Chapter Twenty-Two
I knew where I needed to go. The dragons.
When we returned to the Academy, I told them I needed to lie down.
That much was true, but I just didn’t tell them where I was going first.
The corridor beyond the entrance had quieted, but it was never empty once school started.
The Academy didn’t sleep so much as settle into a softer kind of motion.
I spotted a student crossing the far end of the hall carrying a stack of books.
Somewhere deeper in the building, I heard a kettle whistle.
But I kept my pace steady because if I hurried, someone would notice.
The stone beneath my feet held that low hum of magic moving through the bones of the place. It traveled up through the soles of my boots with every step, giving me the extra oomph I needed after everything that had happened.
Of course, the images of my mother walking into the Wilds wouldn’t leave my mind.
Seeing that quiet determination firsthand once her decision had been made left very little to argue with. Nova had been right. Seeing it through the Academy’s eyes was the only way.
And Gideon. Seeing him there and feeling that the stories he gave me matched up added another layer of uncertainty. It wasn’t whether I could or couldn’t trust him. More so, it was why his heart was changing so much toward us.
In the memory, he had been there, half hidden beyond the clearing. Watching. That act alone was far more dangerous than anything I could imagine.
He could have stayed there, could have disappeared into the trees, and let whatever happened next unfold without him, but he remained watchful. And something told me that he would have stepped in if needed.
And that was an oddly unsettling thought to think about a foe turning friendly.
At what cost was the only question that remained when I thought about it.
Once he saw the Priestess and my mom at the compound, he turned back to Stonewick. He didn’t have to.
The realization settled into place piece by piece as I walked.
My steps slowed as the corridor curved, and I thought about Gideon falling back through the trees, standing at the edge of the Ward.
Gideon holding out that strange black stone like it might matter who touched it next.
None of it lined up with the neat picture everyone liked to paint of him.
Evildoer.
But the truth was held somewhere in the middle. He managed to do the unthinkable to my dad, Keegan, and Stonewick, but now, his decisions were less…
Less dark?
Or was that only because he hadn’t had the chance to harness the shadows again? I didn’t know, and only time would tell, I suppose.
I passed my room without stopping.
The air changed as I moved deeper into the older parts of the Academy. The stone here held a different weight, more ancient, perhaps? And the comforting scent drifted through the air.
Ash.
And something sweeter beneath it.
Cinnamon bark.
My birthmark stirred faintly against my hip as I walked, a quiet warmth that grew stronger the closer I came.
I paused beside the crooked portrait of an old headmistress whose bun looked like it could survive a siege.
I was so starkly different with hair all over the place, a messy bun or braid on a good day, and cloaks and sweaters layered depending on the cold outside, but I was here.
I hoped the Academy still felt confident in its choices because there were days I worried plenty it might have made a mistake.
My fingers brushed the edge of the frame, and the stone in the wall beside it answered with a soft pulse of warmth.
The Academy knew where I was going, or maybe it heard my doubts and wanted to guide me.
But regardless of the occasional self-doubt and messy decision, I felt like I finally belonged somewhere, and I felt… needed.
And the dragons, more than anyone else in this place, had a habit of seeing the pieces people missed, and that was what I needed.
Something fluttered in the air near my shoulder, and I couldn’t help but smile.
The key wasn’t an ordinary key, even by Academy standards, and every time I saw it, joy filled me.
“Hi,” I murmured.
It bobbed once, as if acknowledging my existence, and zipped down the corridor in a stitch of light.
The key didn’t slow. It led me to the unremarkable stretch of wall that just had stone and mortar lines. It was the kind of entrance anyone else would walk past without ever suspecting the Academy was hiding a secret in plain sight.
The stones shimmered faintly in my peripheral vision like heat haze as the key fluttered nearby.
The key spun once in the air and dropped toward a thin line of mortar in the wall.
I pressed my palm over the place it pointed to.
Warmth spread under my hand, and the key slid neatly into the lock, and a poof of fog surrounded the key.
“You’re a bit dramatic,” I muttered.
The door opened without a sound, and the air on the other side felt different right away.
It was scented with smoke and damp stone, tinged with a soft, metallic, clean scent that always made my mind go blank for a second.
I assumed that was the dragons.
The world behind me, the students and shifting alliances, fell away until it was nothing but a distant hum. Here, there was only quiet that felt full instead of empty.
I stepped inside, and the door closed behind me.
The passage was narrow and curved gently, lit by an impossible pearlescent glow that didn’t come from torches or lanterns. It came from the stone itself, from crystal veins embedded in the walls like captured starlight.
My anxiety from my mother and Gideon’s stone was wild, tangled, and desperate until I stepped inside. And I was humbly reminded that there were things far more delicate, far more important, and older than my panic.
What was that saying? This, too, shall pass?
The corridor opened into the dragon’s den as alcoves lined the walls. Inside those were the shapes of dragons, like live murals breathing in a dream. Many of the dragons were sleeping, and some of them were awake.
But the awareness in the air was unmistakable. They knew I’d entered their home.
And I wasn’t sure the dragons would welcome me tonight. Not after the chaos, the orcs, the Priestess trying to lay claim, and after the way I’d been shuddering under pressure.
But something in me urged me on anyway. Something steady and deep kept me going to the ones who always had something wise to tell me.
The space was vast, domed, cavernous, with the ceiling lost in shadows.
Fresh bioluminescent moss clung to the stone in soft emerald patches.
It looked different than the goblin gold I was used to seeing.
Strands of crystal embedded in the walls scattered reflections, as if the whole place was a prism dreaming.
Somewhere deeper in the chamber, breathing echoed. It was slow, deep, and steady.
I brought my gaze in front of me, and there they were.
Their bodies curled like celestial serpents. Their thick skin shimmered in the low light in every color imaginable. Silver, jade, deep plum streaked with gold, bronze that glowed like banked embers. It wasn’t my first time seeing them, but it took my breath away like it was.
Adult dragons lay across the den floor, resting but not truly asleep. As I stepped inside, eyes opened one after another.
I stopped without meaning to, and their attention settled on me slowly. These creatures had been here long before me, and they would likely be here long after as long as I did my job as headmistress.
My gaze drifted past them toward the far wall, where the very first hatchling I’d encountered stood.
I remembered back to meeting my first hatchling, and it felt so long ago.
But now the gorgeous creature had grown taller than me with its luminescent scales shining in the dim cavern light.
Its gaze fell to mine, and I couldn’t deny a kinship between us, even if I imagined it on my end.
I smiled softly, and the dragon tipped its head and lay back down.
I spotted a cluster of young dragons resting in a shallow alcove worn smooth by years of use. They were piled together in a tangle of wings and tails, the oversized sweep of their wings draped over each other while they slept, and my heart stopped.
The smallest one was about the size of a Labrador.
One of them stirred as I watched, and lifted its head slowly, small horns still pale and soft-looking, its eyes bright and curious.
My breath caught at their beauty.
They were incredible, but there was something else there, too.
A low rumble stirred to my left.
One of the adults, silvery, scales rippling like moonlight over water, sea-glass eyes half-lidded, lifted her head.
And her voice came not with sound, but as thought.
Bellemore child.
The words slid directly into my mind, warm and ancient, threaded with a presence that felt undeniably feminine.
Why do you come?
I stood still, heart beating hard enough to feel it in my throat. Even though this wasn’t the first time she’d spoken to me, it still stunned me every time. The clarity of her words and the intimacy of her thoughts were braided into mine.
“I needed to breathe somewhere that isn’t full of people watching me decide their fate in real time.”
A soft exhale curled from the dragon’s nostrils, smoke that smelled faintly of rain on hot stone filled the den.
The bronze dragon nearby, who was larger, shifted his weight, but didn’t come forward.
The silver dragon kept her gaze on mine.
You seek clarity, but that alone is never enough.
“I know,” I whispered. “Trust me, I know. I just watched my mom willingly walk with the Priestess.”
My gaze slid to the young dragons again. To the newest, tucked deeper in the alcove, chest rising and falling in tiny, steady breaths. I refused to feel the panic when thinking about keeping them safe…everything safe.
I watched them and thought about their future. I felt like I was looking at hope with claws and wings.
The den didn’t react to my revelation about my mom the way a room full of humans would. There weren’t any gasps or sympathetic noises, and certainly no immediate panic. I just felt their undivided attention.
Gone. A choice. The silver dragon’s gaze remained on mine, and for the first time, I fully accepted that it was my mother’s choice, but it didn’t mean it had to be mine.