“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one I have.” He shrugged. “They’re exactly what you see. Shadows.”
I frowned at him. “You’ve lived here for over a century. You know more than you’re letting on.”
His tiny paws immediately flew to his satchel. “I never said over a century.”
“You implied it aggressively.”
“I implied nothing.” He scowled and turned to ignore me.
“Barlen.” I touched his shoulder, and he turned back to face me. “What’s wrong with having lived here for over a century?”
He sighed dramatically. “Time behaves differently in Shadowick. Because it’s been nearly two centuries.”
“Wow.”
He lifted his chin. “And that was exactly the reaction I was trying to avoid.”
I nodded and started toward the long corridor, my boots disturbing thick dust as I walked. The sound echoed farther than it should have, bouncing down the hallway in soft rhythmic taps that reminded me unpleasantly of someone following half a step behind.
There were runes covering the walls here…thousands of them.
Some etched deep into the stone while others glimmered faintly beneath layers of soot. The farther we moved into the Academy, the more they appeared, winding around doorframesand curling beneath windows like vines carved directly into the architecture.
I slowed near one section where the runes had cracked apart. I studied the opening and noticed burn marks streaked the wall around it. Whatever was hot enough to do that wasn’t a typical torch. It had to have been magic.
The shadow mark on my shoulder throbbed sharply as I reached toward the broken symbols, and the second that my fingers brushed the wall, a rush of sound exploded through me.
Hedge magic.
Students shouted insistently in the halls as bells rang frantically. I could hear glass breaking and someone yelling torun.
I stumbled backward with a gasp, pulling myself out of the Hedge.
Barlen caught my elbow before I hit the floor.
“It’s wise to leave the damaged runes alone,” he hissed.
“Things to mention before I touch them.” My heart hammered violently against my ribs. “What happened here?”
He glanced down the corridor uneasily. “People stopped agreeing.”
“That is an incredibly vague explanation for magical destruction.”
“Yes, well.” His whiskers twitched. “History becomes difficult when most of the historians are dead.”
That shut me up.
For approximately three seconds.
“Was the Priestess here when it happened?”
Barlen went pale beneath his fur.
The shadows along the walls stirred.
“You should not ask that inside the Academy.”
