A few darting looks from some of my classmates drag me from my thoughts. I shift uncomfortably in my seat as I remember all over again that only three days ago, I was a wanted suspect for murder.

I still hate you, I say to Memnon. It’s a super shitty way to reach out to someone you haven’t spoken with in days, but I think Memnon’s earned this sort of greeting.

Down our bond, I feel a flush of amusement.

Are you just randomly musing on this, or⁠—

Everyone around me still thinks I’m guilty, I say.

That’s not technically true. They might be aware that my name’s been cleared, and they’re simply curious. Either way, it sucks.

Want me to come over there and wipe everyone’s memory of those events?

It would be a hilarious offer if I didn’t believe he was serious.

Goddess, Memnon. Can you not go feral for five minutes?

I feel his grin through our bond, the sensation of it warming me from the inside out.

Stop smiling. It’s annoying.

Memnon does stop smiling, and I somehow hate that even more. I’m about to withdraw the command, feeling like a big meanie, when Memnon says, Let those witches fear you. They should. You are powerful and terrifying, and you have made yourself a formidable opponent. Maybe then people will think twice before they fuck with you—just as I have.

Before I can respond to that Professor Huang walks in, their long black hair flowing like a curtain behind them.

My professor lays their notes out on the podium, looking a little askance before they face the class. “Happy Samhain to you all.”

A few people cheer in response.

The professor nods to a few witches seated in various rows. “I see many of you are already wearing your costumes. I’m glad to see you all in a celebratory mood. This night is your birthright to claim, but I want to take this time to caution all of you to be safe during this evening’s festivities. A campus-wide curfew of six p.m. will go into effect starting tomorrow, November first. Witches will be expected to be inside by sundown and to remain indoors until sunup. Any assignments requiring nighttime spellcasting will be altered to respect this curfew while it’s in place.”

The room is lethally silent, but that tension has ratcheted up.

“Your safety is of the highest priority to all of us instructors here at Henbane.”

I think of Lauren and how she must’ve chased me through the woods two weeks ago and how she’s scouting students for binding ceremonies. My stomach gives a sick twist. Not all instructors here are looking out for our safety.

Professor Huang glances down at their notes and clears their throat. “I would like today to be just another lecture,” they say, “but in light of the recent deaths, I don’t feel as though I can stick to the scheduled discussion. So instead, I want to use today’s lesson to focus on dark magic—what it is, how it is used, and why it is considered forbidden.”

The room goes uncomfortably quiet. This is the part of witchcraft we don’t speak of, the part that we’re supposed to pretend doesn’t exist at all, even though it’s always been there, lurking on the periphery of our world. It’s the aspect of our power that has gotten witches into trouble through the ages.

“With that,” the professor continues, “I’d like to ask you all: What is the first lesson all witches must learn?”

“Primum non nocere,” I call out.

First, do no harm.

The Hippocratic oath. Physicians aren’t the only ones who follow it; witches do as well.

Professor Huang steeples their fingers on the podium, and they nod their head. “Do no harm,” they repeat, enunciating each word.

I mean, it’s a good idea for witches—in theory. In practice, what does that really mean? If someone makes a tincture for success, maybe it helps them, but what if in the process, it fucks over a colleague? Or someone brews a love potion, and it works—but perhaps it robs their significant other of an experience they should’ve had with another. Is it fair to meddle? Where do you draw that line?

“One of the better known dark magic users was Elizabeth Bathory, who wove spells from the blood of hundreds of people whom she tortured and killed to maintain her youth and beauty. Less well known is Gretta Gimbley, who extended her own life by cannibalizing the spelled flesh of her victims. What she didn’t consume, she used to prepare deeply cursed potions, which she sold as medicinal tonics.”

Gretta obviously sounds like a super fun human being.

I go to jot the information down, but…I don’t feel that same pressing need. Now that my memories have returned, my notetaking doesn’t have to be quite so diligent. After a moment’s hesitation, I write it all down anyway. There’s something unbearably comforting about falling back on these old habits. I’m not ready yet to make new ones.

Professor Huang continues, “We sense intuitively what dark magic is—we hear these stories, and we know these witches were utilizing it—but what actually is dark magic? What is blood magic? How do curses and hexes tie into this?”

Everyone is silent, tense.

“To answer the first question, dark magic is any power that deliberately draws on or causes the pain and suffering of another. This can be a spell whose outcome is for another to feel pain and misfortune—such as a curse or a hex, the latter of which is more of a minor misfortune. Then there’s where the power is drawn from. If it is drawn from an unwilling source or taken using unnecessary cruelty and force, then that will draw out dark magic.”

My pulse spikes when I remember that some of my fights over the last two weeks drew on or caused pain. I sink a little lower in my seat.

The professor continues. “Dark magic is a perversion of the natural flow of the universe, and in order to correct for it, magic exacts a price from whoever wields it. This is why the Law of Three exists. Good begets good, and bad begets bad. So I gave you all some clear, basic examples of dark magic, but there are other, murkier aspects of it as well. Collecting power from already dead and decaying things might also draw out dark magic, even if you didn’t kill that thing.” Professor Huang’s eyes sweep over the room as they speak. “All this is further complicated by the fact that sometimes you might have to cause pain to stop a greater suffering—like incapacitating someone who is hurting another. Would that be considered dark magic?”

No one answers, but we’re all waiting with bated breath to hear what Professor Huang has to say.

They give the room a rueful smile. “This is where the headache-inducing nuances of magic lie. The unhelpful answer to this is that it might be considered dark magic and it might not. Ultimately, however, the biggest factor that determines whether your magic is dark or not is your own intentions. So much of this has to do with intent.”

One of my classmates raises her hand. “Why would anyone prefer dark magic to light?”

Our instructor’s gaze is steady on my classmate, their expression grim. “Power, my dear. Dark magic may be dangerous, but with it comes lots and lots of power.”

Once class lets out, I slide my notebook into my bag and make my way to the podium, where a few other witches are currently speaking with Professor Huang.

Once the students ahead of me are finished, I step up to my instructor, fidgeting with the strap of my bag.

Professor Huang raises their eyes. “Yes?”

“I have a question regarding…bonds.”

If my instructor is surprised by the topic, they don’t let on.

“I’m confused about the different types,” I clarify. “I know there’s fated bonds…”

My professor jumps in. “So,” they say, “there’s a lot of nuance to this subject because fated bonds—think soul mates and familiars—do not require binding spells. Fated bonds are intrinsic, magical connections. They get lumped together in name, but truly, in most regards, they are their own thing. As for binding spells, these occur all the time among witches and mages. They’re so normal that they get overlooked. Unbreakable oaths, for instance, are a type of binding spell. There are also other, more unnatural things that can be bound together. Take love spells, for instance. The target of a love spell may have no initial interest in the person who pines for them. A love spell binds the two—for a time. Just long enough to create an opportunity for some real chemistry.”