Thornhill Academy (By Sheridan Hartin) novel Chapter 17

Everything I Never Dreamed Of.

The next stop was impossible to miss. The furniture shop rose like a patchwork tower at the far end of the street, its windows stacked unevenly, every pane glowing in a different colour. The sign above the door shimmered and rearranged itself with every blink: Furnishings, Enchantments, Home Essentials, Dreams. The moment we stepped inside, I nearly staggered. It was chaos. The best kind of chaos. Sofas drifted lazily in the air like balloons, curtains whispered to each other when you walked by, and rugs rolled themselves across the floor in an attempt to be noticed. Lamps flickered in bursts of soft light, competing like fireflies, while mirrors leaned toward customers to show them flattering reflections.

Tessa grabbed my hand before I could get swallowed by it all. “Okay. First things first: bathroom. We need a renovation box.”

The clerk, a squat gnome with round glasses, waddled over and produced a small crate no bigger than a lunchbox. It glowed faintly, etched with runes. “Standard Bath & Wash,” he said, tapping it. “Plumbing, tiling, sink, shower, the works. Just open it where you want it, and stand clear.”

“Perfect,” Tessa declared, tucking it into our cart. Then her eyes widened. “Wait, kitchen too. You’ve got the space.”

And just like that, another glowing crate joined the pile, this one humming with the faint scent of herbs and roasted bread. From there, it was impossible to stop. We picked out a thick, soft carpet, black with silver threads that glittered faintly when the light hit, like stars scattered underfoot. A bed that all but sang when you touched it, promising perfect sleep. The headboard shaped itself into whatever design you liked; I pressed my hand to it, and it moulded into the sharp curves of black wings. Curtains that rippled with shifting colours, deep midnight one second, crimson the next. Lamps that adjusted their glow to match your mood (Tessa squealed when one warmed pink in her hands). Desks with drawers that whispered their contents to you if you forgot where you’d put something. Chairs that shifted their cushioning to cradle you just right. And then, the crown jewel. A roof enchantment crystal, glittering in a velvet- lined case. The clerk explained with no small amount of pride, “Set it into the ceiling, and the roof becomes transparent. You’ll see the stars at night, the sunrise in the morning, even the rain falling, but you’ll stay perfectly dry.”

Tessa clasped her hands to her chest. “You have to get it, Allison.”

I bought it without hesitation.

By the time we wandered to the back of the store, our cart was stacked high with everything I’d never dreamed of owning. Bookcases that adjusted their height to fit however many tomes you crammed in. Actual books, rows of them, glittering with magical ink. Enchanted blankets that warmed themselves. A tiny kettle that brewed tea at the exact temperature you wanted. Tessa chattered the whole way, her braid swinging as she bounced from shelf to shelf. Sometimes she’d hold something up and wrinkle her nose, sometimes her eyes would linger a little too long before she set it back. Every time she looked away, I added it to the pile. A delicate silver lamp shaped like a rabbit. A fluffy blanket that smelled faintly of clover. A set of glass jars charmed to keep herbs fresh forever.

When she noticed later, she gasped. “Allison! You didn’t have to!”

“I wanted to,” I cut in, sharper than I meant, then softer. “You’ve been… kind. No one’s ever…” My throat tightened. “You’re my first friend.”

Tessa’s eyes glistened, and then she threw her arms around me in a hug so fierce it nearly knocked me into a display of enchanted candlesticks.

“Then we’re even,” she whispered into my shoulder.

By the time we paid, we were both laughing, staggering under the weight of bags that floated around us, enchanted to follow wherever we went.

The van looked like it was on the verge of splitting its seams. Thankfully, the clerk had shrunk most of the big pieces down to palm–sized tokens, each glowing faintly with a rune.

“Just put them in place and say unlock,” the gnome had explained, wagging his finger. “Don’t do it in the van, unless you want a sofa exploding out the windows.”

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Everything I Never Dreamed Of.

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So into the rattling minivan they went. Tessa shut the door with a huff and leaned against it, grinning ear to ear. Her eyes glittered as she looked at me.

‘I’m not done yet,” I said, smiling back at her.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” she squealed, bouncing on her toes. “Clothes, right? Please tell me you’re thinking of clothes!”

I barked out a laugh, shaking my head. “Actually, I was going to say food.”

Her mouth dropped open before she let out an over–dramatic groan.

“Food? After all this? That’s so practical it hurts.”

I smirked, glancing up at the dimming sky. The lanterns strung between the streets were already glowing, the scent of roasted nuts and sweet bread thick in

the air. “Well, it’s probably dinner time back at the Academy, and I’m starving. But…” I nudged her with my shoulder, “We can do clothes first. Then food.”

Tessa squealed again, grabbing my hand and tugging me toward the nearest row of boutiques. “Deal! And Allison, trust me, we’re going to get you out of

those stuffy uniforms when you’re not in class. You’ve got the figure for it.”

I groaned. “I think I regret this already.“”

But my lips betrayed me, tugging into a smile as she pulled me along.

The clothing shops were a blur of colour and fabric and enchanted mirrors that lied in the nicest possible ways. Tessa practically skipped between racks, shoving outfits into my arms faster than I could argue. Dresses that shimmered when you spun. Boots that adjusted perfectly to your stride. Hoodies woven from cloud–soft threads that warmed themselves. I’d never felt anything like it. The fabrics were so soft, so delicate, I half–expected them to dissolve the second I touched them. Every time I tried to put something back, Tessa gave me that wide–eyed look that said Don’t you dare, and somehow another pile

Tessa gave me ended up in my arms. By the time we staggered out, my new enchanted bag was groaning, but not physically. The little rune stitched into the leather made everything weigh the same, no matter how much you shoved in. Clothes piled inside, and the bag stayed light as a feather on my shoulder.

By then, the lanterns strung along the streets glowed soft gold, the scent of roasted meats and spiced bread heavy in the cool night air. My stomach grumbled loudly enough that Tessa laughed and grabbed my wrist, pulling me toward a food stall glowing with heat. We loaded up on paper–wrapped parcels, meats dripping with sauce, roasted vegetables charmed to stay hot, and little pastries that glittered faintly with sugar enchantments.

“Come on,” Tessa said, her braid bouncing as she marched us toward the van. “We’ll eat while we set up your room. Best way to end the day.”

I hugged the warm food to my chest, grinning despite myself.