Chapter Thirty-Four
I hesitated for just a moment. This wasn’t the first time I’d found myself stepping across these threshold stones under unexpected circumstances. The Academy had a way of drawing people (fae, witches, and shifters) in at the most uncanny times. Yet I felt surprisingly calm, certain that whatever was about to happen, I needed to be part of it.
I entered the Academy and turned around to watch Ardetia take her first step inside. My heart pounded on her behalf after knowing what had happened to poor Twobble more times than I care to count.
Her delicate leather slipper nearly floated over the threshold and stuck down to the gleaming stone floors, and I gasped in shock. She didn’t get tossed into the middle of town or ignited into a ball of fire.
Bella followed behind her as if this was what was done every day.
It was as if the Academy had let people come and go as they pleased.
The soft glow of lanterns and floating orbs lit the space with a gentle radiance. The spinning mosaic on the ceiling, which I’d once thought was merely decorative, pulsed faintly, as though acknowledging that something new had begun. Warmth spread under my feet, the polished floors reflecting that same gentle light.
I turned, letting my gaze rest on Ardetia. She removed her hood entirely, revealing a face that was both regal and approachable. It was a striking combination. She had a quiet confidence, an undercurrent of power that I couldn’t quite place. Bella stood beside us, looking pleased as punch.
“So,” I ventured, smiling politely at Ardetia, “are you here to teach at the Academy?”
Ardetia gave a thoughtful hum.
“Perhaps. But I see my purpose here as something more than teaching. My family spoke of Stonewick’s Academy in hushed tones for generations. We had teachers and counselors when it was a beacon of unity. Everyone was welcome, magic was celebrated, and learning thrived. Then… the curse.” She paused, her green eyes darkening with old sorrow. “And the stories changed. The place became a legend of loss. Divided. My kin always said someone would come along one day, someone who could reignite the old magic. They whispered that if it ever happened, we’d feel the call across every realm.”
I swallowed, heart thudding. “And you felt it?”
She nodded. “The moment you stepped through the Academy gates, Maeve. The Wards awakened, your energy spread, and I sensed it from afar. In dreams, at first, a vague pull, a warmth in my chest. Then images of these halls. I knew I had to come.”
A chill ran through me, not from fear, but from the quiet confirmation that the Academy’s choice extended far beyond Stonewick.
“I’ve been having dreams too,” I admitted, trying not to sound breathless. “Sometimes they’re so real, I wake up confused about where I am.”
Ardetia’s expression softened. “Of course you do. You’re part of this place’s revival, Maeve. The Academy’s magic flows through you as surely as through these halls. It’s only natural that your dreams reflect that bond.”
My stomach tightened with equal parts excitement and nerves. “I guess it still doesn’t feel… normal to me.”
And it didn’t. No one sat me down and explained how this worked. I just had to fumble along the way.
“Nothing about this is ordinary,” Bella interjected, a reassuring spark in her eye. “And that’s kind of the point.”
Ardetia arched a brow, her gaze drifting around the entry hall. “There’s so much potential here…potential that’s been stifled for far too long. My family always believed we’d return one day to help unite Stonewick again. We just didn’t expect someone like you to be the reason.”
I wasn’t sure how to take that, so I cleared my throat, fighting the blush that threatened to color my cheeks.
She reached out. “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant that you’re someone who hasn’t grown up in our world. The magical world, but you are here. You are what the Academy needs. What Stonewick needs, the shifters, us fae…”
“You make it sound like I’m some great chosen hero. But I barely know how to manage my magic. Half the time, I think I’m just stumbling blindly while it does what it wants.”
A small smile tugged at her lips. “Stumbling is often how the best journeys start.”
I sighed, glancing at Bella. “And you want to teach?”
She nodded. “As best as I can.”
Bella nodded eagerly. “Ardetia’s presence is no doubt crucial to this.”
I nodded. “Indeed.”
Ardetia’s gaze sharpened on me. “And so are you, Maeve.”
That old discomfort rose, the persistent self-doubt I hadn’t fully shaken. “I still don’t understand why me. There has to be someone more qualified. Someone who studied magic from birth or has a lineage that—”
Bella laughed lightly, and even Ardetia’s lips twitched in amusement. Bella spoke first. “Magic doesn’t follow neat little lines. It finds the people it wants, regardless of how prepared or unprepared they are. We’re standing in the middle of an Academy for midlife witches. There is absolutely nothing linear about that.”
Ardetia inclined her head in agreement. “And from everything I’ve heard, you’re more prepared than you give yourself credit. My dream was unmistakable, Maeve. The Academy’s heart pulses around you. You’re the one who will unite Stonewick, but it can go both ways. Just as you feed off the Academy, the Academy feeds off you. It’s a great responsibility.”
A wave of warmth flooded my chest, and for a moment, I let myself believe it. For so long, I’d been reacting to events —Gideon’s looming threat, the Wards dwindling, the memory forges, my bizarre spell fiascos. But hearing it from someone else, someone with pointed ears and ancient knowledge in her eyes, somehow made it more real.
I moved across the hall, letting my fingertips brush the smooth stone walls. My voice came out soft, hesitant.
“So, if you’re truly here to unite Stonewick, does that mean you’ll stay?”
Ardetia nodded. “I intend to. If the Academy reopens, new students will need mentors and guardians. The Wards will require strengthening, and the knowledge that’s been fragmented must be gathered again. I have resources my family has kept for generations— scrolls, spells, and records that might help. If you're willing, we can use them to restore what’s been lost.”
I turned back to her, breath catching. “If I’m… willing? I’m beyond willing. I need to break the curse, and we need to get new energy into these walls, the Wards, everything…” I didn’t need to mention my dad or Keegan’s risks with the curse.
She stepped forward, the embroidered edges of her cloak catching the light. “Maeve, from what I’ve heard, you’re the key. The Wards revolve around you. The Academy recognized you. The gargoyles guard you. Even the memory flames stirred at your presence. None of that is a coincidence.”
How did she know all that?
“How did you know about the memory forges?”
“A dream.”
My eyes flicked downward, uneasy at the weight of all this responsibility. “I don’t want to screw this up.”
Ardetia’s expression softened. “Mistakes are part of the journey. Believe me, I’ve made plenty. But if we let fear keep us from acting, Stonewick remains divided. The Academy stays closed, new magic goes untrained, and Gideon, or anyone like him, can keep meddling.”
“Anyone like him?” I echoed. “You think there’s more trouble out there?”
She pursed her lips. “I think Gideon isn’t the only one who wants the Academy sealed. He may be the face of the curse, but curses often have multiple beneficiaries.”
I shuddered at the thought. “So even if we deal with Gideon, others might come after me, after the Academy?”
Ardetia nodded, gaze unwavering. “Yes. Which is why we need to do this thoroughly and with unity. Not just Stonewick, but all who believe in what it once stood for.”
I inhaled deeply, trying to steady the swirl of emotions. Fear, excitement, hope, dread… they all tumbled in my stomach like a chaotic recipe. Bella came to my side, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder.
“I know it’s overwhelming,” she said gently. “But you’re not alone. I’m here, Stella, Twobble, Nova, and Keegan.”
Ardetia flashed a smile. “I’m here too. And soon, others will answer the call—new students, teachers, guardians. The Academy’s heartsong is growing louder, Maeve.”
Heartsong. The word struck me as strangely beautiful. “And you said you had a dream that showed you the halls, that showed you me?”
Ardetia laughed softly, but her eyes were serious. “I dreamt of these corridors and your face, yes. In many dreams, you stood right here, at the heart of the Academy, light pouring through the windows as you extended a hand to me. That’s when I knew I had to come. And when I arrived, the Wards parted like a veil. It felt like coming home.”
A shiver worked its way through my spine. I tried to imagine what that must have been like, crossing realms or traveling for days, led by a feeling. Led by a dream.
Although I’d had something similar…
I reached for a stray lock of hair at my temple, tucking it back.
“I’ve had dreams like that too,” I admitted quietly, feeling a tiny twinge of vulnerability. “Dreams so real I can still taste the air when I wake up. Dreams of corridors and Wards and flickering lights. Dreams of lost words and people I shouldn’t encounter—” I paused, blinking. “I guess none of it was random.”
Ardetia’s lips curved in understanding. “No, it wasn’t. Dreams are how magic speaks to us sometimes, especially for those who walk between worlds.”
“Between worlds,” I repeated. Something about the phrase resonated deep in my bones.
Bella’s eyes brightened. “You do seem to do that more times than not.”
Ardetia nodded, a knowing sparkle in her eyes. “Well, it makes sense. You’re a—”
I stiffened, heart pounding, half expecting her to say something about me being chosen again or being some anomaly. But she paused, as if searching for the right words.
Finally, she settled on them with surprising gentleness. “A hedge witch.”
The finality of her tone sent a jolt through me. Bella’s lips parted in a silent gasp, but no one spoke. The words hung in the hush of the Academy’s hall, as weighty as any revelation I’d faced.
Hedge witch.
I swallowed, uncertain how to respond, uncertain what this truly meant for me or my future.
“Me?” I whispered. “A hedge witch?”
Ardetia’s smile was tender, understanding. She let out a soft laugh. “Well, of course you are.” She paused, her gaze never leaving mine. “You’re a hedge witch.”
“Wow,” I whispered, nodding. “But what’s a hedge witch?”