Bearly Bewitched (Mystic Hollow #4)

Chapter 2

TWO

S omething in her tone made Vail turn. “What is it?”

Sabine fidgeted with her sleeve, an oddly uncertain gesture for someone usually so composed. “I know you’re looking for teachers who understand both witch and shifter magic. And given my... unique situation...”

“Yes!” Vail barely restrained herself from hugging her friend again. “Sabine, you’d be perfect! You have centuries of magical knowledge from your past life, plus firsthand experience as a shifter. Please say you’ll consider it?”

“I’d love to,” Sabine replied, “but I haven’t mentioned it to Ren yet for his thoughts.”

“You two work on it and get back to me. Thank you so much.” Vail squeezed her hand. “No pressure, but you’d be an incredible addition to the faculty.”

“Speaking of additions,” Romi cut in, “don’t forget girls’ night and wedding talk. No excuses, Vail—you’re not getting out of bridesmaid duties just because you’re a fancy headmistress now.”

“As if you’d let me.” Vail laughed. “I’ll be there. Assuming the academy doesn’t implode before then.”

“It won’t,” Clover assured her. “Not with you in charge.”

Vail glanced at her great-aunts, hoping for a rescue from all the emotional support, but found only proud, knowing smiles. “Fine,” she conceded. “Let’s head over there. But no more matchmaking schemes.”

“Of course not,” Clover said solemnly, though her eyes said otherwise.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Romi agreed far too innocently.

“Absolutely not,” Sabine’s straight face lasted approximately two seconds before she cracked a grin.

Madame Zephyrine rose gracefully, adjusting her flowing sleeves. “We’ll accompany you as well. As former teachers, our presence might smooth any... territorial reactions from the older staff members.”

As they gathered their things, Vail caught snippets of whispered conversation between her friends:

“Wait until she sees?—“

“Shh! Don’t spoil it!”

“I give it a week before?—“

“Three days, tops.”

“I can hear you,” Vail called out, making them all laugh.

She shook her head, drawing on her fire magic to center herself. Warmth tingled through her fingers, no longer constrained by the need to hide. Whatever her well-meaning friends and relatives had planned, she wouldn’t let it distract her. Arcane Academy needed a leader who could bridge the gap between witches and shifters, someone dedicated to bringing out the best in every student.

Romance could wait. She had magic to teach, barriers to break down, and a school to run.

The late summer breeze carried hints of wild magic as they made their way up the winding path toward the academy. Centuries-old oaks lined the route, their leaves whispering secrets in a language only the oldest witches could understand. Vail noticed how the branches seemed to reach toward her as she passed, responding to her magic.

“The trees remember you from your student days,” Neve observed with a smile, reaching out to touch one gnarled trunk. “Oak has such a long memory.”

“Unlike certain students who forgot their levitation homework,” Romi teased. “Remember that time you accidentally set Professor Changly’s hat on fire during finals?”

Heat crept up Vail’s neck. “It was entirely your fault for making me laugh during fire-control practice.”

“To be fair,” Clover interjected, “the hat was hideous. You did her a favor.”

“The purple feathers were a bit much,” Sabine agreed. “Though not as bad as that time Romi turned all the classroom chairs into toadstools.”

“They were very comfortable toadstools!” Romi protested.

Their laughter echoed across the grounds as they approached the academy’s impressive facade. Sunlight glinted off the enchanted windows, each pane subtly rippling with protective spells that cast rainbow shadows on the weathered stone. The walls rose majestically, humming with centuries of accumulated magic that made Vail’s skin tingle.

She paused at the threshold, drinking in the sight. How many times had she crossed these steps as a student? As a teacher? Now she stood here as headmistress, responsible for every spell, every ward, every student who would pass through these halls.

The weight of that responsibility settled around her shoulders like a familiar cloak, heavy but not unwelcome. This was what she’d worked for, what she’d sacrificed for. This was where she belonged.

As soon as she stepped into the foyer, a massive marble statue—one of the academy’s traditional greeting guardians—creaked to life. It began its ceremonial bow, then lurched forward with an ominous grinding sound that echoed off the vaulted ceiling.

Vail’s hands moved instinctively, fire magic merging seamlessly with a stabilizing ward. “ Stabilitas Anchor ,” she commanded, her voice ringing with authority. Golden light wrapped around the statue, freezing it mid-fall.

“Brilliantly done.” Madame Zephyrine clapped in delight.

“Your spell work has improved considerably,” Neve noted, examining the glowing strands of magic with obvious pride.

Vail frowned, tracing the magical frequencies that should have prevented the malfunction in the first place. “The academy’s internal wards usually regulate these statues perfectly. See how the base signatures are fluctuating?” She pointed to where golden threads of magic sparked and sputtered. “Something’s interfering with the standard maintenance protocols.”

Sabine moved closer, her unique magical signature - part ancestral witchcraft, part wild shifter energy adding another layer of perception. “You’re right. The magical current feels... stuttered like it’s hitting resistance at odd intervals.” She cocked her head, reminding Vail distinctly of her tigress form. “Almost like someone’s been tampering with them.”

“Tampering?” Clover’s earth magic stirred, making nearby potted plants rustle. “That’s concerning.”

“Which is exactly why the academy needs you,” Romi said. “You understand both the traditional systems and modern magical theory. Plus, you’re not afraid to question things that don’t work anymore.”

“Unlike some people,” Sabine muttered, then quickly added, “Not that I’m naming names.”

Vail spent several moments recalibrating the statue’s enchantments, explaining the process to her attentive audience. “The ward system here is actually quite brilliant. It works in layers—perimeter shields against hostile magic, recognition charms for students and staff, even subtle enchantments that help guide lost first-years to their classes.”

With a precise flick of her wrist, she reactivated the statue’s greeting protocol. The marble figure straightened, bowed with perfect form, and intoned, “Welcome to Arcane Academy, where magical excellence meets modern innovation.”

“You updated the greeting!” Clover noticed, beaming.

“Small changes first,” Vail said, leading them deeper into the academy. “I’ve already requested some changes be made before the term starts. I hope they’ve been done. Speaking of changes?—“

She broke off as they entered the grand corridor where several staircases were performing their usual gravity-defying dance. One flight rotated smoothly, bringing them to their intended floor with such perfect timing that Romi squealed in delight.

“The stairs still recognize magical signatures,” Vail explained, running her hand along the polished banister. Warmth pulsed beneath her palm, her magical essence bridging worlds old and new. “But I’m working on expanding that recognition to include shifter auras. That way, when bear shifters or tigress shifters enroll, the academy itself will adapt to their needs.”

“Like it did for me?” Sabine asked softly, her own hand ghosting over the banister. “I was the first shifter with so much magic, it seemed to confuse everyone. Those were some strange times. I remember how the stairs seemed confused at first, trying to reconcile my past life’s witch magic with my current shifter nature.”

“Exactly.” Vail squeezed her friend’s arm. “Which is another reason having you teach here would be incredible. You understand both sides of the experience.”

As if on cue, a heavy wooden door detached from one wall and glided across the floor, relocating itself further down the corridor. The movement was graceful, almost dance-like, accompanied by a soft humming that reminded Vail of distant wind chimes.

“The moving classrooms!” Romi’s eyes lit up. “I always loved how they rearranged themselves based on schedule changes. Remember when we were late to Potions because that one door kept playing hide and seek?”

“Pretty sure it was doing that on purpose.” Clover laughed. “Especially after we accidentally turned it purple when that color-changing spell went wrong.”