Page 58 of Shadowed Fate

A soft knock at the door breaks through my spiraling thoughts. I freeze, scared that it’s Lochan back after a few hours for another round of ‘Brigid is evil incarnate and I’m gonna prove it’.

"Who is it?"

"It's Eira. May I come in?"

My shoulders relax slightly at the sound of her voice. I open the door. Her genuine smile is a welcome interruption. It’s nice that at least three people in this academy don’t hate me and will still talk to me after the ball. I haven’t seen Callen yet so jury’s out on him.

"Hey," I mumble, stepping aside to let her in. "What's up?"

Eira glides into the room, light on her feet. "I thought you could use some company. You seemed troubled earlier. I saw you leave the dining hall."

I snort, flopping onto my bed. "Troubled is an understatement. This place is driving me insane."

Eira perches on the edge of my desk, her eyes filled with understanding. "I know the feeling. Grimstone isn't exactly welcoming to those who don't fit the mold."

"You don't seem to have any trouble fitting in," I mutter, picking at a loose thread on my cuff.

A sad smile plays on Eira's lips. "Appearances can be deceiving. Being an owl-shifter comes with its own set of challenges. Not sure if you’ve noticed, but when you think ‘shifter’, an owl isn’t necessarily what comes to mind. Panther, sure. Wolf, absolutely. Feathers and beaks? Not so much."

I study her face, searching for any sign of pity. But all I see is a weariness that mirrors my own. "How do you deal with it?"

"I seek knowledge," Eira says softly. "There's power in understanding yourself and your abilities."

"What do you mean?"

Eira leans forward, her voice dropping to a whisper. “This building holds a lot secrets, Brigid. Including an off-limits archive that might have answers about your shadow magic."

"An archive? Where?"

"It's not easy to get to," Eira warns. "But if you're interested, I might know someone who’s been there once or twice and knows how to get in,” she says, aiming for slyness and failing. She practically bounces and her face is lit up like a Christmas tree. “There are so many artifacts, and books and bits and pieces of knowledge! If there’s information to be found, it’s there that we’ll find it.”

I stand up, my earlier exhaustion forgotten. "Show me."

Eira's eyes widen. "Now? It's dangerous, Brigid. If we're caught..."

"I don't care," I interrupt. "I'm sick of everyone treating me like I could turn into Voldemort at any minute."

Eira hesitates for a moment, then nods. "Well, I don't know what that is, but alright." I'm not sure if I'm more surprised that she doesn't know who Voldemort is or that she agreed to take me to the archives. "Follow me. And stay close.”

We slip out of my room, and I follow Eira’s lead.

She moves with a hushed silence, her footsteps barely audible against the stone floors. We walk for a long time, down corridors I’ve never been through, down stairs that shift imperceptibly. This part of the academy looks even older than the rest of the building. There are no windows, and the only illumination comes from the greenish glow coming from orbs in sconces set into the walls at intervals.

I flinch at a sudden creak. "How much farther?” It’s super creepy down here, and I’m not easily unnerved by creepy things.

Eira's eyes, huge in the dimness, flick towards me. "Not far. Stay close."

My skin crawls.

"I feel like we're being watched," I mutter.

"We probably are," Eira replies, her voice barely a breath. "But we're almost there." She grabs my hand. "It's okay," she says.

I nod, swallowing hard. We round another corner and Eira stops abruptly, running her fingers along a seemingly blank stretch of wall.

“What are you—“ I start, but my words die as a hidden door swings open with a sigh.

Eira tugs me forward. "Quickly."

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