Page 72 of Heir of Shadows

Raven leaned forward, eyes widening. “Wait, what? The wellspring sent for you?”

“I don’t know.” I hesitated, glancing between them. This wasn’t something I’d talked about with anyone, not even Keane. But Raven and Lucas weren’t like the heirs. They wouldn’t twist this against me. “Ms. Parker said the wellspring ‘called me home.’ She made it sound like a legacy thing, because of my father. But now I’m not so sure.”

I glanced down, brushing my thumb over the edge of the table, hesitating. “After the trials… something weird happened. I found a journal on my shelf. I’d never seen it before, but it had my father’s name inside—his handwriting, his spells, his thoughts.” My voice dropped. “No one could’ve put it there. My room’s magically sealed. But it was just... there. Waiting. Like it had been placed for me.”

Raven’s mouth parted slightly, eyes wide.

Lucas leaned forward, curiosity flickering before his expression turned serious. “If your room is warded, and no one else could’ve gotten in…” He paused, thinking. “If the wellspring really did call you home—then maybe it didn’t just summon you. Maybe it’s… guiding you. Giving you tools.”

He tapped his textbook, voice picking up speed. “There are records of wellsprings calling witches during times of instability. It’s rare, but not unheard of. If the wellspring sensed danger or corruption, it might’ve reached out to you not just because of your necromancy—but because it wants you to do something about it.”

“Your dad’s legacy might have something to do with it too,” Raven added.

The mention of my father made my stomach twist. I pressed a hand to my chest, feeling the cold weight of the ring beneath my shirt. The dead things stirred softly in the walls, their whispers laced with unease.

“That would explain the weirdness in the trials,” Lucas continued. “If the wellspring’s corruption is affecting magical stability, it could be why your magic’s been acting up—and why Keane’s portals have been… off.”

I flinched at the mention of Keane’s magic. They didn’t know about us, but Lucas had hit closer to the truth than he realized.

Keane’s magic hadn’t felt right for weeks, but after the trials, I could no longer convince myself it was just stress. His uncle had called him away, and when he came back, it was worse. Something was being done to him.

“So, what do we do?” I asked quietly.

“We keep digging,” Raven said. “There’s gotta be more info on this in the archives. Maybe even something about your dad’s connection to the wellspring.”

Lucas nodded. “Agreed. If the Council’s hiding something, we need to find out what.”

A spark of determination flared in my chest. I wasn’t facing this alone. Raven and Lucas had my back. Together, we’d uncover the truth—no matter how deep the corruption ran.

The lecture hall’scurved ceiling reflected the dim afternoon light filtering through Wickem’s enchanted windows, giving the space a muted, overcast glow. I settled into my usual seat near the back as Scout clicked quietly on my shoulder, his small claws pressing into my uniform as if sensing my tension. Raven and Lucas flanked me, their notebooks already open, ready to dig into whatever information we could find.

“Think this’ll help with your dad’s diary?” Raven whispered, pretending to scribble notes.

“Maybe.” I twisted the ring around my neck. “That letter he left was vague, but if there’s anything about wellsprings or old Council politics, I might get more context.”

Lucas adjusted his glasses, scanning the syllabus. “History tends to repeat itself. The trick is recognizing the patterns.”

“Which is easier when you aren’t relying on a Council-approved version of events,” Raven muttered. I snorted, but didn’t disagree.

Professor Halloway entered, setting down a stack of books before addressing the class. “Today, we’re continuing our discussion on ley lines and magical stabilization. Turn to chapter seven.”

The sound of pages turning filled the hall. I flipped to the section, my pulse kicking up at the title:The Era of Broken Lines.

“The period following the Great Accord saw one of the largest recorded instances of ley line destabilization,” Halloway said. “For decades, magical scholars debated the cause, but the leading theory suggests a combination of overuse, unregulated wellspring manipulation, and external magical pressures.”

My fingers tightened around the edge of my book.Unregulated wellspring manipulation?That sounded eerily familiar.

“During this time, wellsprings across multiple continents experienced surges that altered their behavior. Certain spells failed outright, while others—necromantic spells, in particular—became dangerously amplified.”

A ripple of interest passed through the students, and I felt more than saw Elio shift slightly in his seat. Across the room, Keane sat perfectly still, his posture measured. He wasn’t looking at me. Wasn’t reacting. But I knew him well enough now to see the tension in the way his hands rested on his desk, too still, too precise.

“This era also saw the emergence of factions who sought to control or redirect ley line energy for political gain,” Halloway continued, carefully neutral. “While the official records cite natural causes, some evidence suggests more deliberate interference.”

A silence settled over the room, thick with unspoken thoughts.

“Are you implying someone caused the instability?” A student near the front asked, frowning.

“The records we have suggest multiple possibilities,” Halloway answered smoothly. “It’s always important to examine historical trends with a critical lens.”

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