Concern or maybe something closer to warning.
“I understand your urgency,” he said, his voice steady. “But Shadowick is already shifting. If the Priestess is preparing the dungeons, she’s preparing for more than one move.”
I nodded, even as that sick feeling settled deeper in my stomach.
“I know,” I said quietly.
And that was the problem.
I knew exactly what she was capable of.
And I knew I was running out of time to stop her.
Chapter Three
I should have felt vindicated as Twobble carried a platter of lavender cream cheese pastries into the Academy’s banquet hall, as if conquering a baking spell was all my new world asked of me. After all, I’d even managed with Keegan and Twobble’s help to multiply the pastries. Instead, I felt like my life was balancing on a tightrope that was about to be severed.
A sea of new witches wandered through the banquet hall as I spotted Stella, Nova, Bella, and Ardetia eagerly chatting with them. I saw Lady Limora, Vivienne, Opal, and Mara gathered near some of the vampire witches in the corner, and I reminded myself that this was what it was all about.
Community and strength.
Petrah Lineo, Lemonia Prose, and Lainsley Turnel, some of our newer professors, were huddled near the buffet table where Twobble, Keegan, and I went to put down the platter of pastries.
My dad came over, and I gave him a quick hug.
His arms wrapped around me, solid and warm, and for a moment, I let myself lean into it, breathing in that familiar comfort.
“You look tired,” he said quietly, pulling back just enough to study my face.
“I made pastries,” I replied, as if that explained everything. “Using magic.”
He let out a small laugh. “That’ll do it.”
Twobble puffed up beside us, already reaching for one of the pastries like he hadn’t just carried them across the entire Academy with the pride of a royal procession.
“They’re flawless,” he announced, popping one into his mouth before anyone could argue otherwise. “A masterpiece. A triumph. A moment that will be written into goblin history. My mom will be proud.”
Keegan shook his head under his breath as he reached for a plate. “You ate more before anyone else tried them?”
“I was ensuring quality.”
Keegan winked at the goblin. “You were ensuring you got the first one.”
Twobble waved him off. “Leadership requires sacrifice.”
I smiled despite myself and turned slightly as Petrah Lineo approached, her ivy-trimmed hat tilted just so, her gaze landing on the pastries with immediate interest.
“Are these the lavender ones I’ve heard whispers about already?” she asked.
“They are,” I said, gesturing toward the platter. “And they didn’t explode.”
“No, they just caught on fire,” Twobble quipped.
Lemonia Prose stepped closer, her fingers still faintly ink-stained as she adjusted her glasses. “That’s promising.”
“But they are perfection.” Twobble grinned.
“That’s the highest compliment I’ve received all day,” I admitted, trying to keep the lightness in my voice as I glanced around the room again, because it mattered. This gathering mattered. These women were stepping into something new, something uncertain, and trusting us to guide them, to teach them, to keep them safe.
