We turned back to the towering entrance gates, still unsure how we were going to get them open.
"Are we sure we want to go in?" Dorian asked, his voice low.
"I mean, do we even have a choice?" Shawn muttered. "There's a gang of shapeshifting guards after us, a woman who wears other people's faces, and the police." He paused. "And honestly, the police are the least of our problems." For once, he wasn't being sarcastic.
Dorian nodded slowly. "But what are we supposed to do here? Is there even a class to attend?"
"We'll figure it out after I open these mighty gates." Shawn rolled up his sleeves, bracing himself. He pulled back, ready to shove the doors open with all his strength.
But before he could touch them, a tall guy with tight curls and piercing green eyes stepped forward. He whispered, "Rivaxe," and the gates glided open without a sound.
Shawn, mid-charge, stumbled straight to the ground.
The stranger let out a sharp laugh as Cris reached out to help Shawn up, fighting a grin.
"Nope, no class right now," the guy said with a smile. "But there's a party tonight. You could call it a Homecoming Party—for Zinnia Paragon and her friends."
We stared at him, not quite sure what to make of him.
"My apologies," he added with a graceful bow. "I'm Ryan."
Cris eyed him from head to toe. "Are you a prince or something?"
"What? Ha! No way—I'm just trying to be polite. There's no royalty here… unless you count the cold-blooded Crow Queen," Ryan muttered, shooting a glance at a girl standing in the distance.
My stomach dropped the moment I saw her. My eyes widened.
"What is it?" Cris asked.
"That's her—the bully I told you about." My jaw clenched.
"You know Robin?" Ryan raised an eyebrow.
"We met on a flight," I muttered, keeping my eyes locked on her.
She stood with three girls flanking her, like handpicked soldiers. When her gaze landed on me, her smile twisted into something sharp and venomous.
She stalked over like a storm brewing. "Didn't I tell you not to come here?" she hissed.
"And I'm pretty sure I made it clear—I don't take orders from people who play queen in a school hallway." I rolled my eyes.
Her jaw tightened, fists curling, but one of her girls gently touched her shoulder. "She's not worth it, Robs," she said with a sugary smile.
Robin looked like she might explode, but then scoffed, flipping her hair. "Whatever. Eat that dirt." She raised her brows in a mock pout and strutted off.
"That went… well," Ryan smirked. "You guys must be exhausted. Let's get you to your rooms."
As we followed him, the school came alive around us. A boy with silver hair touched a vase—it crumbled into dust. A girl sat on a bench reading while food floated from her tray into her mouth, bite by bite. Another guy sprinted up a wall with a crowd cheering him on like it was just another Tuesday.
Whatever this place was—it wasn't normal. And somehow, it felt like the beginning of something huge.
A girl ahead of us was doing backflips—but with each one, she soared higher. First on the ground, then midair, then far above our heads like gravity had lost interest in her. Meanwhile, we huddled like nervous sheep surrounded by dragons, just waiting for the sky to crack open and chase us down.
Before we knew it, we reached our rooms.
"Take care of yourselves," Ryan said with a grin. "And beware of the Crow Queen."
"The Queen you're scared of?" Cris raised a brow.
"Scared?" Ryan chuckled, circling her slowly. "She's just Robin." Then he leaned close, whispering behind her ear. "Not the High Mage at the top of the tower." He stepped back, grinning.
"Mage? What Mage?" Cris snapped.
"Oh, he's a good man… very good. But if he *sees* something—never mind. You wouldn't want that." His voice dipped, teasing, full of warning.
"It's a good thing they keep him locked away otherwise," he added with a sly look.
"Otherwise what?" Cris's voice had lost its edge. A sliver of fear slipped in.
"Better if you find out yourself. Unless you're scared." He delivered that line like a seasoned actor—dark, dramatic, and absolutely enjoying himself.
"No one's scared!" Cris barked, glaring at him, fists clenched.
Ryan only smiled. "Sleep on it. You've been through hell today. Pick something sharp for tonight's party—you'll want to look your best, and then decide if you want to meet the High Mage."
He stepped back with a wink. "And it's okay to be scared."
Cris growled under her breath. "He's making my blood boil."
"Remember what Sheriff said?" I leaned in. "Stay friends with Ryan."
Ryan caught the whisper and flashed us a devilish grin. "I should check on the party prep." He bowed dramatically, winked at Cris again, and turned away.
"Don't forget to take us to the Mage, *Prince!*" Cris called mockingly after him.
Ryan's laugh echoed down the hall.
The rooms we were given were beautiful. The beds had large beige headboards with delicate floral carvings, and the soft sheets and pillows were edged with matching embroidery. Comforters were neatly layered on top.
To the right of the bed, a pointed-arch window sat just below the ceiling, its base high enough to perch on, wide enough for two. On the left stood a matching dressing table with a full-length mirror, flanked by beige desks with white drawers and floral-handled knobs. It was stocked with luxurious makeup and skincare—everything a woman could dream of in one place.
Next to it, a hidden compartment in the wall opened with a turn of a handle, revealing rows of neatly arranged footwear. The door we entered from was to the left, and just beyond that, another sturdy door caught my eye.
Opening it revealed a walk-in wardrobe filled with various outfits, and at the far end, a mirror nestled between them.
The entire room was captivating, but it was the cozy bed that truly pulled me in. The moment we lay down, we drifted off, despite knowing we were surrounded by strangers.
Evening came with a knock. I struggled to open my eyes, slipped off the bed, and quickly stood, embarrassed. Rushing to the door, I called out, "Who is it?"
"It's me, Zee! Open up!"
It was Cris. As soon as I opened the door, there she was—dolled up in a red off-shoulder gown, winged eyeliner, and loose hair cascading down her back. She twirled, showing off with a bright smile. "How do I look?"
Watching her smile like that made me feel warm.
"Woah! Gorgeous!" I giggled.
"And you," she said, eyeing me from head to toe, "are still a mess." She smirked, then pointed. "Go get ready and catch me in the hall!" With that, she rushed off down the walkway.
I went back inside, freshened up, and opened the wardrobe. My fingers trailed over the hanging dresses, one after another, until they stopped on a turquoise blue gown with a mermaid tail and a floral hem.
Something about it pulled me in. I took it out and slipped it on.
Standing before the mirror, I smiled, spinning slowly, giggling as the gown twisted with me. But the moment I stopped, my smile faded. My eyes locked onto my reflection, and suddenly, a flash from the past hit me: Isn't this exactly how I was spinning while getting ready for my parents' anniversary?