It was about what came after him.
And standing there, between the man my father was and the man Caleb had become, I knew the next chapter of the clan’sstory was already being written—whether any of us were ready for it or not.
My dad peeled away from us with a quiet confidence that made my chest loosen just a little, already slipping into the role he’d spent a lifetime avoiding and yet somehow mastered the moment it mattered.
He moved toward Caleb and the other alphas, his voice calm, measured, carrying easily as he began discussing boundaries, old paths through the Wilds, places where the land could support packs without strain. I watched him for a moment, this version of him, unburdened, certain, unmistakablyright, and then forced myself to turn away before the ache behind my ribs had a chance to bloom into something distracting.
There was still too much to do.
The Academy ushered me back inside without ceremony, hallways unfolding in that subtle, intentional way that always made me feel as if I were being guided rather than directed.
The air shifted as I approached the auditorium, warmer, brighter, alive with a low thrumming awareness that set my magic humming in response. When I stepped through the doors, I found Lady Limora, Stella, and Nova already gathered around a massive table that definitely hadn’t been there earlier.
It wasn’t wood or stone, not exactly. It looked like a slice of night sky polished flat, its surface dark and glossy, threaded through with veins of silver and gold light that pulsed slowly, like a heartbeat. Above it hovered a three-dimensional map, shimmering into existence as I drew closer.
“Oh,” I breathed. “That’s… new.”
Nova glanced up, her eyes bright. “The Academy decided we needed a clearer picture.”
The map wasn’t of Stonewick alone. It stretched outward, forests and valleys unfolding in layers, the Wilds rendered in deep greens and blues, Shadowick lurking like a bruise at the edge of vision. And moving across it were points of light. Hundreds of them. Maybe more.
My stomach dropped.
“Those are the orcs,” Nova said quietly, answering the question I hadn’t yet voiced.
I leaned in closer, my gaze darting across the map as I tried to count.
“There’s… a lot,” I said, forcing a lightness I didn’t feel. “What are we thinking, a few hundred?”
Stella let out a sharp, humorless laugh and set her teacup down with more force than strictly necessary.
“Oh, sweetheart,” she said. “Try thousands.”
I stared at the map, my breath catching as the reality of it sank in. The points weren’t clustered tightly together, not an army in formation, but spread across multiple paths, converging slowly like tributaries feeding a river.
“Thousands,” I repeated faintly.
Twobble hopped up onto the edge of the table, peering down at the glowing dots with exaggerated squinting.
“Well,” he said brightly, “on the plus side, that explains why the ground’s been grumpy.”
Skonk immediately whapped him on the shoulder. “This isn’t the time.”
Twobble rubbed his arm and scowled. “I’m coping as best as I can. You do realize it would only take one foot, one step, tosquash a goblin like you or me, and don’t get me started on the boars.”
Ah, yes. The boars.
Despite myself, a shaky laugh escaped me, and I pressed my palms to the edge of the table, grounding myself in the cool, solid presence of the magic beneath it.
“This isn’t just a group seeking refuge,” I said slowly. “This is displacement on a massive scale.”
“Yes,” Nova agreed. “And it’s organized.”
Lady Limora straightened, folding her hands in front of her. “Which means it’s being influenced.”
My thoughts leapt immediately to my grandmother, to the Priestess and her careful manipulations, her talent for nudging the world until it fell exactly where she wanted it to. The idea of her welcoming thousands of orcs into Shadowick, offering them purpose or protection or power, made my blood run cold.
“I can’t let that happen,” I said quietly.
