I Learned Magic for All the Wrong Reasons

Chapter 44: Chapter 44: The Shortcut Was a Terrible Suggestion

The nurse called back while Dante and Posey were still at the table, asking them to keep the records together for the next checkup. She reminded them that matching a day did not identify a cause, then asked Posey to report any change in how she felt.

At residence, Posey chose dinner on the sofa with Jett and told Dante to enjoy the pub instead of guarding her from a cushion. She wanted the real story tomorrow and one evening without questions about her health, so he stopped circling and agreed.

Rhea suggested a nearby music bar before the last shuttle. Dante checked the time, charged his phone and promised Jett a departure message, while Anika saved the route and Rhea packed sealed dressings and her monitoring charm.

Dante left his paper notes with Posey and kept phone copies. From the shuttle, he sent her a photograph of a seat reserved for detachable heads, and she asked whether he’d checked under his own before sitting.

At the Copper Turtle, Mrs. Mori put water in front of Dante and brought their dinner while Rhea ordered small strawberry shots for herself and Anika. Dante stayed with water and stole a fry when Anika called that mature, because good decisions ought to come with some reward and he wasn’t allowed the interesting drinks.

Their strawberry shots let out tiny pink flames when Rhea tapped the rims, leaving the smell of toasted sugar. Dante watched over his water. When Mrs. Mori asked for student-night names, he offered Thirsty Scholars, covering education and most other campus interests. She wrote it down despite herself.

Dante asked whether he could practice another bingo round next week, and Mrs. Mori promised him a quieter afternoon before putting money or elderly grudges at risk. Rhea told him her regulars could identify a missed number through a wall. He saved the time anyway, wanting something on his schedule that required preparation rather than surviving until somebody gave him a new appointment.

Rhea and Anika finished their shots with dinner before the three of them walked to a smaller music bar two streets over and ordered sodas. A singer with a transparent throat held three notes at once. Colored rings drifted from her mouth and burst above the tables in time with the drums, making Dante forget his soda.

Anika brushed his sleeve and asked if the extra voice would improve his imaginary speeches. He admitted it would, provided it stayed on topic, then nearly walked into an empty chair remembering their kiss.

Rhea smiled and suggested progress or a head injury. Dante made room beside him, explaining that enjoying himself was new enough to justify medical concern.

She leaned close to explain the singer’s harmony, her breath warming his ear until he forgot most of the words. He asked her to repeat them because she’d actually wanted to tell him something, and her smile at his eventual useful question pleased him more than getting away with staring.

”I did hear the part about sharing the breath,” he offered, which made her lower the glass she had been about to drink from. ”That’s encouraging, because I was explaining three windpipes.” Anika laughed while Dante admitted he might need the diagram, and Rhea promised him one if he stopped treating anatomy as an invitation. He liked the way she stayed close enough to finish explaining.

Dante checked the return time again before standing, pleased that enjoyment had not made him forget the plan.

They left before the agreed shuttle, passing a shop selling umbrellas that turned inside out to reject bad weather. Dante bought nothing, but the smallest umbrella bowed to Anika as though it had recognized someone important enough to sue the sky.

At the corner, Rhea stopped to answer her mother’s message. Dante checked the route sign and found a lit arrow pointing down a paved passage marked SHUTTLE PLATFORM, SIX MINUTES.

”That’s better than going around the block,” he said, holding the turn for them. ”For once, I have located an exit without becoming a patient.”

Anika checked the arrow and followed with Rhea, who confirmed they had time. A delivery cyclist entered the ordinary paved passage ahead, his basket complaining about the cold when shop walls gave way to planted trees.

Dante laughed until the bicycle bell sounded behind them, although the rider had just passed ahead.

He turned at the second ring and found trees where the brick passage should have been. The cyclist had vanished from the path ahead as well, and Dante stopped so suddenly that Anika caught his sleeve, asking what he had seen.

He stopped the women before they reached the next bend. Rhea opened the shuttle map, which still showed them beside the shops, while Anika photographed the nearest sign and watched its arrow turn slowly toward the trees.

”We go back together,” Dante said, keeping his phone light on the ground. His voice sounded calmer than his stomach felt, but he had made the suggestion and wanted to do something better than apologize at the next emergency desk.

They retraced their steps until a fallen branch blocked the paving. Beyond it lay a shallow stream instead of the bicycle lane, and the same shuttle sign stood on the opposite bank with its arrow pointing directly at them.

Rhea called campus security while she still had a signal. She gave the last real street corner, described the false sign and sent their location, then stayed on the call while Dante photographed the changing path. She repeated their names slowly, making sure the officer had heard all three before continuing.

The connection broke halfway through the officer’s reply. Her phone displayed the sent location, which was better than nothing, but the blue route now circled around their own feet.

Dante photographed the branch, then tried matching its broken end to the path. A trunk slid between him and the women without disturbing a leaf. He stepped back to them at once. Whatever rules moved this place, he wasn’t learning them by letting it split the group.

”I’m beginning to dislike the landscaping,” he said, pocketing the phone before his shaking hand dropped it. The Unwritten would have looked disgusted at the delay, which seemed more useful than looking ready to wet himself, so he borrowed the voice. ”If this place needs a terrifying visitor, I can provide The Unwritten, although the booking fee has gone up.”

Anika told him not to advertise, but something beyond the stream laughed before he could answer. The sound belonged to a woman, close enough that he expected to see her standing between the nearest trees.

”The Unwritten took his time,” she said, and several lamps farther along the bank began to glow. ”Bring the red-haired woman forward, and perhaps we can decide whether to let the other two leave.”