He sees it before she does. It's some kind of iridescent yellow pearl, with no visible eyes and too many mouths—

He shouts the incantation again, this time directed towards the mal.

It doesn't even seem to notice. Psychic mals are fun like that.

She's slicing at it with her knife the moment she sees it, and it's not doing anything—

He has a spell that he knows will work for it but it's not an efficient one, it costs more mana than he has, probably even before the two force-blasts but definitely after—

"Give me your mana now—"

Does he think she's fucking stupid— the knife isn't working, she starts to run through one of her more complicated spells, it probably won't help but it's better than nothing—

He grabs at her while she's distracted and pulls, as hard as he can.

He shouts his stupid mana-intensive invocation, and the mal vanishes into a yellow smoke.

"Are you an idiot, you almost got us both killed."

As fast as she can, she starts reciting an incantation. It's a mental one, and nasty, not the sort of thing she'd use if she thought she might be able to save him— but she has to stop him from doing this to anyone else— she probably doesn't even have the mana, not after what he did—

He doesn't know what she's casting but he's sure as hell not letting her finish. He grabs at her mana again. Stops before he kills her, if he fucks up his anima that badly he'll be dead before the year is out. (and, and, she's an idiot but he doesn't actually want her dead, even though she just basically tried to kill him, but you can't let that sort of thing guide you—)

"I need to get to class. If you run, you might still make it before the mals get you."

He leaves.

She has to warn someone. Everyone else has scattered, she needs to— she needs to— she needs to— focus— needs to get to class—

She has a spell for alertness— doesn't have the, the mana— she needs to get to class—

She shoves herself upright and runs, or tries to. It's hard— needs to warn, warn someone—

(She does, actually, manage to build up a little by running. Not enough for anything substantial, but for something small, something in-affinity— she casts her alertness spell, the one that's a little like coffee—)

She needs to get to class right now before a mal eats her, and then she needs to warn someone about her maleficer brother before he kills someone.

Yeah, no, you're not making it to class alone while essentially out of mana.

He makes it to class just fine. He feels— great, actually, in a physical sense. He's more awake, more energetic, than he's been in weeks. Maybe since he got here.

(He's one of the last to make it into the room, and when he sets down his backpack multiple people move away from him.)

The recorded lecture drones on about something he could not possibly care about right now. He needs to care about it anyway, if he wants to live. He takes out a piece of paper and tries to stop letting his mind slip away.

(He glances at his reflection in a shard of glass. His hair is very, very, short, but he doesn't think it's ever been quite this light. It's not supposed to change that quickly, not all at once, not if you're being careful.)

He writes down something about poetic devices in German poetry. He can't afford any more stupid mistakes.

Briar isn't at lunch.

It's stupid to be upset about something that was going to happen no matter what he did. It's especially stupid to be upset about it when it was her fault.

Aren't maleficers supposed to not care about this sort of thing—

People give him a wide berth. 

That's— really bad, actually. Malia or no malia, he's not making it through three and a half years with no trading partners, no allies, no one he can swap homework with. Maybe it's the useful kind of fear where people will be willing to do things for him?

Useful or not, it keeps everyone away from him for the rest of the lunch period.

Right. Well. He's not walking to class on his own.

He goes up to a group of kids in his next class. Indies, not enclavers, he's not stupid.

"I'm going with you to class."

"—okay."

Right. Okay. This could be worse.