I didn’t actually think that was the case this time. The Academy’s actions felt too definite, and if it didn’t want Gideon to leave, then it took matters into its own hands.
Twobble groaned. “I hate when buildings do this.”
I turned and started down the side corridor without waiting, trusting the Academy to guide us, or misguide us, as it saw fit. Footsteps followed behind me.
The halls ahead seemed cooperative enough at first. Lanterns lit in sequence. Doors stayed where they were supposed to. Even the air felt… accommodating.
Gideon walked silently beside me now, but his irritation simmered just beneath the surface. I could feel his annoyance. He wasn’t someone who accepted obstruction lightly, and the Academy’s interference was clearly testing the limits of his patience.
“This isn’t what I agreed to,” he said quietly.
“I know,” I replied.
“You’re telling me that wall wasn’t your doing?”
“It wasn’t me.”
He let out a breath. “Then your Academy is overstepping.”
I glanced at him. “It thinks it’s protecting something.”
“Or controlling it,” he shot back.
“Sometimes,” I said carefully, “those look the same from the inside.”
We reached a stairwell that spiraled down into shadows. It was the sort of wide, familiar path that led toward the outer halls, which eventually led toward the main doors.
For a brief, fragile moment, it felt like the Academy had relented.
“So,” Twobble said conversationally, hands clasped behind his head, “once Gideon hightails it out of here, do we think the walls will apologize or just pretend this never happened?”
The stairs vanished.
Vanished.
One moment, they were there, stone worn smooth by midlife students over the countless years, and the next, they were simply… not. Empty air yawned where they’d been, the corridor ending abruptly at a sheer drop that disappeared into nothing but softly glowing mist.
Bella yelped and stumbled back.
Lady Limora laughed outright. “Oh, that’s bold.”
Ardetia tilted her head, studying the empty space. “That is a firm no.”
I closed my eyes and let out a slow breath.
“The Academy really doesn’t want you leaving,” I said to Gideon.
He stared at the void and dragged a hand through his hair. “I’m starting to get that impression.”
The hum beneath our feet thrummed, deep and satisfied, as if the Academy itself had just crossed its arms.
And in that moment, with walls blocking us behind and nothing but absence ahead, it became painfully clear that this wasn’t about exits at all.
The Academy wasn’t done with Gideon.
Whether any of us liked it or not.
Chapter Sixteen
