Kell follows him across the floor, resisting the urge to pop his ears after another magical journey. Sirius is intent on a large, white owl. She is lovely, but Kell's eyes drop to the bottom of the cage where a white feather has molted.

He takes it up and carries it to the wall, reopening the cut on his arm. The feather will work better. It has to, for Kell can't bear the thought of giving Sirius bad news.

"As Tascen," he says again, letting the wall take his weight as he pours everything he has into the enchantment. Again nothing happens, and Kell opens the wound even more, pressing the feather to the wall with the gash itself. "As Enose," he says, knees quivering. Find.

But his magic does not. "Sirius," Kell whispers.