Gideon met my gaze with an unreadable expression flickering in his eyes. Gratitude, irritation, or the realization that he’d lost more control than he cared to admit.
But the Academy hummed, satisfied, and for the moment, that was the best I could hope for.
Chapter Eighteen
We stood together at the threshold as Gideon was led out of the Academy, and for the first time since morning, nothing fought us.
No walls slammed down, and no stairs vanished.
The massive doors opened smoothly, sunlight spilling across the stone floor in a wide, welcoming swath, and Gideon stepped through them without resistance. Skonk followed several paces behind, muttering under his breath, while Ardetia moved with calm purpose at his side, her presence quiet but unmistakably firm.
I watched Gideon’s back as he crossed the courtyard, half expecting the Academy to change its mind at the last second, to yank him back with some dramatic display of ancient will. But it didn’t. The doors remained open. The air stayed still.
The Academy had agreed.
For now.
“Well,” I murmured, mostly to myself, “that went better than expected.”
“Better,” Keegan agreed. “But not finished.”
“No,” I said. “I keep wondering how long it’ll stay agreeable.”
He glanced down at me, something thoughtful in his expression.
“Long enough for you to breathe, at least.”
That mattered more than he knew.
“Long enough for Celeste.”
We turned back inside together, the doors closing gently behind us, the Academy settling into a quieter rhythm now that its chosen problem had been relocated rather than expelled. I felt the building’s awareness linger, patient and watchful as the Academy’s magic rebuilt its steps and cleaned up the rubble as if nothing had just happened.
Keegan followed me to the sitting room, where I could already hear Twobble’s voice rising and falling as he recounted the explosion for the third time, each version somehow involving more dramatic personal heroics.
Celeste was perched on the edge of the sofa when we entered, her knees drawn up, while Twobble stood guard like a very short, very opinionated sentry.
She looked up the moment she saw me.
I crossed the room in two strides and pulled her into my arms, holding her tightly, my cheek pressed to her hair. She hugged me back just as fiercely, and for a moment, the world narrowed to the steady beat of her heart against mine.
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “I should’ve done that from the get-go. I shouldn’t have let it get that far. I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me to try to negotiate with the Academy.”
She pulled back just enough to look at me. “Mom, you handled it.”
“I still should’ve handled it sooner,” I said. “Your well-being is the most important thing.”
Her expression softened, and she leaned back into me. “I know.”
Twobble cleared his throat loudly. “For the record, I was prepared to bite someone. I was hoping it would be your ex, but…”
I smiled despite everything. “I never doubted that.”
Keegan lingered by the doorway, giving us space without leaving, and I felt a deep, aching gratitude for the way he always seemed to know where to stand.
As the adrenaline finally drained away, something else took its place…resolve.
“I’m done,” I said aloud, surprising myself with how certain it sounded. “At least for today.”
