The spiral gate to the Maze of Wills had opened like the mouth of some ancient creature they'd never before seen.
The crowd hushed as ElderGlow's Year Five team stepped toward it, four students with cloaks pulled tight and expressions like carved stone.
Among them, one figure lagged half a step behind—not out of fear or sloppiness, but like someone who wanted to be overlooked.
Elias Verdan.
Damon's gaze locked on him the moment the team emerged.
Average height. Brown hair a little too long for regulation, brushing his ears and the back of his collar.
Unremarkable posture, the kind you'd expect from someone trying to stay out of his instructor's line of sight. Black eyes. But not the kind that gleamed with ambition or sharpened with cunning.
Black like still water. Black like nothing.
Damon leaned forward on the railing of the viewing deck, elbows on the cool stone ledge, watching the descent begin.
"He's doing it again," he muttered under his breath.
