Chapter One
The Academy doors were open before I’d even asked them to be. It was as if this place knew midlife students were on the way. And who was I fooling? Of course it did. Many had already arrived before we’d left to confront the orcs, but now, the doors were officially open for autumn.
Morning light spilled across the stone threshold in a wide, welcoming band, warming the foyer in a way that felt nearly ceremonial. Fall was my favorite time of year, and this morning gave me a few minutes of reprieve as I admired the curling vines along the archway that had loosened their tight, inward curl and were stretching outward again, green and silver-veined, as if satisfied with whatever decision had been made overnight.
However, it was too bad nobody told me what that decision was, because life felt like a lot, and the choices we would be facing were even more. But I watched students drift in twos and threes up the steps and through the doors, and I knew without a doubt, this was where I was meant to be.
Some midlife students returned with confidence, laughing loudly, suitcases bumping against their knees, and cloaks slung over their shoulders as if they’d never left. I knew I would need to count on them with what was ahead.
But there were plenty of others who hovered just beyond the threshold. They’d blink up at the gold pillars and floating orbs as if they’d stepped into a dream they weren’t sure they were allowed inside of, and I remembered that feeling like it was yesterday. The Academy’s beauty would even make the enemy pause to take it all in.
The Academy hummed beneath my boots as if to agree with me, and I took this moment in.
“Name?” Twobble barked from behind a small table.
He stood on a stack of books to reach eye level, and the woman standing directly in front of him looked extremely nervous, clutching a carpetbag.
She blinked down at him. “Um. Matale Lonton.”
“Spell specialty?”
“I— I don’t know yet.”
He narrowed his eyes as if this were personally offensive. “Suspicious.”
Behind him, Skonk was attempting to hand out packets with all the quiet efficiency of someone who had already accepted that the day wouldn’t go according to plan.
“Twobble,” I called gently.
He didn’t look at me. “I’m vetting.”
“You’re interrogating,” I warned.
“Fine line.” He shrugged. “You know the dangers that lurk. We’re in terrible times.”
Matale gasped, and her eyes darted to me, silently pleading. “Terrible times?”
“No, not terrible. Just a transitioning time…a little more complex than usual, but you’re welcome here,” I said, stepping closer. “We figure out specialties and learn together.”
Her shoulders lowered an inch, and she wandered away.
Twobble sniffed. “I prefer fully educated. Less paperwork.”
“Since when do you do paperwork?” My brows lifted.
“I supervise paperwork,” he corrected loftily.
“Let’s try not to terrify the new students, okay?” I teased.
I spotted something pink on his shoulder. “Twobble, what is that on your shoulder?”
“No comment.”
“It looks like…a snail.”
My brow lifted. “With a horn.”
“I missed the toad,” he announced.
