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the last clairvoyant,” she added as an afterthought.
    “Who?”
    “Brigette Genevieve.” Her lighter flared. “Distant relation.”
    The name didn’t ring a bell. I waited.  
    Nexa took a drag off her cigarette.
    I sighed. “And she’s the last clairvoyant because…”  
    “She is the only ondine we know of who now possesses that Virtue.”
    Clairvoyants had a turbulent history in our world. When controlled, their Virtue was remarkable - a magic powerful enough to peer through time and space.  
    Uncontrolled, it could devastate the person possessing it.  
    There could only be one reason for Nexa’s sudden interest in that Virtue.
    “You think she’ll see how we can end this.”
    Empath sometimes allowed me glimpses into fluctuations affecting my future. But I wasn’t a Clairvoyant, the visions were spotty at best, and my dreams had recently remained silent.
    If Brigette had a prophetic vision, it could guide us to the end of this war.
    “Perhaps.” Nexa exhaled. A ring of smoke curled around her. “Like any Virtue, prophecies are simply a tool. True power always lies in the one who wields it.”  
    Maybe. But it was still the best tool we had.
    An unnerving thought occurred to me. “What if she doesn’t have the vision soon?”
    My mother was the only ondine who’d harnessed her Clairvoyance to work for her and not the other way around.
    Clairvoyants couldn’t control when their visions occurred.
    Brigette could see something tomorrow or twenty years from now.
    The possibility of this war continuing for that long sent a chill down my spine.
    “One step at a time, dear,” Nexa murmured.
    The ocean rumbled, a rhythm of discontent in the dark.  

THREE

    A few scuffs marked the edges of the desk and forlornness painted the bare walls. I’d restored the original drapes and the ugly, striped material now flapped against the window.
    It looked exactly as it had a year ago.
    An awkward cough from behind me. “I see you’ve already cleaned out your things.”
    Great. “I didn’t expect you, Headmaster. “
    “And I certainly didn’t expect this from you.” Disappointment colored Pelletier’s voice.
    I practiced using my nice voice. “Unfortunately, rules are rules.”  
    According to law, Original Magic’s choice for the next Governor overruled everything else. If the ondine was still in school, she needed to pass a final exam proving her competence in elemental knowledge and history. Passing it was the equivalent of graduating.
    Rhian had sent me to New York to study with Catrin Bessette in preparation for the test. If I didn’t pass, necessity still demanded I leave the Academy dorms and move into the Governing House.
    But I’d have to continue coursework until the end of the year. Aub promised to help, but given the current situation with the Shadow, being stuck doing homework was the last thing I wanted or needed.  
    Pelletier casually removed an envelope from his breast pocket. “Today’s a big day for you.”
    I nodded.
    Silence.
    “I really should get going,” I hinted.
    Nothing.
    “Headmaster, if those are my test results —“
    “You passed.”
    Yes. I resisted the urge to pump my fist in the air.  
    “This is the paperwork finalizing the end of your studies at the Academy.”
    He handed over the envelope.
    I grasped it.
    His fingers tightened.
    I pulled.
    He wouldn’t let go.
    I tugged a little harder. Damn it. “The rules are clear, Headmaster.”
    His grip tightened.  
    “You knew this might happen when I passed the Original Magic trial,” I pointed out.
    “Yes,” he said, subdued. “But not so soon.”
    Surprised, I let go.
    Pelletier glanced down at the plain envelope. The grooves etching his brow and sides of his mouth had deepened over the year, emphasizing his sagging jawline.    
    He looked old.
    “There has only been one other time in history that someone left these dorms early to move to the Governing House.”
    Rhian had been eighteen when she