Page 36

It wasn’t the sunlight streaming across the floor that woke me. It hadn’t even been my dad’s snores, which had reached an impressive crescendo as he sprawled belly-up near the hearth.

No, what pulled me from the depths of sleep was the knock.

Persistent.

Loud.

A sound that nudged into the edges of my dream like it belonged there—gentle, steady, familiar .

And then I heard it.

His voice.

“Maeve?” It wasn’t loud or urgent, but it was threaded with that husky morning warmth and a hint of amusement.

It sank through me like thunder, and suddenly he was everywhere in my mind. Standing in the corridors of my dreams, smiling like he knew every secret I hadn’t dared to speak. The smirk and confidence oozing from Keegan swept me into the dream state again when I realized it wasn’t a dream.

I bolted upright.

The knock came again.

I blinked.

“Keegan,” I whispered, the sleep still tangling in my limbs.

It was him.

Not a dream.

I tumbled out of bed, with my heart racing for reasons that had very little to do with magic and very much to do with the man currently waiting on the other side of the door. I scrambled for my robe, tying it hastily around my waist as I padded barefoot across the stone floor.

My dad snorted awake, lifted his head, then promptly dropped it back down with a grunt.

Some guard dog.

I cracked open the door, and there he was.

Keegan.

Leaning slightly to one side, hands in his coat pockets, hair tousled like he hadn’t bothered to tame it after sleep. His smile bloomed when he saw me, that slow, lopsided grin that somehow made my heart skip and my knees weaken.

“And here I was worried I’d be the one late,” he said.

I laughed, breathless and still tangled in the remnants of dreaming.

Of him.

“No. You’re on time. I’m just… I haven’t slept that solidly in weeks. Maybe months.”

“Good,” he said, his gaze warming. “You needed it.”

I stepped back and waved him in, already trying not to trip over my own nervous energy.

“Come in. Give me fifteen minutes. And you,” I turned to my dad, who had cracked one eye open in mild annoyance, “keep him company.”

Keegan chuckled and crouched beside Frank as I ducked into the bathroom.

I heard him mutter something like, “Guess it’s a boys’ club now,” and my dad’s snort of agreement made me smile.

I turned the shower on and stepped under the hot spray, letting the water ease the tightness in my chest.

It’s happening.

Today, I would step into the calling path not alone, but still into the unknown.

I scrubbed my skin, trying not to let the nerves build. The water helped a little. So did the rhythmic thrum of the pipes, the faint scent of the rose shampoo, but knowing Keegan was only a few feet away made my heart speed a little faster.

I dried off quickly, towel wrapped around my hair, and pulled on a soft tunic and leather boots. Functional. Simple. The kind of thing someone should wear when facing ancient magic that might test the very fabric of one’s soul.

My hands trembled slightly as I fastened the buttons.

Steady, Maeve.

You’ve walked into worse.

You’ve lived through worse.

And this time, you’re not walking alone.

When I reentered the room, Keegan was sitting by the window with my dad sprawled at his feet, snoring like a thundercloud.

Keegan looked up, eyes catching mine, but there was a stillness in his expression I hadn’t seen before.

“You ready?” he asked.

Almost.

Not quite.

But I nodded anyway.

“Yeah,” I said softly. “Thanks for waiting.”

“I’d wait longer if you needed,” he said.

I smiled as I crossed the room to grab my coat. “If you keep saying things like that, I’m going to take you up on it.”

He stood slowly, stretching a little, his arms raised above his head, then dropped them with a grin. “Only for you.”

I rolled my eyes, but the smile wouldn’t leave my face.

He offered his arm, not in a grand gesture, but in a quiet one.

And I took it.

“You know,” Keegan said as we turned the corner near the solarium, “if you suddenly decided to bail on this whole mystical path thing and just spend the day in the tea shop pretending we were normal people, I wouldn’t judge.”

I shot him a look. “You’d be disappointed.”

He shrugged. “Nothing you could do could disappoint me.”

I laughed, and it loosened something in my chest. “You’re good at lifting me up.”

“I’m not pretending,” he said, glancing sideways at me. “Are you scared?”

That silenced me for a beat.

“I don’t think so.” Then I caught his gaze.

“Good.”

“You’re scared for me, though.”

“I’m careful about the things I care about,” he said simply.

My heart did a little stutter. “That’s dangerously close to romantic.”

His grin was slow, a little smug. “I’m aware.”

We passed two students carrying stacks of potion flasks between them. One tripped over the other’s shoes and almost dropped a bottle, but caught it mid-air with a muttered charm. They didn’t even notice us.

“Do you think they know how lucky they are?” I asked, watching them disappear around the corner.

“To be here?”

“To be in this place. At this moment. Learning. Alive.”

Keegan was quiet for a moment. “I think they’re just trying to make it to lunch without exploding anything.”

I smiled. “True. There’ll come a time when they’re needed.”

“Agreed.”

“Someday, the Academy will call for their help, and the curse will weaken with each student’s talents.”

Keegan smiled as his gaze met mine. “There’s no one better to be headmistress.”

We reached the hallway that led to the garden doors, and I slowed again. The light from outside poured across the stone like a warm invitation.

“What if it shows me something I’m not ready to see?”

Keegan turned to face me fully.

“Then I’ll be right there beside you. Until the path says otherwise.”

“And when it does?”

He stepped closer, his voice quiet. “Then I’ll wait at the edge until you come back. No matter how long it takes.”

I looked up at him, that old magnetic pull between us flaring again.

“You’re very irritating, you know that?”

He smiled. “Yeah. But you like that about me.”

I sighed dramatically. “Unfortunately.”

Then, after a beat, I added, “Thank you.”

“For being irritating?”

“For being here.”

His expression softened. “Always.”

And with that, we stepped outside together. The late winter air fought with the timid spring winds, and a shiver ran through me, but we both knew it had nothing to do with the temperature.

We passed through the grounds with the hush of dew underfoot and the scent of rosemary and turned earth curling in the air. Birds called lazily from the hedge tops, not urgent, just present, and I couldn’t help but smile when I thought about what Twobble told me.

Birds weren’t singing, they were gossiping.

But today, even nature seemed to be holding its breath.

Keegan walked beside me, close enough that our arms brushed every few steps. We didn’t speak now. The time for talking had passed because what waited ahead didn’t need more words.

As we rounded the final bend in the garden, the path rose into view, and with it, the two figures stationed at its threshold.

Lady Limora stood with her usual impeccable posture, her cloak draped like a spill of midnight ink down her back. Opal was beside her, cloak drawn but eyes bright, the long braid down her back catching hints of sunlight with every small shift of her shoulders.

The calling path pulsed behind them, and it was still beautiful and still waiting.

They both turned as we approached.

“Well,” Opal said, her voice pitched low but full of interest. “We weren’t expecting you both.”

Lady Limora’s gaze slid to Keegan and then back to me, her expression unreadable. “Are you sure it’s time?”

I drew in a breath, steadying myself. “Yes. The path has waited long enough.”

Limora stepped aside with slow grace. “Then it will welcome you. For however long you’re meant to walk it.”

“And him?” Opal asked, tilting her head at Keegan with amusement in her eyes.

Keegan didn’t answer. He just looked at me.

“I’m not going alone,” I said simply.

There was a moment’s pause, and then Lady Limora nodded. “It may not let him stay, but he may begin with you. Such paths honor intent.”

Opal stepped back with a smirk. “He looks like he has plenty of that.”

Keegan gave her a wink.

I tried not to laugh, nerves knotting tighter in my stomach.

The path shimmered again, brighter now, almost aware, and somehow… patient.

“Anything we should know?” I asked quietly.

Lady Limora looked past me for a moment, toward the sky. “You will not come back the same.”

“That’s the idea,” I said.

Then Keegan turned to her, more serious now. “If she’s gone too long—”

“She won’t be lost,” Limora said. “The path doesn’t keep what doesn’t belong. It merely reveals.”

Opal added, “We’ll be here. The whole time.”

I nodded and turned back to the path as we began.

It was narrow at first, threaded between tall, dew-drenched grasses, lined with wildflowers that hadn’t bloomed yesterday. The shimmer hovered just above it like fog and light braided together, pulsing gently like a heartbeat. There was no door, archway, or declaration.

Just… beginning.

Keegan looked at me. “Last chance to back out.”

I gave him a look. “You first.”

He offered his arm.

I took it.

And together, we stepped forward.

The moment our feet crossed the threshold, the world changed.

The garden didn’t vanish, but it quieted as if someone had drawn a veil between us and the waking world. The sound of birds gossiping dulled.

The warmth of the sun turned cooler, gentler. The scent of the earth became richer, like old forests and rain-washed stones.

We walked side by side in silence, the grass growing longer with every step as if it were planning on enveloping us with each unknown step.

The path wasn’t a tunnel, but the world seemed to narrow with softer edges and richer colors as the sky overhead deepened into a shade of blue I’d never seen before.

Keegan said nothing.

Neither did I.

Words didn’t feel useful here.

The path curved slightly, winding through a field I didn’t recognize, though it felt familiar. Wildflowers grew in patches, their colors impossibly vivid. Petals curled as we passed, opening to us. A dragonfly buzzed past and then vanished into thin air like it had never existed at all.

Everything knew we were here.

Every leaf, every blade of grass.

Then came the first flicker.

A shape, like a shadow, but soft and reflective, flashed. For a second, I thought it was someone walking ahead of us. But when I blinked, it was gone.

I inhaled sharply.

Keegan looked over, and I felt his fingers tighten around my hand without grabbing, only anchoring.

I gave him a quick nod. “I saw something.”

He didn’t ask what. He just kept walking with me.

The path curved again.

We passed a tree with silver bark and no leaves, though the ground beneath it was littered with pale petals. The trunk shimmered faintly, as if it were made of memory.

Then another flicker erupted, but this time to my right.

A girl.

Dark hair. Laughter on her lips.

Gone before I could place her.

But my chest ached like I should know her.

I stumbled slightly.

Keegan’s hand caught my elbow.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said breathlessly. “It’s just… it’s starting.”

He nodded, but the concern in his eyes didn’t fade.

“I don’t think you’re going to see what I see,” I said. “Miora warned me.”

“I didn’t come to see it,” he said softly. “I came to be here while you did.”

The path narrowed again, and the shimmer grew thicker.

I felt it now, not just beneath my feet, but in my pulse. In my breath. In the magic I’d yet to harness or understand . It wasn’t pulling me forward.

It was mirroring me.

With every step, I felt it stretch ahead like a reflection of my fear, my own need, my wondering.

And behind us, the way back to the beginning had misted over in a distant trail.

I looked at Keegan, taking him in as his steady gaze remained on me. His grounding presence was so deeply appreciated.

The fact that even here, in a place meant only for me, he didn’t feel out of place.

He felt necessary.

I stopped walking.

“So this is where it’ll split,” I said quietly.

He studied me for a beat. “You sure?”

“No.” I laughed softly. “But I feel it as if the ground knows something’s about to change.”

He let go of my hand.

But he didn’t step back.

“You don’t have to say anything,” I said.

“I’ll be here when you return.”

“What if I don’t?”

“You will.”

“How do you know?”

His gaze was steady and sure. “Because I believe in you more than you believe in yourself.”

Tears stung at the edges of my vision, fast and unwelcome.

“Keegan—”

“Go,” he said gently.

And I did.

I stepped forward.

And the path swallowed me whole.