“Then we do it your way,” Keegan said, and the iron in his voice was the nicest thing I’d heard in days.
Twobble hopped down from his stool and clapped his hands. “Team meeting! Battle snacks! Maybe we should find Lady Limora and her crew.”
“First, we set our board,” Nova said
Ardetia nodded. “I’ll walk the lines. Fae see edges where clouds think they’re whole.”
Bella flashed teeth, pure fox. “I’ll set decoys along the south fence. If Shadowick even breathes here, we’ll know.”
Stella gathered cups onto her tray like a general collecting small, porcelain soldiers. “And I’ll brew until the kettle begs for mercy.”
I blew out a breath and smiled. This moment felt both full and unknown. Summer was ending, but my grandmother was no longer waiting at the Academy. Her sacrifice edged every single thought and move I made over the last several weeks.
My mom and Keegan’s mom were back in Stonewick. My dad had the choice to move between a bulldog and a man. The Academy bustled with midlife witches, magical creatures, and familiars. My heart had broken into a million pieces and stitched back together again. My worries over Keegan making it from one day to the next never stopped.
But those words he said lodged deep in my heart.
They meant something.
However, there was never enough time to truly soak in the successes and feel settled. The silence outside felt less like a trap and more like a challenge. Shadowick could send letters scented with old iron and thorned symbols without us even mildly aware. We had tea, goblins, fae, a fox with mischief to spare, a haunt with a sense of humor, gargoyles with perfect timing, and a wolf who loved me enough to let me choose.
The last of the summer students drifted past the windows, arm in arm, already making plans for when they returned.
“We do need to prepare for these breaks and utilize what we have while the students are away and before they return,” I said, glancing outside.
Somewhere above us, a gargoyle shifted on the roof. Outside, the butterflies changed flight. A new season was close.
“Tea first,” Stella decreed, sweeping toward the door. “War after.”
“Add biscuits,” Twobble said.
“Add courage,” Nova murmured.
“Add me,” Keegan said, fingers finding mine, warm and sure.
“Add all of us,” Bella chimed.
Ardetia’s smile deepened a fraction. “Add caution.”
“And glitter bombs,” Ember added, pragmatic as ever.
I lifted my cup, mismatched and warm, to our little found family under a roof that creaked when it was happy and sighed when it was scared. If Gideon wanted silence to work for him, he should have picked a different town.
“Welcome to the end of summer,” I said. “Let’s make it interesting.”
Chapter Two
The bell above the Academy’s front doors had resigned itself to constant chiming, the sort of polite farewell that tried not to sound relieved. Suitcases rattled like a chorus of mismatched snare drums, and the last stream of summer students rolled down the marble steps in a flurry of scarves, enchanted tote bags, and promises to write. A charmed fern waved its fronds as if signing yearbooks. Someone’s kettle whistled from inside a trunk, which felt very on brand.
I stood with my back against a cool pillar and watched it all, feeling both too full and not full at all, like I’d eaten an entire pie made of nostalgia and nerves. The lamplight threw honeyed squares across the foyer. Dust motes drifted like shy stars. The Academy hummed under my boots, tired and pleased, as if it had hosted a long holiday and was ready to unbutton the top clasp of its corset.
Beside me, Keegan was a quiet wall of warmth. He hadn’t shaved in two days, which the universe had clearly custom-ordered just to see what I’d do with that information. His shoulders were broad and steady under a soft gray shirt that had a stubborn crease near the collar. He watched the procession with a wolf’s attention and a man’s patience, jaw working like he was chewing on thoughts he didn’t want to swallow.
“Hard to believe we made it to the end of the term,” he said, voice low enough that it didn’t disturb the last group hugging in a heap beneath the chandelier.
“Hard to believe we made it past Malore,” I answered, because some truths deserve to be spoken out loud so the walls can agree with you.
His mouth tugged at one corner. “That, too.”
