“Well, that certainly sounds creepy enough to me,” Twobble said, shivering, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
Keegan came to my side again, his hand brushing mine, his presence reassuring in its new, unburdened calm. “Ready?”
I looked once more at the clearing, at the mushrooms fading into dormancy, at Gideon being helped to his feet by Bella and Ardetia, at my parents standing close behind me.
“Yes,” I said.
The stars glittered above us, the night peaceful in a way it hadn’t been in a very long time. As we turned toward the path leading back to the Academy, I felt the school’s pull, gentle, patient, and insistent.
Whatever came next, Stonewick wasn’t done with us.
And neither was I.
The question hovered long after the Wilds released us.
The thought followed us back toward the Academy, winding between footsteps and half-spoken reassurances, settling into the quiet spaces no one else seemed ready to fill.
Gideon walked a little apart from the rest of us, supported loosely by Bella and Ardetia, his movements careful, like someone learning the shape of his body again. He didn’t look dangerous now. That, somehow, made everything worse.
I watched him without meaning to.
The way his shoulders no longer carried that sharp, coiled readiness. The way his gaze kept drifting upward, as if the sky had taken something with it and he wasn’t sure how to stand without the weight. He looked… unmoored.
And the Academy noticed.
Its doors glowed faintly as we approached, lantern-light spilling across the stone path. The charms murmured softly in curiosity. They brushed against us one by one, reading, adjusting, acknowledging the shift that had taken place in the Wilds. But when they brushed Gideon, the hum changed. It didn’t reject him, but it wasn’t welcoming. It was…assessing.
I slowed, and Keegan noticed immediately. He always did.
“What is it?” he asked quietly.
I hesitated, my thoughts knotting together.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I just… I don’t know what we do with him now.”
Ahead of us, my dad paused, clearly hearing enough to catch the weight of the question. Stella stopped outright, turning slowly, her expression churning with interest that quickly hardened into something more dangerous.
“Oh no,” she said. “We are not doing anything foolish while I’m still upright.”
Twobble perked up. “Is this the part where someone suggests a bad idea, and we all agree in unison like dump him off in Shadowick with a giant red bow?”
“I suspect Maeve is about to surprise us.” Stella’s right brow lifted.
Every eye turned to me.
Gideon stopped too, finally looking directly at me, something wary flickering behind his calm. He didn’t speak. He didn’t plead. He simply waited, which somehow felt like pressure.
“I think,” I began slowly, choosing each word with care, “that he should stay in the Academy tonight.”
The silence that followed wasn’t gentle.
“No,” Stella said flatly.
“Absolutely not,” my dad added.
Twobble gasped. “The traitor? The maniac? The former shadow enthusiast?”
Keegan stiffened beside me, the air around him tightening just a fraction.
