Shadows of Change (Arcanum Academy #1)

43. Finn

I can't help but grin as I watch Kaia's shadows play with the snack wrappers. They're like mischievous kittens, if kittens were made of living darkness and had a concerning fondness for sugar. Bob—and I'm still pretty proud of that name—is currently trying to fashion some kind of wrapper crown. His antics are a small, welcome reminder of the lightness we all need right now, weaving a thread of camaraderie into the heavy air. The little showoff.

"So," I say, popping another cookie into my mouth, "now that we've had our dramatic revelation hour, who wants to place bets on what fresh chaos tomorrow brings? My money's on Darian sprouting horns. It would explain the hair."

Malrik gives me a look that's half exasperation, half amusement. It's a familiar expression. "Perhaps we should focus on more pressing matters. Like how to keep Kaia safe while we figure out what Darian and Thorne are planning."

"Ooh, good point. I vote we stuff her in a closet until graduation. A nice, cozy closet. With snacks."

Aspen rolls his eyes. "Be serious, Finn."

"I am being serious! Have you seen what happens when Kaia gets hangry? Way scarier than Darian."

I'm about to launch into my very well-thought-out closet protection plan when I notice something. Kaia hasn't made a snarky comment about my brilliant ideas in at least five minutes. Which is approximately four minutes and fifty-nine seconds longer than usual.

I glance over and—yep, there it is. Sometime in the last few minutes, exhaustion seems to have finally caught up with her. Kaia's curled up on her cushions, fast asleep, her arms loosely wrapped around one of the pillows. Her shadows have cocooned her in a way that feels both protective and tender, their soft, swirling movements a quiet testament to the trust she’s placed in us tonight.

"Uh, guys?" I whisper, nodding towards our sleeping friend. "I think we broke her."

The others follow my gaze, and I swear I see Malrik's expression soften. It's a good look on him. Less broody prince, more... well, still broody. But in a softer way.

"Should we wake her?" Torric asks, his voice uncharacteristically gentle.

Aspen shakes his head. "Let her rest. After everything that's happened, she needs it."

I nod in agreement, carefully extracting myself from the snack circle. Mouse, who had been using my lap as a bed, gives me a disgruntled look before hopping over to curl up next to Kaia. His choice feels deliberate, like he’s declaring her part of the group’s inner circle—someone worth protecting and comforting, even in sleep.

"Well," I say quietly, stretching, "I guess that's our cue to leave. Unless we're having a slumber party. In which case, I call dibs on braiding Malrik's hair."

Malrik shoots me a glare that could probably turn lesser men to stone. Luckily, I'm made of sterner stuff. And have great hair-braiding skills.

"We should go," Aspen whispers, already gathering up the remnants of our snack feast. "Let her rest."

I nod, but can't help lingering as I watch Kaia sleep. Her face is relaxed in a way I've rarely seen, the constant furrow between her brows smoothed out. Even her shadows seem calmer, like they can relax now that she has.

"She looks..." I trail off, searching for the right words.

"Peaceful," Malrik finishes softly. When I glance at him, his silver eyes are fixed on Kaia, his expression uncharacteristically tender. "Like the weight of the world isn't on her shoulders for once."

"Yeah," I agree, feeling a lump form in my throat. "It's nice."

We stand there for a moment, all of us watching Kaia. It's weird how something as simple as seeing her sleep can make my chest ache like this. Like I'm seeing the person she could be—should be—without all the fear and secrets weighing her down.

"Do you think..." Torric starts, then pauses. When he continues, his voice is uncharacteristically hesitant. "Do you think she's really forgiven us? For keeping things from her?"

I want to make a joke, to lighten the mood like I always do. But the worry in Torric's voice strikes a chord in me. Because yeah, I've been wondering the same thing.

"I hope so," Aspen says quietly. "But even if she hasn't fully forgiven us yet, I think... I think we're on the right track."

"She trusted us enough to fall asleep," Malrik points out. "That's not nothing."

He's right. I've seen how guarded Kaia is, how she always seems to have one eye on the exits. The fact that she felt safe enough to let her guard down completely around us? It's huge.

"Plus," I add, unable to resist lightening the mood just a little, "Bob seems to have forgiven us. And we all know he's the real power behind the throne."

As if to prove my point, the shadow in question detaches itself from Kaia's cocoon and does what I swear is a little victory dance. Show-off.

"We should go," Malrik says again, but there's a hint of amusement in his voice. "Before we wake her up."

We start to tiptoe towards the door, but I can't resist one last look back. The sight of Kaia, curled up and peaceful, hits me like a punch to the gut. It's not just that she looks vulnerable—though she does, her usual sharp edges softened by sleep. I’d do anything for her. The thought hits me like a sucker punch, unexpected but undeniable. I’m not the guy who gets attached, who sticks around. But with Kaia... it’s different. She’s different. She’s like a storm—messy, unpredictable, and impossible to ignore. But she’s also the calm after it, the part that makes you want to stay, even when you’re used to running. And for the first time, I don’t want to run from it.

But as I watch the gentle rise and fall of her chest, the way her shadows curl protectively around her like a living blanket, I can't bring myself to be scared. Instead, I'm filled with a warmth that spreads from my chest to my fingertips, leaving me feeling both grounded and lighter than air.

I think about how far we've come since that first day, when Kaia stormed into our lives like a hurricane of sarcasm and poorly concealed pain. I remember the walls she put up, the way she'd flinch at unexpected touches or kind words. She’s not the same person now, and I hope I had something to do with that.

I sigh, a bit lost in my thoughts. I'm about to turn away when I notice something odd. The amethyst necklace, usually hidden beneath Kaia's clothes, has slipped free. The glow pulses softly, sending ripples through the shadows like a stone dropped into a still pond. As the light spreads, the patterns shift—stars blooming into constellations, their edges shimmering with a faint violet glow that feels almost alive.

"Uh, guys?" I whisper, nudging Malrik. "Is it just me, or is her necklace doing the magical nightlight thing again?"

Malrik turns, his eyes narrowing as he takes in the scene. "It's reacting to her shadows," he murmurs, a note of fascination in his voice. "Look how they're moving."

He's right. The shadows aren't just swirling randomly anymore. The patterns shift and reform, their lines weaving together like an ancient map. For a moment, they seem to pulse in time with Kaia’s breathing, as though tied to her heartbeat.

"Constellations," Aspen breathes, coming to stand beside us. "They look like the star charts from the ball."

"Okay, that's officially weird," I declare. "Cool, but weird. Should we wake her up?"

Malrik shakes his head. "No. Let her rest. We'll ask her about it in the morning."

"If she remembers," Torric points out. "You know how dreams can be."

I nod reluctantly, but I can't shake the feeling that we're witnessing something important—a quiet but powerful moment that ties Kaia’s magic, her shadows, and that mysterious necklace together. It’s as if the pieces of a puzzle are shifting into place, promising answers just out of reach. Something that could be a key to understanding all of this.

As we watch, one of the shadow-constellations seems to detach itself from the others. The shadow bobs hesitantly toward me, its movements jerky, like it’s still figuring out how to exist on its own. Its edges flicker like a faint flame, struggling to hold its shape.

"Hello, little star buddy," I whisper, holding out my hand. The shadow pauses, then gently brushes against my fingers. It feels... warm. Alive. Like touching starlight, if starlight was made of shadows. It sparks a flicker of awe in me, a reminder of how uniquely Kaia's magic threads the extraordinary into the everyday—a mystery I can’t help but want to unravel.

"Finn," Malrik warns, but I can hear the curiosity in his voice.

"It's okay," I assure him, though I'm not entirely sure why I feel so certain. "They're just saying hello."

The shadow constellation twirls around my hand once more before drifting back to rejoin its fellows. As it settles back into place, I swear I hear a faint melody. Like windchimes made of stardust.

"Did you guys hear that?" I ask, but the others are already shaking their heads.

"We should go," Aspen says again, tugging gently at my sleeve. "Before we wake her."

I let Aspen pull me toward the door, but the shadow’s warmth lingers on my hand. Things are about to get interesting—I can feel it.