Chapter Thirty-Four
Welcome.
The first thought that occurred to me was, why did it seem that every witch Academy in the Midwest opened its doors for me, and the second was…now what?
My mom knew about this place. It must have been one of the reasons she’d tried to come back, but she didn’t make it inside.
Or maybe, it wouldn’t open for her.
Something fluttered above, and I flinched as squeaks infiltrated the massive foyer. Bats flew above and directly toward the open door.
A few dipped lower, and I ducked as they went on their way.
Barlen stepped next to me, and I stared at him.
“Have you been in here before?” I whispered.
“I…uh, I…” He cleared his throat. “It’s been a long time.”
“So that’s a yes?”
“Indeed, it is.”
“Were there students when you roamed these halls?”
“A few…”
My eyes stayed on his. “Was Gideon one of them?”
He chuckled and shook his head, rocking on his tiny heels. “Oh, no. It was much longer than that.”
I stood, trying to take in what I could. Even though my mind wanted to compare it to the gorgeous Academy back in Stonewick, there was little here that reminded me of it.
The Stonewick Academy had always felt alive in a warm and welcoming way.
Even when it was angry or secretive or trying to shove me into danger while pretending it was character growth, there was still softness woven into its bones.
Sunlight through ivy. Butterflies drifting through gardens. Kitchen sprites arguing over pastries.
This place felt awake in a completely different manner.
It was as if something that had slept too long was deciding whether it was ready to be bothered.
Dust coated everything, but not evenly. Some sections of the floor looked untouched for decades, while others showed faint drag marks through the grime as if shadows moved furniture or secrets through the halls while no one watched.
The portraits lining the walls still faced us.
Every single one.
I tried not to look too closely at their eyes.
Naturally, that only made me look closer.
Some portraits showed witches dressed in deep charcoal robes threaded with silver embroidery.
Others wore entirely darker colors, black and midnight blue, with sharp collars and heavy, jewel-toned stones around their throats.
A few paintings had been slashed through, the canvas hanging in curled strips, while others appeared untouched, save for layers of dust.
One portrait in particular caught my attention.
A woman stood beside a window overlooking a garden filled with silver flowers. Her dark hair spilled over one shoulder, and though the style of her clothing was centuries old, there was something strangely familiar in the shape of her eyes.
It wasn’t the Priestess exactly, but close enough that my stomach tightened.
The plaque beneath her portrait had blackened with shadow mud.
Interesting.
I stepped toward it instinctively.
Barlen made a distressed sound behind me. “Must you touch everything?”
“I’m gathering information.”
“You’re disturbing things.”
“Honestly, that also sounds like me.” I smiled at him. “That’s how I do things. I’m a very tactile witch.”
The woman’s painted gaze in the portrait followed me as I approached.
Wonderful.
Absolutely wonderful.
The feeling she planted in me was similar to the Mona Lisa.
I brushed my fingers lightly across the plaque, but unlike the sign outside, the shadow mud didn’t dissolve. It tightened instead, darkening beneath my fingertips until the mark along my side pulsed sharply.
The woman in the portrait smiled, and I decided not to bother.
The Academy groaned softly overhead, the sound rolling through the ceilings and walls like old wood settling around us. But it wasn’t wood. It was stone. Massive black pillars stretched upward toward shadowed balconies where torn banners hung limp from rusted poles.
As I looked around, I wondered if students had once walked these halls without choosing a side. The realization sent something piercing through my chest.
What had happened here?
And why had no one truly talked about it?
My gaze drifted farther into the foyer, where two corridors branched in opposite directions. One curved downward into dim torchlight, while the other stretched long and straight with tall windows lining the wall.
There was no doubt in my mind that shadows lingered in both.
They didn’t seem to be waiting to attack. No, these just liked to watch and make me paranoid.
The shadows moved along the ceilings and corners in long, drifting ribbons, occasionally pausing. But I spotted the one I had followed through the village, which hovered halfway down the long corridor.
Barlen saw it too and muttered something under his breath.
“What exactly are they?” I asked quietly.
“The shadows?”
“Yes.”
“They’re…complicated.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one I have.” He shrugged. “They’re exactly what you see. Shadows.”
I frowned at him. “You’ve lived here for over a century. You know more than you’re letting on.”
His tiny paws immediately flew to his satchel. “I never said over a century.”
“You implied it aggressively.”
“I implied nothing.” He scowled and turned to ignore me.
“Barlen.” I touched his shoulder, and he turned back to face me. “What’s wrong with having lived here for over a century?”
He sighed dramatically. “Time behaves differently in Shadowick. Because it’s been nearly two centuries.”
“Wow.”
He lifted his chin. “And that was exactly the reaction I was trying to avoid.”
I nodded and started toward the long corridor, my boots disturbing thick dust as I walked. The sound echoed farther than it should have, bouncing down the hallway in soft rhythmic taps that reminded me unpleasantly of someone following half a step behind.
There were runes covering the walls here…thousands of them.
Some etched deep into the stone while others glimmered faintly beneath layers of soot. The farther we moved into the Academy, the more they appeared, winding around doorframes and curling beneath windows like vines carved directly into the architecture.
I slowed near one section where the runes had cracked apart. I studied the opening and noticed burn marks streaked the wall around it. Whatever was hot enough to do that wasn’t a typical torch. It had to have been magic.
The shadow mark on my shoulder throbbed sharply as I reached toward the broken symbols, and the second that my fingers brushed the wall, a rush of sound exploded through me.
Hedge magic.
Students shouted insistently in the halls as bells rang frantically. I could hear glass breaking and someone yelling to run.
I stumbled backward with a gasp, pulling myself out of the Hedge.
Barlen caught my elbow before I hit the floor.
“It’s wise to leave the damaged runes alone,” he hissed.
“Things to mention before I touch them.” My heart hammered violently against my ribs. “What happened here?”
He glanced down the corridor uneasily. “People stopped agreeing.”
“That is an incredibly vague explanation for magical destruction.”
“Yes, well.” His whiskers twitched. “History becomes difficult when most of the historians are dead.”
That shut me up.
For approximately three seconds.
“Was the Priestess here when it happened?”
Barlen went pale beneath his fur.
The shadows along the walls stirred.
“You should not ask that inside the Academy.”
“Why?”
“Because it listens.”
I looked around slowly. “Sounds familiar.”
The mark along my side fluttered again as I looked over at a set of double doors that stood halfway down the corridor.
Unlike the rest of the Academy, these doors showed no dust at all, and I stopped in front of them.
“Barlen.” I took a deep breath.
“No.”
“You don’t even know what I’m going to ask.”
“I do. The answer remains no.”
I studied the doors carefully. Tiny symbols had been etched between the roots. Moons. Flames. Butterflies. Wolves.
My stomach twisted. “This place taught everyone together.”
Barlen’s silence answered before he did.
Eventually, he muttered, “Once. It was long ago.”
The shadow near the far wall pulsed faintly as if they were waiting.
“Before Stonewick,” I muttered.
He nodded.
I looked back at the doors. “What’s inside?”
His ears flattened. “Classrooms.”
For some reason, that answer was heartbreaking. I could just imagine the students moving through the halls and sitting down to indulge in all things magical, and then, just like that…it stopped.
Barlen tugged at my sleeve. “We should go.”
“Why?”
“Because it is waking up.”
I looked at him quickly. “What does that mean?”
“It means the Priestess will be pleased.”
Ice flooded my veins as the words sliced into me.”
“Is this what she wanted from me?”
“Who knows? Can’t say.” Barlen’s gaze darted toward the shadows before returning to me. “But she has been trying for over a century.”
Over a century.
I stared at him.
Never mind the fact that his casual use of that timeframe implied he was old enough to remember eras instead of years.
One thought crashed through me so hard it nearly stopped my breathing.
Was this why the Priestess wanted me? It had nothing to do with the stone or her longevity. But because she knew I could open it.
My skin went cold as shadows along the walls moved faster now, but it didn’t feel frantic this time. It felt oddly welcoming.
“No,” I whispered.
Barlen looked miserable. “I warned you.”
“You didn’t warn me enough.” I took a step back and looked around the space. This Academy wanted to claim me.
“I tried!”
The runes along the corridor brightened at that moment…one after another.
The light rolled through the Academy, making the hair on my arms stand up beneath the cloak, and my mark pulsed violently, as if the Academy knew me.
Or thought it did.
And the Priestess had been waiting for that exact thing.
The realization crashed through me so hard I started backing away from the doors.
“Maeve,” Barlen said carefully.
“We need to leave.”
“Yes.” He stomped his foot again, which seemed to be a theme with him. “That’s what I’ve been saying all along.”
“Now.” It came out more of a whisper than I intended.
“YES.”
The shadows no longer felt merely curious. Instead, they were gathering, flowing down staircases, and slipping through walls toward the corridor where we stood. The air thickened with dust and old magic until every breath tasted thick with potential.
But I already had an Academy.
Another bell rang.
Closer.
The classroom doors behind me creaked open an inch.
I didn’t wait to see what was inside, so I hurried back down the corridor with Barlen, my boots slipping slightly in the dust as the Academy continued waking around us.
The giant entry doors remained open ahead, fog curling through them in pale ribbons. Relief surged through me at the sight.
The torches burst into flames along the walls in roaring waves, swallowing the shadows and revealing details I hadn’t seen before, like the banners hanging high above and the massive crest carved in the center of the balcony with roots wrapped around a star.
The Academy groaned deeply beneath our feet as the building shook, dust cascaded from the ceiling, and somewhere a door slammed.
And another…and then dozens.
My pulse thundered.
“Maeve,” Barlen whispered, genuine fear shaking his voice now. “Run.”
That was all the encouragement I needed as we bolted toward the entrance just as something moved along the upper balcony.
They weren’t shadows, but if I didn’t know better, I’d say they were…people.
No, not people.
Shapes.
Tall figures drifted through the dust-filled light as their outlines flickered in and out like reflections trapped underwater.
Students, watching and waiting, but what kind?
The Academy lights brightened as we crossed the threshold, and I looked over my shoulder one last time and realized the Academy was already coming back to life.