Page 16 of Devoted in the Midlife

Ransom stood smoothly, already reaching for his jacket. I rubbed my forehead, wondering what kind of magical mess Goldie could have gotten into and whether it involved fire, blood, or knowing our girl, probably both. At least we could rule out boys for a few more years.

I made a quick stop in front of the hall mirror to make sure having an elementary schooler hadn't aged me a decade in the last five minutes. The face looking back still passed for late twenties, if you squinted past the immortality. Small mercies.

When I joined Ransom and Ivy in the pantry, the back wall was already shimmering as the portal magic activated. You'd think I'd be used to it by now, but that swooping feeling in my stomach as the world rippled never quite went away. One deep breath and a step later, the crisp Pennsylvania fall gave way to the earthy warmth of the Rune Academy courtyard.

I took a moment to appreciate the sprawling, timeless beauty of the campus, like something out of a wizard's architectural fever dream. Gothic spires and ivy-covered archways juxtaposed sleek modern atriums sparkling with magical elements. The magic-tinged air carried hints of old books, dried herbs from the greenhouse, and that distinct pins-and-needles ozone scent of active enchantments. Students darted between classes clutching books and chattering.

"You have to appreciate the grounds warding," Ransom said as we walked with Ivy across the sun-drenched courtyard, ringlets of runes etched into the stone walkways. "Allowing us to pass through the daylight unharmed." Trust Ransom to focus on the practical magic over the aesthetic flourishes.

We were greeted at the front of the building by two familiar faces. John and Beth, the headmaster and headmistress. If I had breath, their grim expressions would have sucked it out of my lungs.

"Thank you both for coming on such short notice," John said with a tight nod. "Please follow us."

Beth shot me a look that whispered you're going to want to sit down for this one as she turned to lead us through the ivy-covered stone halls.

The admin wing had the same blend of magical gravitas and disorienting normal school vibes as the rest of the campus - motivational posters for broom safety next to ads for honor roll potion tutoring. Sitting right outside the headmaster's dark oak door, swinging her legs and sporting a defiant gleam in her eyes I would recognize across dimensions, was Goldie.

My stomach sank into my two-hundred-dollar shoes. Seeing us, Goldie hopped to her feet, setting her chin at that particular angle that meant she expected to be in trouble but wasn't about to admit it.

"I didn't start it," she declared, her bright eyes flashing. Then, she jutted her chin impossibly higher. "But I finished it."

Ransom simply raised one eyebrow. I resisted the urge to drop my face into my palms. "Oh, boy."

Leaving Goldie in the too-quiet outer office, we followed John and Beth through the heavy oak door. I didn't have to be a telepath to catch the smirk Goldie tossed my way as it clicked shut behind us.

"So." I planted myself in one of the ornate chairs across from John's desk, aiming for an air of vampiric poise rather than exasperated parent. "What exactly happened?" Ivy sat beside me, and Ransom stood behind us both.

Beth perched on the arm of the adjacent chair, hands folded. "There was an altercation between Goldie and another student. A young witch who made disparaging remarks toward Goldie'sfriend Emily for being—and I quote—just a human at a supernatural school."

In a school full of magical prodigies, a "just human" kid was always going to be an easy target.

"Unsurprisingly," John continued, steepling his long fingers on the immaculate desk blotter, "Goldie took exception to this and decided to stand up for her friend. By, ah, shifting into her cat form and introducing her claws to the other girl's face."

I winced. Ransom leaned forward, looking every inch the ancient warrior despite the faculty office surroundings.

"Is the other student all right?" he asked. Beth waved a dismissive hand.

"Oh, she's fine. Healed before she made it to the infirmary, not even a scar. But you can imagine the outcry. Parents howling for suspension, students taking sides, half the faculty calling for disciplinary action, the other half wanting to nominate Goldie for Shifter of the Month for defending her friend..."

She threw up her hands in a shrug, and I had a flash of sympathy for all the admin types throughout history who'd had to play politics on top of normal school shenanigans.

Ransom crossed his arms. "So if this isn't a cut-and-dried behavioral issue, I assume there's a reason you called us in?"

John and Beth exchanged a weighted glance. John sighed, taking off his wire-rimmed glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. "The simple truth is, we're not entirely sure how to handle this. We don't condone violence, certainly, but we also deeply value the loyalty and sheer courage it took for Goldie to stand up for her friend like that, against an older student no less."

"In a human school, this would be a no-brainer." Beth shook her head, mouth quirking. "But here, the rules are still being written for situations like this. A shifter child, not even a tween, nobly coming to the defense of her human bestie against magical bullying? It's uncharted territory."

Ransom's face was unreadable, but I caught the glimmer of something fierce and proud in his eyes. "So you want our input on whether she gets detention or a trophy?"

I scratched my chin, trying to walk the impossible parental tightrope between discipline and empathy. "She's eight and can literally sprout claws when she feels threatened. Maybe we start with a stern talk and a trip to the ice cream shop to talk about solving conflict without violence, supernatural or otherwise? A little positive reinforcement to balance out any punishment."

Beth nodded slowly. "A commendation at the end-of-week assembly for exceptional defense of her classmates, but given along with the task of writing an apology letter for resorting to force? And we could sign her up for those emotional regulation sessions with the centaur counselor..."

Ransom snorted, but he didn't argue the point. We all knew Goldie needed better tools than tooth and claw to navigate the tumultuous waters of growing up between worlds.

"What about the other girl?" I asked, remembering my own playground days and the axiom about it taking two to tangle. "The one spouting the magical purist garbage?"

John straightened a stack of papers, the very picture of diplomatic discretion. "Student privacy means we can't disclose the specifics of anyone else's situation, as I'm sure you understand. But yes, rest assured it's being dealt with seriously.We have a zero-tolerance policy for that kind of discriminatory harassment."