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Cassandra hits the floor before I can process what the hell just happened.
One second she's standing there, frost crawling up the door she just sealed, telling me I wasn't supposed to wake up. Next second her legs give out and she goes down hard, shoulder slamming the edge of her stupid ornate desk.
ER brain kicks in before the rest of me catches up.
I'm across the room, dropping to my knees beside her. My hands go to her neck, fingers pressing for a pulse. It's there but it's wrong. Too fast, too thin, like her heart's trying to punch through her ribs and failing.
"Don't touch me." Her voice comes out barely a whisper. Her face is white, actual white, like someone drained her. The ice-queen composure is gone. She's shaking.
I ignore her. Obviously.
"What happened? What did you just do?" I'm checking her pupils now. Reactive but sluggish. Her breathing's shallow.
She tries to push my hand away. Fails. "The sealing. It requires—" She cuts off, gasping. "Blood anchor. Old magic. I'm fine."
"Yeah, you look great. Super fine. That's why you're on the floor."
Her glare would probably incinerate me if she had the energy for it. She doesn't. Another tremor runs through her, and I watch her jaw clench trying to hide it.
I've seen this before. Not the magic part, the crash part. Adrenaline dump, system shock, body saying *nope we're done now*. Doesn't matter if it's a car accident or a code blue or apparently a blood magic door lock. The body has limits.
"Lie down." I'm already guiding her flat, one hand on her shoulder. She's cold. Like, ice-water cold. The frost on the door isn't just for show. It's coming *from* her. "Don't fight me. You're in shock."
"I am not—"
"Your hands are shaking and your pulse is one-forty. You're in shock. Shut up and let me work."
She actually does. Maybe she's too weak to argue. Maybe she's too surprised I'm not running. Maybe she's just that close to blacking out.
I grab a cushion off the nearby chair, prop her legs up. Elevate the extremities, keep blood flowing to the brain. Basic first aid. Then I'm back at her side, two fingers on her wrist, eyes on my watch.
Except I don't have a watch. Right. Dead. Different world. Magic school. Still no watch.
I count in my head instead. One-one-thousand, two-one-thousand. Thirty seconds, double it. Yeah. Way too high.
"Your heart rate's through the roof," I tell her. "What else? Pain? Dizziness? Nausea?"
"Why are you helping me?" She's staring at me now, and her eyes are too bright, fever-bright. Or maybe magic-bright. Who the hell knows anymore. "You should be trying to escape."
"Can't. You froze the door, genius." I press my palm flat against her sternum, feeling the rise and fall of her breathing. It's steadying. Slowly. "Besides, you're not exactly in a position to stop me right now. So maybe you should just say thank you and let me make sure you don't die."
"I am not going to die from a sealing spell."
"Cool. Then you won't mind me double-checking."
Her jaw works like she's chewing on something sharp. Then she exhales and closes her eyes. "The mark. On your wrist. When I activated the seal, it reacted."
I glance down. The weird symbol that appeared last night, the one that pulsed under my skin, it's still there. Faint now, but visible. Black lines like someone tattooed me while I was dead.
"Reacted how?"
"It drained me." Her voice is tight. "The Midnight Summoner's mark is a conduit. It pulls magic from the caster. That's how she—" She stops herself. "That's how you're supposed to work."
"I didn't do anything."
"You don't have to. Your presence is enough." She opens her eyes again, and there's something in her expression I can't read. Fear, maybe. Anger. Resignation. "The prophecy said the Summoner would return and consume the academy from within. Looks like it was right."
Great. Fantastic. I'm a magical parasite now.
"I'm a nurse," I say flatly. "I don't consume people. I keep them alive. Which is what I'm doing right now, in case you haven't noticed."
"You're an ER nurse." She says it like an accusation. "How do you even know that?"
Oh. Right. I shouldn't know that. I didn't tell her. I didn't tell anyone.
I don't answer. Instead I check her pulse again. It's dropping. Still elevated, but better. Her color's coming back too, that deathly white fading to normal pale.
"You were talking in your sleep last night," Cassandra says quietly. "Rena reported it. Medical terminology. Codes. Drug names. Defibrillator charge levels." She pauses. "You called for someone named Marco. You said he was crashing."
My throat closes up.
Marco. Nineteen. Motorcycle accident. Came in during hour forty-three of my shift. We lost him at hour forty-six.
I don't want to talk about Marco.
"Your heart rate's stabilizing," I say instead. "You should stay down for another ten minutes. Drink water when you can. Don't try to cast anything else tonight."
I start to pull back. Her hand snaps out and catches my wrist.
Her fingers are still cold, but her grip is solid. She's stronger than she looks. She pulls my arm down, turning it so the mark is visible between us.
"This isn't a gift," she says. "The Midnight Summoner wasn't a hero. She was a monster. She killed half the academy before they managed to stop her. The only reason you're alive right now is because the Headmistress wants to study you before we make a final decision."
"Final decision."
"Execution or expulsion. We're still debating which is safer."
She says it so calm. Like she's discussing the weather. Like she didn't just admit they're planning to kill me.
I should be terrified. I should be panicking.
Instead I'm just tired.
"Cool," I hear myself say. "Good talk. Can I go now, or are you going to bleed out some more magic to keep me locked in here?"
Her eyes narrow. Then she lets go of my wrist and sits up. Too fast. I see the dizziness hit her, see her sway.
I catch her shoulder before she tips over.
"I said ten minutes," I snap. "Are you trying to pass out again?"
"I'm fine."
"You're not. Sit. Down."
We're close now. Too close. I can feel the cold radiating off her, see the way her breath comes a little too quick. Her eyes are locked on mine, and there's something in them I don't understand. Something that makes my stomach twist.
"You're infuriating," she says softly.
"Yeah, well. You're stubborn. We're even."
For a second, I think she's going to push me away. Or freeze me solid. Or do whatever terrifying magic thing she's capable of.
Instead she laughs.
It's short, barely a breath, but it's real. The ice queen laughed.
Then she reaches past me, picks up a folder from her desk. It's got an official-looking seal on it, gold and silver, fancy script I can't read.
She tears it in half.
Just rips it clean down the middle, drops both pieces on the floor.
"That was the expulsion order," she says. "Signed this morning."
My heart does something complicated in my chest.
"Why—"
"Because you're right." She stands up, slower this time, steadier. I let her. "You're not trying to hurt anyone. You don't even know what you are. And if the prophecy is real, locking you out won't stop it. It'll just mean you'll destroy something else instead."
She walks to her desk, picks up another piece of paper. This one's blank.
She writes something. Signs it. Then turns back to me.
"The academy holds a dueling tournament every quarter. Combat magic, defensive spells, tactical summoning. Top three competitors earn a sponsorship and a seat on the Arcane Council after graduation."
I stare at her. "Okay?"
"You're entering."
"I'm *what*?"
"If you're really the Midnight Summoner, you'll have power. We need to see it. Control it. Understand it before it controls you." She holds out the paper. "And if you're not, if you're just a lost nurse from another world with a unfortunate mark, then you'll lose in the first round and we'll know you're harmless."
"I don't have magic."
"Then you'll die in the arena." She says it flat. Matter-of-fact. "But at least it'll be quick. Better than whatever the Headmistress has planned."
I take the paper.
It's an entry form. My name is already filled in. Alexandra Morris, competitor. Division: Open Class. Sponsor: Cassandra Nightthorn.
I look up at her. "You're sponsoring me?"
"Someone has to. And I'm the only one who knows you don't have magic yet." She crosses her arms. "I'll train you. Basic shields, elemental channeling, combat theory. You have three weeks until the first match."
"Three weeks to learn magic I don't have."
"Yes."
"So I don't die in front of the entire school."
"Correct."
I should say no. I should tell her this is insane. I should demand they send me home, or at least explain what the hell is happening.
But Marco's face flashes through my head. The flatline. The way his mom screamed.
I didn't save him.
Maybe I can't save myself either.
But I can try.
"Fine," I say. "When do we start?"
Cassandra smiles. It's not a nice smile.
"Now."