian said, “it’s stuck.”

“Oh no!” I gasped. “How is that possible?”

But it was, in fact, very possible. Especially when my goal was to lock myself and my evil inclined roommate in a room so he couldn’t run off and become even evil-er. 

First I needed a girl (possibly named Ferula) who hated his guts. Then, all I had to do was simply break into a classroom, collect some nimnim ink, lure said roommate into the great hall, and have the girl (again, possibly named Ferula) cover the door in nimnim goo before shutting it and trapping us both inside.

I know, I’m a fucking genius.