Chapter 8

Freya POV

We emerged from the Headmaster's tower onto a landing platform, and I stopped short at the view that greeted me. The air was calm and surprisingly pleasant, carrying the faint scent of something floral I couldn't identify.

Soft golden light bathed the platform, though I still couldn't figure out where it was coming from—the sky above held both sun and stars simultaneously, as if the Academy existed in some pocket of reality where day and night had agreed to coexist peacefully.

The inverted mountain ranges I'd glimpsed from Draven's back stretched out before us, their massive peaks hanging upside-down like some kind of cosmic chandelier, bases lost in gentle swirls of mist that caught the light and turned it into something almost ethereal.

It was beautiful in a way that made my chest ache, the kind of beauty that shouldn't exist but somehow did.

It would have been perfect if I wasn't absolutely terrified of the drop beyond the platform's edge.

"What's this?" I managed to say, staring at what looked like an enormous leaf—easily six feet across—that had materialized at the edge of the platform. It was deep green and veined like a real leaf, but it hovered in the air with unnatural stillness, as if waiting.

"It's the standard method of transportation at the Academy," Edward said, stepping onto the leaf with the casual ease of someone stepping onto solid ground. He turned back to me, one hand extended. "These leaves disappear the moment they touch down, and reappear beneath your feet when you need them. It's more reliable than it looks."

I stared at his outstretched hand, then at the leaf, then at the vast emptiness beyond the platform's edge.

I took a breath that did absolutely nothing to calm my racing heart, reached out, and let him pull me onto the leaf.

The moment my feet touched its surface, the leaf dipped slightly, and I let out an embarrassing yelp, my hands immediately clutching at Edward's arm. The leaf stabilized almost instantly, but my heart was hammering so hard I could feel it in my throat, and my legs had gone weak and shaky.

"I've got you," Edward said quietly, and I realized he'd moved his arm so that I was gripping his forearm with both hands, his other hand steady at my elbow. "Just don't look down."

"Too late," I whispered, because of course I'd already looked down, my brain helpfully cataloguing all the ways this could go catastrophically wrong. The leaf could dissolve. The wind could blow us off course. We could just... fall. "This is insane. This is completely insane."

"Close your eyes if you need to," he said, and then the leaf began to move.

I did close my eyes, for about five seconds, before my curiosity got the better of my terror and I forced them open again. We were gliding through the air with surprising smoothness, the wind whipping my hair across my face as we passed between the inverted mountain ranges I'd glimpsed from Draven's back.

We'd been flying for maybe two minutes when I felt it—a sudden chill that seemed to seep into my bones, raising goosebumps along my arms despite the fact that the air temperature hadn't changed.

I shivered involuntarily, my teeth nearly chattering as the cold intensified, spreading from my skin inward until I felt like I'd been plunged into ice water.

"Why is it getting cold suddenly?" I managed to ask through gritted teeth, my hands tightening on Edward's arm.

"Probably a frost elf casting nearby," Edward said, glancing around as if he could pinpoint the source. "The wind carries their magical elements everywhere. You're human—you're more sensitive to these fluctuations than most species here. Once you learn to use magic yourself, your body will adapt to the environmental changes."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak as another shiver wracked through me. The cold was getting worse, seeping deeper, and I found myself pressing closer to Edward without meaning to, seeking any source of warmth I could find.

He must have noticed my discomfort, because the next thing I knew, he was reaching for my hand and lacing his fingers through mine.

"Better now?" he asked, and there was something in his voice I couldn't quite identify. Concern, maybe. Or amusement at my reaction.

I realized, with a start, that I did feel better. The bone-deep chill had receded, replaced by a gentle warmth that seemed to radiate from where our hands were joined. My shivering had stopped, and the goosebumps on my arms were fading.

"Much better," I managed to say, my voice coming out slightly breathless. "Did you... is this magic?"

Edward lifted our joined hands slightly, and I caught the faintest shimmer of heat in the air around them—not visible, exactly, but something I could sense, like the way you can feel warmth radiating from a fire even before you touch it.

"Not magic," he said, barely a curve at the corner of his mouth. "Just fire elements. I'm letting them wrap around you. The cold can't reach you through them."

"Oh," I said, which was possibly the most intelligent response I'd ever managed. My face felt warm—too warm, actually, like I'd been standing too close to a heater.

It's just the fire elements, I told myself firmly. That's why my face is hot. That's why my heart is racing. It doesn't mean anything.

We flew in silence for another few minutes. The warmth continued to cocoon me, keeping the chill at bay, and I caught myself thinking that I wouldn't mind if this flight lasted a bit longer.

Then Edward's hand slipped free from mine, the warmth dissipating so quickly I nearly gasped at the sudden absence. "The temperature's normalized now," he said, his tone back to its usual matter-of-fact neutrality. "You should be fine."

"Right," I said, trying to ignore the strange sense of disappointment that settled in my chest. "Thanks."

The West Wing came into view ahead of us—a cluster of Gothic towers rising from what looked like a massive courtyard, their spires reaching toward the impossible sky.

As we drew closer, I could make out more details: the towers were built from dark stone, their walls covered in intricate carvings that might have been decorative or might have been magical runes, I couldn't tell. Arched windows glowed with warm light, and I could see the silhouettes of students moving within.

"Which one is mine?" I asked, studying the cluster of buildings. There had to be at least a dozen towers, all similar in style but varying in height and size.

Edward gestured toward the far edge of the courtyard, where one tower stood slightly apart from the others. It was built from the same dark stone, but something about it was... different. Wrong, maybe, though I couldn't immediately put my finger on why.

Then I noticed it—a faint shimmer in the air around the building, like heat waves rising from summer pavement, except this was more deliberate, more structured. Shapes moved within the shimmer, too fast and too strange for me to make out clearly.

"That's the Obsidian Annex," Edward said. "Your residence."

I stared at the isolated tower, at the strange shimmer surrounding it, and felt my stomach sink. "What is that? Around the building?"

"A barrier spell," Edward said. "The Headmaster's work."

I didn't ask why since I thought I wouldn't understand even if he explained it to me.

Our leaf was descending now, angling toward the courtyard, and I was just waiting for us to land safely when I saw it—another figure standing on a leaf in the distance, flying toward us from the opposite direction. They were moving at a steady pace, their silhouette growing larger as the gap between us closed.

Then I felt it—our leaf suddenly shifted course, drifting sideways to avoid the approaching figure. The movement was smooth but unexpected, and my body, which had just barely gotten used to the idea of standing on a floating piece of vegetation, completely failed to adjust. My weight shifted backward, my feet sliding on the leaf's surface, and for one heart-stopping moment I felt myself tipping, falling, with nothing but empty air behind me.

Next thing I knew, Edward's arm shot around my waist, pulling me forward against his chest with enough force that I gasped. His other hand came up to steady me, gripping my shoulder, and suddenly I was pressed against him, my hands clutching at his coat, my heart hammering so hard I was sure he could feel it.

"Watch out," he said quietly and then released me from his arms. "We should head to your room now. It's on the 7th floor."