Chapter Two
Keegan didn’t answer right away.
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. His left hand rubbed slowly at the back of his neck. His eyes drifted to the tall windows where the light filtered through ivy and stained glass.
For a moment, he looked less like the wolf who guarded Stonewick and more like a man trying to find the right shape for a memory that didn’t want to be remembered.
“It wasn’t a fight,” he said finally. “That’s the strange part. There was no spell to break or clawing our way free. One second, the Priestess was reaching for us, and the next—”
He paused, searching.
“It was like the world blinked,” he said. “As if someone dropped a glass dome over Stonewick.”
My breath caught, and Keegan’s gaze flicked to mine, then away again.
“I don’t mean a protection spell. Not like the ones we know.
This wasn’t something woven or cast. It slammed down, completely solid and absolute.
” His eyes stayed on mine. “I felt a heaviness in my chest first that was like a pressure, but then I felt it all around as if I was standing too close to a ringing bell. It was as if the world around us slammed down.”
Stella let out a low sound, something between a hum and a curse.
“And I would like it on the record that in several centuries of being undead, dramatically powerful, and extremely difficult to impress, I have never felt anything like that.”
Everyone looked at her.
Stella folded her arms. “It wasn’t magic as we understand it.
It wasn’t blood magic, or fae craft, or even old Academy shenanigans.
It felt…” She shivered once, sharp and quick.
“Personal. It was as if the land itself put a hand on our backs and said, Absolutely not. You will not go with the Priestess. You’re protected now. ”
Bella’s mouth curved into a small, pleased smile. “Stonewick does have opinions.”
“This was more than opinion,” Stella said. “It was insistence, and it wasn’t just Stonewick.”
Keegan nodded. “The Priestess was mid-incantation. She was pulling, hard. I could feel the burning shooting through me like hooks under my ribs, trying to drag us sideways out of the world. And then—” He snapped his fingers softly. “Gone.”
“Gone?” I whispered.
“Pushed,” he corrected. “She didn’t retreat. She was forced back. Like magnets flipped the wrong way, and she fell backward.”
Stella pointed at him. “That. Exactly that. I felt anchored and rooted while the Priestess was flung from us and blocked.”
Nova had gone very still.
When she finally spoke, her voice was quieter than usual, threaded with something like reverence. “The Glacial Hollows.”
The place settled into the hall like a soft bell toll.
Twobble blinked. “Oh.”
I looked between them. “What?”
Nova inclined her head. “The Hollows are not guardians in the way gargoyles are. They don’t patrol. They don’t warn. They intervene only when a vow has been made, and the balance is at risk of being undone.”
Keegan frowned slightly. “I didn’t see anything.”
“You wouldn’t,” Nova said. “It exists between the things we name. Between promise and consequence.”
Stella grimaced. “Well, I’m grateful for whoever or whatever stepped in. These fangs can only do so much.”
“The Hollows hold some of the oldest vows magic has,” Nova continued. “Older than the Academy. Older than the Wards.”
Twobble rocked back on his heels. “I didn’t think the Hollows chose sides.”
“It’s upholding a vow, not a side,” Nova agreed.
My heart thudded, slow and heavy. “You’re saying it stepped in simply because—”
“Because Gideon agreed,” Nova said gently.
The room went very quiet.
Keegan exhaled and nodded. “That tracks.”
Bella’s ears flicked, just barely visible before she smoothed them away.
Nova’s gaze met mine. “He vowed to close the circle, and the Hollows didn’t want anyone interfering.”
The words sent a familiar ripple through me. Once again, magic was about choice and recognition.
“The Hollows doesn’t care about motive,” Nova went on. “Only consent. Gideon agreed to the terms, even if he believes he can outsmart them. And once that vow was acknowledged, the Hollows ensured the conditions remained intact.”
Stella let out a soft, incredulous laugh. “So the Priestess tried to pull us out of play, and magic itself said, not on our watch.”
“That’s one way to put it,” Nova said. “And we certainly can’t expect the Hollows to step in to save us all the time because the Hollows wouldn’t. This is a special predicament. A vow was made on its land.”
Keegan shifted closer to me, his shoulder brushing mine. “I didn’t understand what happened at the time. I just knew we couldn’t physically go with her. Stonewick, or I suppose the Hollows, wasn’t letting us leave.”
I swallowed. “And her?”
“Thrown clear,” Stella said briskly. “She wasn’t harmed. Just… removed.”
Twobble whistled. “Remind me never to annoy the Hollows.”
Nova’s lips curved faintly. “You already do.”
A fragile, strange warmth spread through my chest. The Hollows hadn’t necessarily protected them. It had chosen to uphold something that would shape magic as we knew it.
“But that means,” I said slowly, “if Gideon changes his mind—”
“The Hollows won’t stop him from regretting it,” Nova said. “But they will hold him to it. That’s why the circle must be closed soon. Before he tries to twist the vow into something unrecognizable.”
Keegan’s gaze dropped to the floor, then lifted again, steady. “He won’t wait forever. He hates being bound.”
“And the Priestess?” I asked.
Stella’s smile sharpened. “She can push. She can threaten. But she cannot interfere directly anymore. Not without breaking rules far older than she is.”
Bella crossed her arms. “Which she won’t do lightly.”
“Because even she knows better,” Nova agreed. “But once the circle is closed and the vow has been seen through, the Hollows will go back to being neutral ground and the Priestess…”
She didn’t finish her sentence. She didn’t need to. The priestess would be free to wreak havoc once again.
The Academy hummed, low and content, like a cat settling deeper into a sunny windowsill after lunch.
Twobble cleared his throat. “So in summary, we have a goblin spy with a limited attention span, a wolf and bulldog who survived multiple curses, a headmistress who has caught the attention of the priestess, an ancient unseen force enforcing magical consent, and a bad guy on a ticking clock, snooping around town.”
Stella nodded. “When you put it that way, it sounds downright cozy.”
I laughed softly, the tension easing just enough to let me breathe.
Keegan turned toward me, his voice lower now, meant only for me. “You okay?”
The question was gentle and pure.
I leaned into his shoulder, just a little, relishing the comfort he always managed to provide. “Not entirely. But I think… I think Stonewick has my back.”
His arm came around me without hesitation. “It does.”
Outside, the light shifted, and somewhere beneath the stone, something old and watchful settled back into its waiting.
The circle wasn’t closed yet, but the elements were holding.
Nova lifted her staff slightly, the way someone might lift a lantern in a dark attic, as if to signal the next step.
“The Wilds are ready,” she said, closing her eyes. “I can feel their call.”
The words weren’t dramatic, yet the air shifted like the Academy had leaned in to listen. The walls held their breath. The glass in the windows shimmered its response, as if the building itself wanted to be included in the decision.
Twobble’s ears perked. “Ready as in… snacks are out? Or ready as in… everyone should stop breathing in mushroom dust?”
“Both,” Stella muttered, chuckling. “We don’t have time for any funny business.”
Nova ignored that with the grace of a seer who had long ago accepted that her life would be filled with goblins, vampires, and everything in between.
“The Wilds have been watching the edges. They’ve been steadying the places where the circle will need to hold.
It’s rare for them to roll out a welcome like this. ”
Ardetia’s gaze softened. “Nature’s ability to read the rights and wrongs of the world never ceases to amaze me.”
Bella’s mouth tilted into a sharp grin. “Well, the Wilds do enjoy a good moment.”
Keegan made a low sound that might’ve been agreement, though his attention stayed on Nova. He was always listening for the hidden hook in a sentence.
Nova’s green eyes found mine. “If everyone still trusts allowing Gideon on the property, then the process can begin.”
There it was again.
It wasn’t a command or a proclamation. It was a hinge, waiting for us to step through, but it could swing either way.
After all, this wasn’t the first time we stepped into the Wilds expecting an outcome that never came.
Twobble rocked on his heels, looking like someone who’d been asked to vote on whether or not to invite a bear into a bakery. “Trust is a strong word.”
Stella’s eyes flashed. “Trust is a ridiculous word.”
Nova’s mouth twitched. “And yet, here we are.”
Stella swept forward, shawl flowing, rings catching the light like small warnings. “May I say something as the oldest, wisest, and most offended being in this hallway?”
“Oldest is debatable,” Nova said under her breath, and I realized how little I knew about Nova’s past, by her design, of course.
“Don’t encourage her,” Twobble stage-whispered to Bella.
Bella stage-whispered back, “It’s too late. She’s already in the spotlight.”
Stella planted her hands on her hips.
“The Priestess,” she said, drawing the title out like it tasted bitter, “has the audacity to roll into Stonewick and act as if she can pluck people out of our town like she’s selecting pastries at a bakery.”
Twobble gasped. “How dare she. Pastries should be selected with care.”
Stella shot him a look that could have curdled cream. “Not pastries, you menace. People.”
“I’m just saying,” Twobble said, offended, “the metaphor is flawed. If she tried to pluck pastries from my bakery, I’d bite her.”