Something beneath my skin responds to being here. It’s a buzzing, humming energy that rises from my core and spreads through my limbs. My fingertips tingle, and when I look down, tiny sparks dance across my skin.
“What’s happening to me?” My voice sounds distant in my own ears.
“This is a magical place, and your powers sense that.” Laurel’s words, for once, aren’t edged with haughty aggression. She seems to be genuinely imparting wisdom—you know, like a true coven leader. “Your body is responding to the ambient energy here. Arcana was built at a convergence of ley lines, the same way Emberwood was.”
I spin slowly, taking it all in. In the distance, figures are hustling across the vast, expansive grounds and down the pathways. Some are walking, some floating, others shifting forms as they go. “Where are they all going in such a hurry?”
“To the weekly welcome,” Eliza says.
“It’s like a magical icebreaker for new arrivals,” Orion adds. “We have to hurry, or we’ll be late.”
“What? But I just got here,” I whisper, suddenly overwhelmed. “I’m not ready to meet people.”
Eliza flashes me a sad smile and gestures for us to follow Laurel. “Just stay calm and keep your head down until you get the lay of the land. Odds are you’ll be fine.”
I frown as we strike off across the lawn. “Odds are I’ll be fine? What happens if the odds are against me?”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Laurel’s sure strides force us to hurry after her, which I’m sure is by design. With her back straight and her long, silver hair and peasant skirt flowing behind her, she navigates our path like she owns the place.
On the other end of the spectrum, Eliza and Orion move with the coiled strength of predators. They don’t need to demand attention. They draw it with undeniable magnetism.
As we cross the grounds, the crystal-lit pathways undulate beneath my feet, pulsing with energy that seems to reach up through my sneakers.
With Laurel so far ahead of us, I hustle next to Orion and drop my voice. “Do you think being Zoe Hallowind’s daughter will be a problem for me here?”
Orion slows his pace and glances around to ensure our conversation is private. “For her entire life, your mother was a great and respected witch—an Emberwood Elite. But in the end, she broke favor with the Wiccan ways.”
“When she helped Sebastian, right?”
“How much do you know about that?”
“Nothing. He was the one who found me and brought me home. He removed the first block holding back my powers. Hesaid he’d gone to the coven for help about a serious problem with a tear in the veil, and they wouldn’t help him. He said my mother came to him later and agreed to help.”
Orion grabs my wrist and stops at an intersection of pathways, allowing three girls to merge onto our path and go ahead of us. When they’re a fair distance ahead, he continues. “The way the coven tells it, Zoe misused her gift and attempted to bridge the veil between life and death. Spirit magic is one thing, but necromancy is quite another. It is dark and dangerous. And as you know, it ended… badly.”
A chill races down my spine. “Is that how she died?”
“That’s the story as I know it.”
“But isn’t necromancy raising the dead to control them? I can’t imagine she would do that. From what I know of her, she was a strong and principled woman who believed in justice and equality.”
Orion looks around and then nods. “From what I know, she was all those things.”
“Then how can Laurel and the rest of the coven think that? They were friends. I know that from the pictures of her and the notes I found around the house.”
“I honestly don’t know, Pops. It’s a taboo subject. Nobody talks about it, so I can’t say what really happened or how your parents ended up dying.”
Not for the first time, I feel like life is stacked against me. The comfort I’d felt getting to know myself back at Hallowind House slips away, and I’m left feeling exposed and confused.
An outsider in my life.
The trees here are strange, ancient, and seem to have an energy all their own. Arching branches create the framework for the cathedral-like canopy above us.
All of it adds to the alien strangeness.
As we enter a round clearing, my stomach drops. There must be close to fifty students standing in a perfect circle around the perimeter. They’re all dressed in what I assume is the uniform for the training academy.
