Chapter Two
I stirred, the softness of a velvet comforter brushed against my fingertips as I surfaced from a haze of restless dreams. Grogginess tugged at my eyelids, and I fought the urge to sink back into the pillows. But something was off—I couldn’t recall owning a blanket this luxurious or waking up in a room scented faintly of vanilla and burned embers.
I opened my eyes fully, staring at an unfamiliar ceiling carved with swirling patterns. Some walls were a soothing shade of cream, accented by gold-leaf designs that shimmered in the gentle morning light, others built of stone. Large windows lined one side of the room, draped with heavy brocade curtains gleaming with tiny flecks of flickering thread. As my gaze flitted across the space, my heart began to pound.
This wasn’t my cottage, far from it.
Bolting upright and swinging my feet over the bed, the thick velvet comforter slipped down my legs. I last remembered standing in that circular chamber with Grandma Elira at my side in the Hall of Promises.
I’d been confronted by mirrors and a pedestal radiating magic, debating an impossible choice I wasn’t sure I’d made. Now, I found myself in a grand bed wrapped in soft sheets that smelled of fresh linen and forest.
“How did I get here?” I murmured, pressing a hand to my forehead.
My mind reeled at the gaps in my memory
How did I get here, and where was here?
I felt like a queen in a sprawling bedroom straight from a storybook. The stone walls around me rose high, their rough texture softened by curtains with thick ropes tying the curtains back, letting in the soft glow of morning light. Near the far corner, a grand fireplace with ornate carvings nestled against the wall, heat emanating from the crackling logs within.
As I turned, my eyes fell upon a wall of books reaching up to a second-story balcony, their spines in every color imaginable. A modest ladder leaned against the shelves, tempting me to explore titles I’d never dreamed existed.
Colorful rugs brightened the wooden floors, each woven with intricate patterns of vines and blossoms that seemed to echo the room's rustic charm.
I ran my hand over one of the rugs, the threads plush beneath my fingertips. The entire space felt alive, as though the walls themselves were breathing magic into the air. At that moment, surrounded by calm and mystery, I realized just how easy it would be to lose myself in this place—and I couldn’t help but smile.
A soft knock at the door startled me, and before I could respond, it swung open. Grandma Elira entered, wearing an emerald gown that made her silver hair look more regal.
“Good, you’re awake,” she said, closing the door behind her. There was a calm note in her voice that did little to soothe my confusion.
I tried to steady my breathing.
“Grandma,” I began, my voice cracking with uncertainty. “Where… where am I? Did I pass out?”
Her expression softened. “You fainted in the Hall of Promises. The Academy recognized your physical and emotional fatigue, bringing you here to rest. You needed it.”
I stared at her, my hand still clutching the velvet comforter.
“Brought me here? I don’t remember walking.”
“You didn’t.” She shook her head. “And I certainly didn’t carry you.”
I chuckled.
“The Academy can be…helpful when it chooses.”
At least one question had been answered: my presence here was real. I honestly had stepped into a life where ancient magic and living buildings decided my fate.
Glancing around the ornate room, I couldn’t help but marvel.
“It’s so beautiful. But…a lot to take in.”
She stepped closer, her hand resting on my arm. “Welcome to the Academy, my dear. Full of surprises, traditions, and everything else to make you question your place in the world.”
I laughed and shook my head. “Where am I, exactly?”
“This is your room.”
My heart fell. “What about my cottage?”
She smiled and cupped my chin with her palm, rubbing my cheek like I was six. “It’s yours too.”
Relief spread through me, and I shook my head. “Unless Keegan decides otherwise.”
Deep in my belly, a knot surfaced at the thought of him, of my cottage.
I missed them.
Both of them.
And it was sneaking up on me.
“Well, there’s always that.” She winked at me. “But something tells me that cottage has found its new caretaker. Keegan would be foolish to boot you out. He’d make the Academy very angry.”
My brow arched. “What about Miora?”
She chuckled. “I should have been more precise with my words. The cottage has found its living caretaker.”
I remained on the edge of the velvety bed, tracing the embroidered pattern on the comforter with my fingertip. The heat from the fireplace across the room beckoned, but my thoughts wouldn’t settle enough for me to relax.
Grandma Elira stood by one of the tall windows, her gaze drifting over the courtyard beyond. Finally, I mustered the courage to voice what was bothering me.
“When can I invite Stella, Keegan, or Nova here?” I asked, trying to hide the impatience in my voice. “I feel guilty that I’m inside these walls while they’re out there, holding things together.”
She turned, and I caught a hint of sympathy in her eyes.
“Maeve,” she said gently, “the Academy isn’t ready for guests. Not yet.”
Confusion prickled at the back of my neck.
“But I thought it opened,” I said, gesturing around the grand bedroom. “I mean, I’m here, right?”
“It opened for you. The Academy allowed you through its doors because it recognized your needs and potential. But that doesn’t mean it’s fully operational as a functioning school.”
I frowned. “What’s stopping it? We’re standing in this massive place filled with magic and resources. It feels so alive. If we had witches learning, practicing, and studying, we have a better shot of undoing the curse or defeating Shadowick,” I cleared my throat. “This place is alive with knowledge.”
Her smile carried a hint of melancholy. “Alive, yes. But it’s not whole. The Academy can’t truly return to its former state until there’s a headmistress or headmaster to guide it. We need someone who understands its history, purpose, and responsibility for nurturing new witches and warlocks. Without that person, the Academy’s corridors remain dormant to most, and its classrooms locked away.”
I blinked, the weight of her words settling in.
“So, all of this…the halls, the library, the magic… only opened to let me in?”
“It recognizes the qualities it seeks in you. And that is enough for now.”
My shoulders sagged.
I thought about Stella’s sparkly mischief, Keegan’s brooding loyalty, and Nova’s quiet wisdom. I pictured them exploring the corridors and the library, maybe even helping me figure out how to master the magic I so desperately needed to control. They would be such beneficial guides.
A pang of disappointment tugged at my heart.
“So how long will it be before there’s a headmistress or headmaster… before the Academy is open again?”
“That depends. It could be months. It could be years. It could be decades. The Academy chooses in its own time and its own way.”
“We don’t have decades.” A shudder ran through me when I thought of the small battle we fought and won.
A sense of helplessness coiled in my chest.
Here I was, surrounded by magic and possibility, yet my friends remained outside.
“We don’t get to decide that.” My grandma pressed her lips into a thin line.
“Then what do I do until then?”
“You learn, Maeve. You grow, and you prepare. Because once this place truly opens, it will need your help more than ever.”
“And I can leave whenever I want?”
She nodded, but a sliver of sadness etched her lips. “Yes.”
It must be so hard to hear me talking about wanting to leave when I’d barely been here long enough to stay. She’d spent decades without family, and I was itching to step back into the other world while keeping my toe in this one.
“And you? Can you come back to the cottage with me? I’m sure your sister would love to see you.”
My grandma’s gaze fell to the floor. “No, it’s not quite that simple.”
“What do you mean?” I shook my head. “If I can come and go, why can’t you?”
She sighed and nodded, bringing her gaze back to mine. “Once I step outside these doors, I will cease to exist in the form you see.”
My brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“When the curse fell upon Stonewick, those stuck inside were…” Her voice trailed off.
“Were what?”
“Condemned to eternal life among these walls or death outside of them. The Academy closed to students and most everyone over a hundred years ago to protect itself.” She sighed. “But it knew what was coming before we did. The guardians were still allowed to roam the halls, along with some other chosen ones, until the curse hit. Then whoever was inside was locked in here, and whoever was locked out was no longer allowed in, guardian or not.”
It felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. I touched my chest, trying to breathe as my head managed to wrap sense around her words.
“I don’t understand. How can something have so much power over…” I didn’t even know how to finish my question.
She stood by the tall window, the glow of the floating orbs reflecting off her silver hair. I watched her with a mix of awe and sadness.
Every time she spoke, it felt like she was unearthing secrets buried for centuries, each revelation leaving me both enlightened and unsettled.
“You have to remember.” She turned to face me. “The mortal world still imposes its own rules—laws of nature, physics, society. Magic can bend them but not always break them. Not without consequence.”
I folded my arms, glancing around the vaulted room.
The walls practically vibrated with arcane energy, and I couldn’t deny the sense that we stood in a realm apart from ordinary reality. Yet, we were restrained by reality, by the ordinary.
“So we can’t just conjure anything we want? No snapping fingers and upending society?”
A faint smile played at the corners of my grandma’s lips.
“There have been mages who tried just that, and history remembers them for their downfall. Even the most powerful sorcerers are subject to mortal constraints. Gravity still applies—unless a spell is specifically crafted to defy it, and even then, it’s a temporary measure. Bodies still need rest. Spells need power. We are creatures tied to the mortal plane.”
Her words made sense, but I couldn’t shake the contradiction all around us—glowing pillars, living corridors, an entire structure that seemed to shift when it felt like it.
“But the Academy doesn’t follow mortal rules,” I said, half-accusing. “It’s practically an entity unto itself.”
She nodded gravely. “Because the Academy stands at the intersection of worlds. It’s the heart of Stonewick’s magic, a nexus point where earthly and magical laws blend into something else entirely. Here, the rules shift. Here, a door may seal itself to defend its inhabitants, or a corridor may appear to guide you to a hidden library. Mortals still walk these halls, but the building’s magic supersedes the normal order.”
I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to parse it all.
“So the Academy can bend reality in here more than we can out there.”
“Precisely,” my grandma said. “It’s why Gideon would love to come inside. Within these walls, the Academy’s rules take precedence. The boundaries are firmer out there in Stonewick—though it’s a magical town. We exist in a delicate balance with the mortal plane, respecting its laws to avoid catastrophic backlash.”
I looked at her, the weight of so many half-answered questions still pressing on me.
“What if something forces the Academy to close itself again?” My voice shook at the thought. “Would anyone here be bound to remain, even if they had obligations outside?”
Her gaze shifted to the swirling orbs floating near the ceiling. “Yes. In here, the Academy is sovereign. Mortals, mages, and witches alike bow to its authority.”
My stomach knotted at the thought of its power. “So we abide by mortal rules outside and Academy rules inside.”
She placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “It’s the duality of our lives, Maeve. Embrace it, and you’ll see there’s far more possibility than limitation.” She tapped my shoulder softly. “Now, let me show you a little something before you leave.”
I laughed and glanced at her. “You know I’m leaving?”
“I can sense it, and that’s okay. You’re balancing your new worlds as best you can. It will become easier.”