Dr. Blackwell—or, as Lisa calls him, the Grand Sage—holds out his hand for a very human handshake, his eyes twinkling in my direction. "It is good to finally meet you, Ava Grey. I've heard so much about you."
From who?
"Hello," I offer cautiously, despite knowing he's one of the good ones. His handshake is firm, even if his hand is as small as a child's.
"It will be good for magic to flourish once again," he continues, and I blink.
"Excuse me?"
Dr. Blackwell's words hang in the air, and I'm not sure how to respond. Magic flourishing? What does that even mean? Before I can formulate a coherent question, Kellan clears his throat.
"I apologize for the delay in bringing Dr. Blackwell," he says, his voice oddly stiff.
Lisa's reply is equally stilted. "It's okay."
Their awkward exchange is so unnatural that I have to fake a cough to hide my amused smile. Despite the gravity of our situation, it's almost comical to see them dance around each other like this.
