Shadows of Change (Arcanum Academy #1)

46. Finn

The corridors of the academy stretch ahead, dimly lit and eerily quiet for this hour. The faint drip of water echoes somewhere unseen, and the air carries a chill that raises goosebumps along my arms. My footsteps echo against the stone floor, a rhythm that usually settles my nerves but tonight only amplifies them.

"This is a terrible idea," I mutter, even as I keep moving. "Why did I let Malrik talk me into this?" The truth is, I hate feeling useless. Kaia's shadows, the wings, the necklace—it's all connected to something bigger, something I can't joke away. I've spent too long being the guy who lightens the mood with a well-timed quip, safe behind my humor. But when Kaia looks at me, she sees past the wisecracks. Like she's glimpsing someone worth counting on. And that terrifies me almost as much as it thrills me.

I pause at an intersection, trying to remember Malrik's hastily sketched map. The restricted section should be just ahead. As I turn the corner, a flicker of movement catches my eye—just a tapestry stirring in a draft, but enough to make my heart jump.

The door to the restricted section looms ahead, its heavy iron handle gleaming faintly. "Don't think about the wards," I tell myself. "They're probably deactivated at this hour. Probably."

Taking a deep breath, I push the door open. The air inside carries the scent of old parchment and dust. Shelves stretch toward the high ceiling, crammed with books that practically vibrate with forbidden knowledge. Their spines shimmer faintly, some embossed with symbols that seem to shift when viewed too long.

I scan the shelves quickly, searching for anything related to stellar magic or artifacts of power. Most titles are written in languages I can't read, their faded lettering making me squint. Then I spot it—a thin, leather-bound volume tucked between larger tomes. Its cover bears no title, only a faint, embossed design that looks like a constellation.

I run my fingers over the design, feeling the grooves warm under my touch, almost alive. The air grows heavy with possibility. I pull the book free, its pages crackling as I open it. Diagrams of constellations fill the first few pages, accompanied by notes in a spidery hand. One sketch catches my eye—a swirling cluster of stars arranged in the shape of a phoenix, its wings outstretched. Beneath it, the notes describe the "Rebirth Constellation," linked to cycles of destruction and renewal, though the text grows fragmented, hinting at something intentionally erased.

My heart jumps when I spot a passage describing "living constellations" and their connection to wielders of ancient power. But before I can read further, footsteps echo down the corridor outside. I clutch the book to my chest, scanning for cover. The shelves are too narrow, the tables too exposed. Finally, I spot a shadowy alcove near the far wall and dart toward it.

A figure steps inside—Professor Thorne, his sharp features made sharper by the dim light. He moves with the precision of someone who knows exactly where they're going, selecting a book from a shelf near the center of the room. Its dark cover bears an intricate silver design.

"Not yet," he mutters, barely audible. "But soon."

I press deeper into the shadows as he turns, his gaze sweeping the room one last time before departing. The door closes with a soft click that seems to echo in my bones.

I wait a full minute, my legs trembling slightly as I step out. Thorne's presence here can't be coincidence, not with everything happening with Kaia. Whatever secrets this book holds just became far more dangerous—and far more vital.

The academy feels different as I make my way back, as though the walls themselves are holding secrets. One thing's certain: we're not ready for what's coming. But maybe what I found tonight will help us survive it.