Chapter One #2
We had students arriving with uncertain magic, fox shifters ready to teach discipline through mischief, and an ancient vampire brewing tea strong enough to anchor a village. I even had a wolf at my side who didn’t need to speak to steady me.
But Gideon could be anywhere, and the Priestess could be planning anything.
Yet the Academy doors were open, and we weren’t hiding.
I let out a sigh and lifted my chin, stepping toward the newest cluster of midlife students.
“Welcome to the Academy. We can’t wait for you to begin your studies.”
The word begin had barely settled into the stone when the front doors slammed inward hard enough to rattle the floating orbs.
Every head turned, and the Academy’s hum sharpened.
Caleb filled the doorway like a storm with his dark hair wind-tossed and wolfish, shirt half untucked, and his jaw tight in a way that erased the easy grin he usually carried.
A few of the midlife witches looked baffled to see him.
“Sorry,” he said,
He didn’t sound sorry at all.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt the welcome speech.”
Twobble clutched his name cards to his chest. “Well, you absolutely did.”
Caleb’s gaze swept the foyer, taking in the students, the teachers, the open doors, but then his eyes landed on me.
“Maeve. We need a minute.”
The room shifted, and I watched returning students straighten up, and new ones freeze mid-step. My cousin wasn’t exactly being subtle.
The Academy’s greenery along the archway tightened slightly, leaves drawing inward as if listening.
I stepped forward to meet him as the witches went on their way.
I caught his gaze, dropping my voice. “Is it the perimeter?”
Caleb nodded once. “Yes and no. The orcs are restless.”
A murmur moved through the students like wind through tall grass. We hadn’t really discussed orcs being connected to Academy property.
Keegan came to my side without being asked. I didn’t look at him immediately, but I felt him there, solid and steady, his presence anchoring the floor beneath my feet.
“They just arrived,” I said quietly. “They’ve barely had time to unpack. I’m sure they’re unsettled, and a bit of resentment isn’t out of line. They got pushed from their homes.”
“They’re not unpacking anything,” Caleb replied. “They’re pacing. They’re distrustful. They’re watching our every move.”
Okay. That was worse.
Stella set her tray down on the nearest table with deliberate care. “Pacing leads to bad decisions, at least for me.”
Caleb stepped fully inside, and I watched the students instinctively move aside.
“What exactly is going on?” I asked as Keegan stepped closer to both of us.
“They’ve doubled their watch on the ridge. They’ve got their weapons out. It’s obviously not ceremonial.” He glanced over Keegan’s shoulder and lowered his voice even more. “They’re talking about going home.”
“There is no home to go to. If they leave here, they’ll fall into the Priestess’s hands.”
“They are always going to want home,” Ardetia said calmly. “It’s our job to explain that it’s going to take time. The Priestess depleted their resources, and she’s still playing the game.”
“True. It can’t be fixed overnight.” I nodded.
“They don’t think temporary anymore,” Caleb said. “They think trapped.”
That word landed heavier than it should have.
The orcs had come under an agreement. Neutral ground. Temporary alliance. A shared understanding that dealing with the Priestess and the fractures between realms would take time.
Time wasn’t something orcs valued when their swamps called.
I finally looked at Keegan.
His jaw had set, and his hazel eyes had gone thoughtful in the way that meant he was calculating outcomes three steps ahead.
“They believe the perimeter is holding them,” he said.
Caleb gave a sharp nod. “They believe we’re holding them.”
A ripple of unease threaded through the foyer.
“That’s not true.” Ardetia shook her head.
“No,” Caleb agreed. “It isn’t. But truth and belief rarely travel together.”
Twobble cleared his throat loudly. “I would like to formally state that if anyone is being held against their will, it is me.”
Skonk chuckled and shook his head. “Cousin, you’ve spent decades trying to get into these walls. We all know you’re not leaving unless the Academy throws you out.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time.” Twobble waggled his brows. “But what I’m saying is that it’s all about perception.”
The Academy’s hum dipped lower, as if the stone agreed with him.
“They want to push the perimeter,” Caleb continued. “Test it. See if it pushes back.”
“That could weaken the Wards,” Nova said softly.
She’d set up some protection spells, but they weren’t fences, even if the orcs might take it that way.
“The Wards are already adjusting,” Ardetia added. “But we can’t afford a strain from two directions.”
I shivered as her words landed because she was right.
We had orcs at the edges and a Priestess somewhere beyond who was patient and listening.
“They came because their land is unstable,” I said. “Because Shadowick’s interference bled into territories it never had before. They know that. In their hearts, they know this is the best option for now.”
“They know,” Caleb replied. “But knowing doesn’t make waiting easier.”
He was right.
I thought of the meeting with the orcs—their broad shoulders squared, their leader’s steady gaze. They had not come begging, but we had settled on temporary refuge in exchange for strength.
But now refuge felt like confinement to them, and that was a problem or could become one.
Keegan’s hand brushed lightly against the small of my back, barely there, but enough.
“We need to talk to them,” he said. “Before they decide for us.”
“They’re not in a talking mood,” Caleb warned.
“Then we don’t approach as negotiators,” Keegan replied. “We approach as allies.”
I swallowed. “And if they don’t see us that way anymore?”
The question hung.
Stella stepped closer, voice low but firm. “Then we remind them.”
“How?” Bella asked.
“By not panicking in front of the new arrivals,” Stella said pointedly, glancing at the students who were pretending not to listen.
Right.
Orientation.
I turned slightly, addressing the gathered witches and shifters.
“This doesn’t change anything about today,” I said, letting calm settle into the words. “The Academy is open. You’re safe here.”
Safe.
The word tasted like hope and risk.
Caleb watched me carefully, as if measuring whether I believed what I’d just said.
“Maeve,” he said quietly, “if they push, the perimeter will push back.”
“And if it pushes back too hard?” Nova asked.
“Then they’ll think it’s intentional,” Caleb replied.
Silence fell again.
The orcs had just arrived. They wanted to return to their swamps, their caverns, their ancestral fires. I understood that ache. I understood wanting to go home.
But dealing with the Priestess would take time. Patience. Precision.
And by the sound of it, the orcs had none of those attributes left.
Keegan leaned closer. “We go now,” he murmured. “Before the push becomes a break.”
I nodded slowly, and behind us, the Academy’s doors trembled faintly. It wasn’t from impact, but from pressure building somewhere beyond sight.
Caleb’s gaze flicked toward the sound.
“That wasn’t the wind,” he said.
The floating orbs dimmed a fraction, and deep in the stone beneath my boots, the hum shifted again. It felt like something was testing the edges from the outside.
Or the inside.
I met Keegan’s eyes.
“Tell me,” I said quietly, “that this is just impatience.”
Keegan didn’t answer immediately.
Outside, somewhere along the north ridge, a low horn sounded.
It wasn’t ceremonial, and it didn’t sound welcoming.
But it felt like a call or maybe directional.
And the first horn wasn’t alone.
The second horn answered from farther east, and it was shorter, sharper. The Academy doors shuddered again.
Students no longer pretended they weren’t listening.
No one said anything because we were all thinking the same thing.
The orcs had wanted to return home. They had been restless, yes. Impatient, absolutely.
But organized?
Simultaneous horn calls from different ridges?
That wasn’t frustration.
That was signal.
Keegan’s hand slid fully into mine this time, firm and unapologetic.
“We move,” he said. “Now.”
I nodded, but my gaze drifted once more to the doors. To the light filtering in beneath them. To the way the Academy’s greenery had drawn inward again, leaves tightening against the stone as if bracing.
The Priestess didn’t rage.
She arranged.
She preserved.
She decided who moved and when.
And Gideon had vanished after the orc meeting.
My stomach dropped, slow and cold.
I hoped we hadn’t been tricked.