My heart squeezed with something special as I scanned the large area, seeing witches hard at work.
Never did I think that we’d be scraping away fear and replacing it with hope and practicality so quickly. The orcs and shifters who had chosen, somehow, to stand with us instead of against us, and the students knew what that meant.
My chest tightened at the sight of it.
One student hurried past with flour-dusted cheeks. Another laughed behind me, and a goblin witch held up a small jar of honey, offering it to a nervous shifter waiting outside the door.
These looked like simple things, but they would change the course of the Academy.
And it looked like the Academy was letting it happen.
It felt as if this building approved, and it made me wonder about what was ahead, about letting the shifters and orcs roam these halls to learn our ways.
The craft of it all.
The front doors were open just enough to let crisp air pour in from outside, and beyond the barrier of the Butterfly Ward, faint, shimmering shapes moved. Orc shoulders like boulders and shifter silhouettes that kept shifting, never quite committing.
And the students kept moving too, arranging, delivering, and offering.
Someone had stationed a pair of kitchen sprites at the edge of the hall, moving back and forth with high speed and handing out cups of cider and tea to those in need.
“Maeve!”
Nova came at me like a storm in human form. She was usually so measured, controlled, and not a hugger. She crossed the hall in three long strides and wrapped me in an embrace so fierce it knocked the air out of my lungs.
I stiffened for a split second out of pure surprise, and quickly melted into it, because the truth was I hadn’t realized howbadly I needed to be held until someone did it without asking permission.
Nova smelled like rosemary, smoke, and old paper.
Her arms tightened around me for a second.
That was when I felt it—the weight behind the hug.
Nova didn’t hug people unless something was wrong.
I pulled back a little so I could see her face.
Her eyes were bright—too bright. Her mouth was trying for a smile and not quite landing it.
“I’m so sorry, Hedge Witch.” Nova ran her fingers along my hair as if assessing my state of mind by hairstyle.
Before I could answer, Ardetia appeared at my side, but she didn’t rush the way Nova had. She simply arrived, quiet and certain, but her arms wrapped around me.”
“You’re back,” she said softly. “I’m just…so sorry.”
“Thank you.”
“How are you managing?”
“I’m not sure,” I admitted.
“Good.” Nova patted my shoulder. “Honesty is everything in moments like this.”
My eyes stung again, but I blinked the tears away.
“You look like you’re holding yourself together too tightly,” Ardetia observed.
Nova made a sound beside us, something between a snort and a sigh.
