And the Priestess would never need to step inside Stonewick to benefit from it.
“I’ll cover it,” I said. “I have two goblins who are foraging experts. They’ll provide enough for the elders if you allow the shifters to have this for the mother and pups this time. I’ll send for them immediately.”
All three of them looked at me.
“No one goes without because of a misunderstanding. We’ll allocate the appropriate resources, but this must be communicated to the Academy staff. If we don’t know of the struggles, we can’t help.”
The goblin blinked rapidly. “That’s not protocol.”
“Then we adjust,” I replied. “Every life is important.”
The shifter’s shoulders dropped just enough to show the edge of relief he was fighting not to display.
“And we establish a shared medical ledger,” I added, thinking quickly now. “We’ll have transparent inventory and contributions from all sides. I’m sure we have some orcs who can also help forage, if the goblins will allow them below.”
“Fine.” The goblin eyed me. “Skonk and Twobble will follow through. This I know. Send them to me, and I’ll take their help.”
Keegan stepped closer to the shifter. “I’ll go with you. I’ll ensure the pups and mother receive the medicine.”
But I knew he also wanted to see exactly what was happening in the Wilds that Caleb hadn’t mentioned to us.
The shifter looked startled. “You don’t have to.”
“I’m not offering out of obligation. I want to help.”
As Keegan and the shifter walked toward the alleyway leading to the Butterfly Ward, I watched as Keegan shifted. It wasn’t dramatic or for display. It was just someone who knew exactly where his bones belonged.
This wasn’t a crisis yet, but it was a warning, and if I didn’t move quickly…if I didn’t create structure before suspicion hardened, no amount of speeches inside the Academy would matter.
We wouldn’t be divided by force.
We would divide ourselves, and that was a victory I refused to hand her.
“I’m going to gather the witches,” I told Stella.
“I’ll get the other vampires. They work quickly with spreading the word.” Stella’s scarlet lips curved slightly. “But dear, try not to start a revolution without eating first.”
“I ate,” I said automatically.
“You drank tea,” she countered. “Tea isn’t food. It’s a coping mechanism. The sprites reported to me that you left the bread, cheese, and salami I’d ordered for you mostly untouched.”
“You have the kitchen sprites spying on me?”
Her eyes twinkled. “And the book sprites.”
I smiled and oddly felt better with that knowledge.
The walk back to the Academy should’ve been calming. The path through the Butterfly Ward usually settled me, even when the world was unraveling at the seams. Today, it only made my thoughts louder, because each step gave them room to keep listing the ways this could go wrong.
By the time the Academy came into view through the trees, the front steps were busy again, but not with conflict this time… thank goodness.
But with the quiet bustle of midlife witches coming and going. A few students lingered near the doors, their voices low, their eyes tracking the tree line a little too often. Someone had brought a bundle of wildflowers and tucked them into a crack in the stone.
Inside, the entry hall was louder than before, with voices echoing and suitcases thumping.
Twobble spotted me immediately, and my heart clenched. There was something about that little guy that just made me happy.
He was perched on a stool near the staircase with the tea-shop-menu clipboard balanced on his knees, and he looked like a goblin on a mission.
