Chapter Six
I needed quiet, and it wasn’t the kind where everyone leaves the room.
It was the kind where the noise inside my head stopped arguing with itself long enough for a plan to take shape.
More shifters would be here soon. Keegan’s inn was completely at capacity.
And my job as Headmistress of Stonewick was to keep students safe and keep the magic humming along.
I felt completely inadequate, yet oddly inspired because everywhere I looked, I saw glimpses of magic’s future.
Students upstairs were unpacking spell kits and lavender sachets, and there was an inn filling with magical travelers who weren’t here for workshops. Meanwhile, there was an Academy that had reopened after decades and decades, and I was going to ask what of it? Throw away tradition?
What if I invited them in and the Academy rejected them?
The humiliation alone would fracture everything.
If witches saw wolves barred at the threshold, and their children saw them being turned away, that would create a severe distrust and hatred toward the Academy and toward Stonewick.
That scenario would create exactly the divide I was trying to prevent.
I pushed my cold tea aside and glanced around the banquet hall.
“I need to think,” I said, standing.
Keegan nodded once and stood next to me as Nova excused herself.
“Wanna go for a walk?” he asked.
“I could go for a walk with tea as the consolation prize.”
His mouth twitched. “So, you want to go to Stella’s.”
I nodded.
There were moments in life when you needed a strategy and moments when you needed courage. And then there were moments when you needed Stella and her tea shop. I’d seen her dart off after she insisted I take her tea, but I needed her now, regardless of the fact that she had a tea shop to run.
We walked through the corridor toward the front doors and stepped out of the Academy together, leaving the low hum of student chatter behind.
The air outside carried the scent of pine and chimney smoke.
Somewhere deeper in the Wilds, a wolf called out again.
The sound wasn’t frantic or hostile, just present.
Keegan walked beside me without touching me, but close enough that I felt steadier for it.
“I can tell you’re running scenarios in your head,” he said after a few steps. “Getting caught in the what-if game.”
I nodded, smiling up at Keegan. I always appreciated how he didn’t pry and incessantly ask questions. But I loved how he could feel when I was drowning in my own thoughts.
Keegan eyed me. “Okay, tell me your worst-case scenario first.”
I exhaled slowly. “My worst-case scenario is that I formally invite the shifters inside. The Academy refuses them at the threshold, and everyone sees it…feels the humiliation. Then it will look like I only invited them to cross the threshold to humiliate them and make a point.”
“Well, that is certainly a worst-case scenario.” He chuckled softly. “I’m scared to hear what else your mind cooked up.”
“See? It’s scary in there.” I tapped my temple, and he laughed a little harder.
“Let’s focus on the best-case scenario,” he offered. “Tell me what you see then.”
“The shifters and orcs walk in, and nothing cracks. The Academy doesn’t blast them off the property. It just…adjusts. And magic is spread through unity and hope.”
“What do you think Stella will think about this idea?” he asked.
“I think Stella will tell me whether or not I’m being na?ve.” I shrugged. “But she’ll ensure that I have the right cup of tea regardless.”
He nodded and opened the door to the tea shop, and we stepped inside as the chime echoed.
Warmth wrapped around me immediately. Cinnamon.
Black tea. A hint of citrus peel drying near the window.
Small round tables scattered through the shop, each with a single candle flickering gently in the afternoon light.
I spotted pumpkins in the corner and fall décor along the windows.
I thought fondly back to when I watched her decorate the window before…
a little bit of magic and a lot of imagination.
Stella stood behind the counter, scarlet lips perfectly painted, silver hair swept back in a loose twist that looked effortless and absolutely wasn’t.
She glanced up.
“Well,” she said smoothly. “If it isn’t the town’s favorite overachievers.”
“We prefer ‘visionaries,’” I replied, thinking Twobble might have rubbed off on me.
“Visionaries require sleep,” she said. “You look like you haven’t had any in weeks.”
“That’s not inaccurate.” I grinned.
Keegan leaned a hip against the counter. “We need tea.”
“You always need tea.” She reached for the kettle without asking which blend. “And I assume this isn’t social.”
“It is,” I said quickly. “It’s deeply social. But possibly revolutionary, too.”
Stella paused mid-pour. “Oh, good. Just when I was getting bored.”
We took a small table near the window. Stella joined us with a porcelain pot and three delicate cups.
She settled into her chair with practiced grace, folding her hands on the table.
“Talk,” she said.
“Another group of orcs, ones thought to be extinct, just showed up. The other orcs, surprisingly, took them in. More shifters are on the way, lots of them, and Keegan says his inn is fully booked.” I took a breath. “Things are changing.”
They always do.” She eyed me. “So, what are your thoughts?”
“I think we need to invite them in,” I said. “I don’t mean without structure, and we have to respect the Academy’s wishes, and it must be done with intentionality.”
Her scarlet lips curved slightly.
“But?”
“But I’m worried they’ll get turned away. My heart would break to see that happen to them.”
“Define them,” she said.
“Shifters,” I replied. “Perhaps orcs. Non-witches in every magical form.”
Keegan stayed quiet and just watched us.
Stella leaned back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other.
“This is a midlife witch Academy,” she said calmly.
“I’m aware.”
“It has always been a place for witches, either reclaiming or learning power through craft.”
“Yes.”
“And you’re proposing to open it to those who do not practice the craft.”
“I’m proposing to open it to those affected by it.”
“That’s a very Hedge Witch answer.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” My brows lifted.
She studied me for a long beat and finally let out a sigh.
“You’re worried about consolidation in the wrong hands,” she said.
“Yes.”
“You think if magical communities are displaced yet clustered, someone will demand a singular authority.”
“Yes.”
“And you’d prefer that authority not be your grandmother.”
I laughed and took another sip of the tea, which had an oddly calming effect, and I knew better than to ask what was in it. “That would be ideal.”
Stella lifted her cup and drank.
“You realize,” she said, “that inviting them inside doesn’t guarantee unity.”
“I know.”
She tapped her slender index finger on the table in a steady rhythm. “Doing this does guarantee proximity.”
“That’s the point.”
“But proximity amplifies both harmony and discord alike.”
“I know, but if we could share with them some of our magic…”
Stella nodded. “It would give us a distinct advantage. But it can’t just be about numbers.”
Her words hit hard because it was true. This couldn’t just be about getting enough fighters.
They all had families and lives. It had to be about something more, and it was.
Magic was meant to unify and bring together all of the world, from the stars and moon to the sun and trees and every walk of life in between.
Even Twobble’s latest…friend.
“If they remain outside our walls, imagination will fill the gap. Students will picture invasion from those outside, and shifters will assume rejection, while orcs expect hostility. If they’re inside, we’re forced to speak to one another.”
“Speak about what?” she asked.
“Protection. Territory. Shared threats.”
Stella tapped her nails against the table.
“You want to turn the Academy into a forum.”
“I want to turn it into a bridge.”
Keegan finally spoke. “She thinks it’s the only way to preempt what the Priestess is building.”
Stella’s gaze flicked to him, then back to me.
“And what exactly is she building?” Stella asked softly.
“Division,” I said. “Pressure. Fear. If enough creatures feel cornered, they’ll look for strength in one place.
She’ll offer it. She’ll hand back the orcs their swamps and caves filled with food, but for a price.
She’ll give shifters back their lands while creating new rites. You saw what they looked like”
“And you want to offer them choice.”
“Exactly.” I grinned, thumping the table just enough to make my tea slosh.
Stella smiled faintly. “You do enjoy impossible tasks.”
“It grew on me.”
She laughed softly.
“What about your students?” she asked. “They came for spells and self-discovery. I don’t think they expect interspecies diplomacy.”
I chuckled. “Well, when you put it that way, it sounds a little lofty.”
Keegan smiled and shook his head, and I caught his gaze. The warmth in his expression warmed me and gave me the courage to keep vocalizing.
“Listen, these ladies came because something in them was restless. They knew there was something more for them, even though society likes to tell them otherwise. I know because it happened to me.” I said.
“They came because their old lives don’t fit anymore for whatever reason, whether it’s divorce, empty-nesting, or just quiet uncertainty.
That kind of woman can handle more than we could ever imagine. ”
Stella’s expression softened just a fraction. “But your fear is valid about the Academy shunning non-witch magicals.”
I nodded. “I know, and we’ll have to face it openly. If it happens, we explain it. We don’t let it fester into rumor. And maybe we use the UnderLoom for training, but we must make them feel included.”
She held my gaze for a long moment.
“You sound very certain.”
“I’m not,” I said honestly. “But I’m choosing movement forward.”