One thought crashed through me so hard it nearly stopped my breathing.
Was this why the Priestess wanted me? It had nothing to do with the stone or her longevity. But because she knew I could open it.
My skin went cold as shadows along the walls moved faster now, but it didn’t feel frantic this time. It felt oddly welcoming.
“No,” I whispered.
Barlen looked miserable. “I warned you.”
“You didn’t warn me enough.” I took a step back and looked around the space. This Academy wanted to claim me.
“I tried!”
The runes along the corridor brightened at that moment…one after another.
The light rolled through the Academy, making the hair on my arms stand up beneath the cloak, and my mark pulsed violently, as if the Academy knew me.
Or thought it did.
And the Priestess had been waiting for that exact thing.
The realization crashed through me so hard I started backing away from the doors.
“Maeve,” Barlen said carefully.
“We need to leave.”
“Yes.” He stomped his foot again, which seemed to be a theme with him. “That’s what I’ve been saying all along.”
“Now.” It came out more of a whisper than I intended.
“YES.”
The shadows no longer felt merely curious. Instead, they were gathering, flowing down staircases, and slipping through walls toward the corridor where we stood. The air thickened with dust and old magic until every breath tasted thick with potential.
But I already had an Academy.
Another bell rang.
Closer.
The classroom doors behind me creaked open an inch.
I didn’t wait to see what was inside, so I hurried back down the corridor with Barlen, my boots slipping slightly in the dust as the Academy continued waking around us.
The giant entry doors remained open ahead, fog curling through them in pale ribbons. Relief surged through me at the sight.
The torches burst into flames along the walls in roaring waves, swallowing the shadows and revealing details I hadn’t seen before, like the banners hanging high above and the massive crest carved in the center of the balcony with roots wrapped around a star.
The Academy groaned deeply beneath our feet as the building shook, dust cascaded from the ceiling, and somewhere a door slammed.
And another…and then dozens.
My pulse thundered.
“Maeve,” Barlen whispered, genuine fear shaking his voice now. “Run.”
That was all the encouragement I needed as we bolted toward the entrance just as something moved along the upper balcony.
