“Wow! This place is amazing!” Ivy said, looking up at the magnificent architechture silhoetted against the night sky. The pale, grey spires towered above us like a cathedral built with impossible grace.
“Keep your voice down!” I hissed, fiddling with the lock on the student’s entrance with only a small hint of panic. “This is serious! If someone sees me helping you sneak in here-”
“How did they manage to make the towers so thin?” Ivy mused to himself, seemingly oblivious to my agitation. “Steel reinforcements? Or did they do it with magic?”
I finally got the door open, and hurried Ivy inside, throwing another look around outside to make sure no one was watching us.
I closed the door as quietly as I could and turned around. We were now in something between a common room and a cloak room, a place where students met up before going out into the city.
There was crackling fire and a few armchairs by it. In one of them, a man sat, looking up at us as if disturbed from contemplation.
It was Magister Phillips.