The shadows weren’t becoming more wicked from her power, but something was happening as we watched her magic slide into them. The shadows curled and twisted, devouring the darkness she offered and reshaping it into something almost beautiful as flecks of light bounced between the Priestess and the shadows.
“No,” she whispered.
Her voice was different that time…smaller.
The shadows rose higher, circling around her waist now, and whispers filled the Academy. They didn’t come in one voice, but many. Some sounded old and brittle. Some young. Some angry. Some heartbroken. The shadows had voices.
The Priestess’ face twisted with fury. “I gave you purpose.”
The shadows tightened around her as a tremor ran through the walls.
Barlen stepped closer to me, and I felt him shaking. “They’re speaking.”
“We’re going to be okay,” I whispered, hoping that was true.
The Priestess slashed her hand through the air, sending a blade of dark magic toward the shadows. They split apart before it touched them, opening like a curtain.
The magic struck the stone behind them instead. The impact cracked the archway above the entrance, sending dust and pebbles skittering across the floor.
The Academy groaned, but it didn’t seem to be from pain…Perhaps irritation?
I was surprised I could feel it.
“Enough,” my grandmother hollered.
The shadows recoiled for only a breath before surging toward her again.
This time, they wrapped around the dark magic still clinging to her arms and pulled, sucking every bit of darkness they could.
“Whoa,” Barlen whispered as the Priestess staggered.
Her eyes widened as sheets of black energy peeled away from her skin and slid into the shadows gathering around her. The more they fed, the more they glimmered. Silver threads appeared inside them, faint at first, then brighter, like moonlight caught inside ink.
“You cannot take what is mine,” she snarled.
Mine.
The word rolled through the hall and hit the walls with such force that several lanterns flickered.
The shadows answered at once.
Never yours.
The Priestess’ expression shifted again, and this time I saw it clearly.
Fear.
It was there and gone quickly, buried beneath fury and pride, but I’d seen it. So had Barlen, judging by the way his hand slipped from my sleeve.
He stared at the woman who had ruled over Shadowick as if he were seeing her for the first time.
The shadows brushed against her cheek, and she jerked back as though they’d burned her.
“These shadows don’t belong to you,” I told her. “And neither does this Academy or village. You can’t own magic.”
“But I can control it,” she barked back.
A low whisper curled through the air.
