“They’re doing it again!” a young apprentice shouted from the steps of the Civic Annex, eyes wide. “The ward… it moved without anyone telling it to!”

Nessa Vale smiled, brushing a streak of ink from her hand. “Not moved,” she said calmly. “It’s cooperating. Look closer—it’s listening, not obeying.”

Across the square, Jorin Ashfall crouched by a failing market charm, muttering softly as he rewove the threads of magic with nimble hands. A dozen children mirrored his ...