Celeste chewed on that, absently tearing off another piece of scone. “That doesn’t make him safe.”
“No,” I agreed. “It doesn’t.”
Her eyes searched mine. “You’re worried.”
“Yes,” I said simply.
She nodded, relieved at the honesty. “He’s ruthless.”
The word echoed through the quiet room.
“He is,” I agreed.
Celeste sighed and leaned back against the sofa, staring up at the ceiling. “I don’t like that he’s here.”
“Neither do I,” I admitted. “Not like this. Not without answers.”
The Academy hummed faintly around us, as if listening but not intervening, its presence steady and inscrutable.
We sat there for a few more moments, the calm stretching just long enough for me to almost believe it might last.
But then our world shattered. The explosion came from within the Academy, a thunderous crack that ripped through the stone and sent a violent shudder through the floor beneath our feet.
The walls trembled with a shockwave of sound, while pressure tore through the sitting room, rattling shelves and sending cups clattering.
Celeste gasped as the windows flared with light.
I was on my feet instantly, heart slamming against my ribs, magic surging in response before I even thought to call it.
Somewhere in the distance, stone groaned.
And whatever fragile peace the morning had offered was gone in an instant.
The sound of the explosion was still echoing through the Academy when instinct finally kicked in.
“Celeste,” I said sharply, already moving. “Under the table. Now.”
She didn’t argue. That alone told me how serious this was. She ducked beneath the heavy oak table near the hearth, curling in tight as I swept the chair aside and crouched with her long enough to meet her eyes.
“Stay here,” I said, keeping my voice calm even as my pulse thundered. “No matter what.”
She nodded, jaw set, fear flickering but contained. Brave. She was always brave.
I straightened just as Twobble came barreling into the sitting room, nearly tripping over the edge of the rug.
“Explosion,” he panted unnecessarily. “Big one. Very uninvited.”
“Twobble,” I said, catching his sleeve. “Stay with her. Don’t let her out of your sight.”
His usual flippancy vanished instantly. He puffed himself up, planting his feet wide.
“On it. Nobody’s getting past me. Not shadowy villains, not magical debris, and certainly not emotionally compromised ex-anythings.”
Crap. That was right. My ex was still here.
Celeste snorted despite herself, and I was ever indebted to Twobble.
I turned and ran for the foyer, magic buzzing just beneath my skin, the Academy’s hum fractured and uneven now, like a heartbeat that couldn’t find its rhythm. The air smelled of dust and scorched stone.
