Miranda only stared up at the white, stone walls of the castle, silent.
My eyes followed hers.
That time, it sank in just how high those walls stretched. I’d never seen a stone building that tall, and it was likely just one of the structure’s wings.
I pulled my map out of my satchel. As I’d suspected, the map had transformed, too.
I nudged Draken to show him. Miranda and Luc stopped to stare, as well. The four of us studied the three-dimensional depiction of the Academy’s full grounds, our jaws probably hitting our chests.
“There are thirteen main buildings,” I said in awe. I pointed at another section, which moved as if alive. “Our college is over here now, near the main structure. Our rooms moved, too, Miranda… do you see? We’re still on the same floor with one another, but now we’re on the seventh, not the second…”
Miranda pointed to a different landmark, one I hadn’t yet noticed.
“There’s a river through the center of the grounds,” she said quietly.
“And a lake, over there,” Draken pointed out.
“We must be here,” Miranda added, tracing the avenue through the woods. “They call this ‘The Promenade.’ It cuts through the center of the grounds, all the way to the East Gate. And those must be the Skyhunt fields…”
“Skyhunt?” I asked, puzzled.
“It’s a game,” Draken said, distracted. “That must be my dorm room there, then, assuming the assigned room numbers stayed the same. So we’re all still in the same college, and in the same building. I’m closer to you two on this map, only one floor below you and Leda, Mir, and four above Luc.”
“Still two to a room?” Miranda asked.
“Yes,” said Luc.
“Well, thank Isis for that,” the witch muttered.
“What are these?” I asked, aiming a finger at a row of long, narrow buildings not far from the east side of Vulcan Lake. They were labeled as a single structure, but actually formed four separate structures, clustered close together but set apart from everything else. From the whispers of light they emanated, they also appeared to be heavily shielded by magic.
More “chimeras,” as Luc would say.
“They must be the experimental magic ranges?” Luc guessed. “For sparring, untried rituals, new spells, dangerous magic, and so on.”
I nodded without taking my eyes off the long structures.
Luc’s explanation made sense. They looked a bit like shooting ranges, like something she might have seen in Overworld for setting off small bombs or heavy artillery. On this version of the map, all but one shed had been partitioned into multiple cells.
I discovered that if I concentrated hard enough on any room or corridor, it would zoom into focus, giving me a near-photographic view. If I pushed a little magic into my stare, the amphitheater or common area or coffee kiosk became trulyalive. It didn’t show people’s faces, but I could definitely see forms moving around the space. Assuming they were based on actual people, and not simply added color, I should be able to get some idea of how full or empty a space might be at a given time.
The sheer level of detail was mesmerizing.
I saw velvet armchairs and silk pillows, the brush strokes on paintings and the hand-painted mantle clock, marble faces of statues lining a hallway that ran the length of an entire wing of the central building. Visible steam curled from the espresso machine just off the vast foyer, flames leapt in grates, filling the mouth of stone fireplaces tall enough I could stand inside them. Smoke wafted from a pipe sitting in a stand on one of the upper balconies.
I found Worm Hall in the wing directly in front of us.
That building alone held dozens of labeled offices, classrooms, and meeting areas, including whole lecture halls that lived underground, and a common area that took up most of the second and third floors of the east wing. Lined with windows, its high walls were flanked on either side by fireplaces fashioned from river stones, marble sideboards and tables carved with mythological creatures and decorated with gold hieroglyphs.
Couches, chairs, study tables, carpets, paintings, and lamps filled the inviting space; it also had one full wall dedicated to shelf after shelf of thick reference books.
Worm Hall was another high-ceilinged gathering space, significantly more formal than the common room and filled with larger-than-life marble statues of gods. It took up most of the ground floor of the west wing, and stretched up at least three stories high.
“We’d better get a move on,” Luc said, glancing at his watch. “It’s nearly six-thirty.”
We all sped our footsteps towards the building where our trunks and other luggage should be waiting in our assigned rooms. We passed the massive courtyard at the center of the main building, and I saw students already streaming inside, wearing formal robes.
“They call it Malcroix Mansion on the map,” Miranda pointed out as we passed.
