But the Academy was apparently built for secrets, and when we climbed the steps and entered, I knew something was stewing.
The next wave of new students arrived, and the Academy watched. The sconces brightened, dimmed, and brightened again as if the Academy couldn’t decide whether it was delighted or offended by the audacity of all these midlife women hauling suitcases up its steps in one big rush.
Regardless of what just went down at the Hollows or what was arriving next to greet the orcs, we had an Academy to run, and the fall semester didn’t wait for anyone.
I glanced around to see the returning midlife witches, catching up with friends, and the new students trying to make their way to the front.
And one thing I noticed was that midlife witches often had a particular kind of energy. They were determined, maybe a little tired, and completely unimpressed by unneeded drama. And somehow, they were always wildly prepared in the most chaotic ways.
“Welcome to the Academy,” Twobble called, projecting far better than his size suggested. “If you’re new to the Academy, I need your name, magical leaning, and whether you’ve ever accidentally summoned anything with antlers, fangs, or things with scales.”
A woman in a wool cape paused mid-step. “Fangs?”
“It happens more than you’d think,” Twobble said briskly. “We don’t judge here. We just prepare. “
“Beginners to the left. Returning students to the right. If you’re unsure what you are, stand in the middle and look confident. It works surprisingly well.”
A tall woman raised her hand. “I did the Yule workshop online, but I wasn’t here last year. Does that count as returning?”
Twobble narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “Did you set your curtains on fire?”
“No.”
“Then yes. I’d say you’re returning. Most beginning students can’t make it through that.”
I let out a sigh as Keegan held my hand. We would get through this. All of this. The new students. Getting the orcs back to their homes. The shifters back where they wanted to be. All of it.
But I knew that the central issue revolved around the Priestess.
My mother hadn’t wanted to talk about her mom growing up. Heck, my mom didn’t even want to acknowledge that magic existed.
But now my mom was willing to stand beside me and my dad as the world cracked and demanded choices. They’d both walkedinto danger because I was their daughter and because they loved me. But love didn’t automatically turn into truth.
And I needed truth.
I needed to know who the Priestess had been before she became the kind of threat that displaced entire magical populations. I needed to know what my mother knew. What she’d been hiding. What she’d been trying to outrun.
Chapter Four
I flashed a smile at Twobble.
He stared at my lips as if I’d personally betrayed him. “Maeve. Don’t do that. I recognize that look.”
“What look?”
“The ‘I’m about to delegate something unpleasant’ look.” He clutched his clipboard tighter. “Also, I’m hungry. I require nourishment to function.”
I glanced around the Academy and brought my gaze back to his. There was something just so wonderful about being around Twobble. It was like all that mattered in the world were pastries, tea, and more pastries.
“How many scones have you eaten this morning?”
“That feels like an accusation.” His ears twitched.
“It is.”
He sighed dramatically. “Four. Possibly five. One may have been communal.”
“Lunch is soon,” I said. “I’m not abandoning you, but I’m delegating. It’s your job to keep the students from blowing anything up.”
