“At the right time,” he said carefully, “I will return. I will come back for what is mine.”
The words prickled along my skin.
What does he think is his?.
Behind me, Keegan moved.
I felt it before I saw it. The shift in the air, the subtle grip of magic as Keegan stepped past me, putting himself between Gideon and the rest of us without a word. His shoulders squared, his presence unmistakable.
“For what’s yours,” Keegan repeated quietly.
Gideon’s gaze slid to him, and something unreadable passed between them. The old history traded between them where serious damage and old lines were drawn deep.
“I’m not talking about her,” Gideon said after a beat.
Keegan didn’t relax. “You don’t get to decide how that sounds.”
“Enough,” I said, louder than I intended, but not apologizing for it. “All of you.”
The Academy hummed, attentive.
“Gideon,” I continued, meeting his eyes, “you don’t get to speak in riddles and expect us to trust your intentions.”
“And you don’t get to assume the worst and call it caution,” he replied.
“I absolutely do,” I shot back. “Especially when the stakes include my daughter, my town, and people you’ve already hurt.”
Twobble nodded vigorously. “She does. It’s very much her thing.”
For a moment, Gideon looked like he might argue. It was like the old version of him, the one who thrived on conflict and control, flared to life, ready to bare his teeth.
Instead, he exhaled.
“This isn’t a power play,” he said. “It’s a warning.”
“Then say it plainly,” I challenged.
His jaw tensed. “If I say it aloud, I give it shape.”
“That didn’t stop you from invading my dreams,” I said quietly.
That landed.
Keegan sucked in, and the corridor went still, even the Academy’s hum dipped lower, like it was listening harder.
Gideon studied me, and for the first time since I’d found him in the classroom, I saw something like doubt flicker across his face.
“That,” he said slowly, “wasn’t supposed to happen the way it did.”
Keegan moved again, just enough to remind him he wasn’t alone in this space.
I crossed my arms, grounding myself.
“You want to leave. The Academy won’t let you. Twobble wants proof you’re not going to hurt anyone. And I want the truth.”
Gideon’s mouth curved faintly. “You always did.”
The Academy thrummed, patient and immovable, walls still sealed, stairs still absent, corridors refusing to cooperate.
