Thornhill Academy (By Sheridan Hartin) novel Chapter 32

Not A Good Thief.

Kael.

By the time I crested the last flight, the stairwell narrowed and that’s when I saw it–a bed. A shitty, lopsided bed frame wedged halfway up the landing like

it had been abandoned mid–move. I stopped dead, staring at it, then at her.

“What the hell?” I asked flatly.

Her cheeks colored, eyes darting away. “Yeah… I haven’t exactly gotten around to removing those yet.”

Those?

Sure enough, just past the bed was an ancient wardrobe, crooked door hanging off its hinges, half blocking the rest of the stairwell like some final boss in a

dungeon crawl. Fantastic.

“Right,” I muttered, adjusting my grip on her. Ally stayed quiet, probably hoping I’d let it slide. Instead, I hunched forward, shuffled sideways, and

maneuvered us past the obstacles with all the grace of a drunk troll carrying a sack of potatoes. Only difference? The sack of potatoes in my arms was

rolling her eyes and trying very hard not to

to look guilty.

At last, the battered top door loomed in front of us. I exhaled, long and sharp. “Okay. Now what? We planning on sleeping on the stairs, or are you actually going to unlock the door?”

She shifted in my arms, squirming like a damn cat that wanted down. I tightened my hold before she could even try it. “Don’t start,” I warned, voice low.

“Just unlock the door, Rivers.”

She gave me that trademark huff, rolled her eyes so hard I thought they might stick, then reluctantly pressed her hand to the wood. The door shuddered,

glowing faintly as the wards recognised her touch. A soft click, then it swung open.

“Finally,” I muttered, striding through before she could second–guess herself.

I braced myself for cobwebs. For dust, splinters, and the kind of mildew stink you couldn’t scrub out with a year’s worth of soap. It was an attic, after all,

what else could it be? But the second the door swung open, my brain short–circuited. The place glowed. Literally glowed. A lush black carpet shimmered

underfoot, silver threads twinkling like starlight. A stained–glass window spilled moonlight across the largest bed I’d ever seen in my life, massive, cloud-

fluffed, piled with pillows, enormous black wings for a headboard and dressed in deep green sheets that looked softer than sin. To the left, an entire

black wings bathroom gleamed through an open door in polished stone and brass. To the right, a kitchen spread open like something out of a fairytale, cabinets charmed, little golden knobs shaped like leaves. The air smelled faintly of herbs and something sweet, like pastries. And in the middle of it all? A cozy little

living space, plush, large green armchairs that could probably fit three of Evander in one, facing a wall–mounted enchanted TV, a whimsical rug patterned

with moons and stars anchoring the room. My jaw actually dropped.

“This…” I said slowly, blinking around like an idiot, “is your room?”

She wriggled in my arms, smirking like the cat that got the cream. “Yes.”

set her down on the couch before I dropped her, still turning in a slow circle, taking it all in. “I thought, hell, I thought you were roughing it up here. Sleeping on the floor with spiders for company.”

Her mouth curved, tired but sharp. “Disappointed?”

“Disappointed?” I barked a laugh. “Rivers, this looks better than half the noble estates I’ve been dragged to.” My eyes flicked to the ceiling and stopped. “Wait. Is that… the night sky?”

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Not A Good Thief.

Sure enough, where I expected beams and rafters, the roof shimmered away into a spell. Stars scattered across the black, shifting slowly like they were real, are they real? A few faint streaks of rain whispered across the illusion, dissolving before they touched the ground.

“Holy shit,” I muttered.

She only shrugged, settling deeper into the cushions. “Yep.”

I shook my head, dragging a hand through my hair, still grinning. “You’ve been holding out on me, stray. Big time.”

“Okay, ground rules,” Rivers said, folding her arms across her chest, eyes half–lidded with exhaustion but sharp as a blade. “You can’t tell anyone about

this.”

I dropped into the armchair across from her, still staring around like a tourist. “Why the hell not? This would be the coolest hangout space on campus.”

She huffed, tugging her knees up toward her chest. “Exactly. And I don’t want this to be a hangout space for people who don’t even like me. It’s my space.”

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees, giving her my best mock–serious face. “Alright, two things. One, I do like you, Ally.” I watched her eyes narrow at the nickname, but she didn’t bite, so I pressed on. “And two, I won’t tell a soul if you tell me how in the hell you did all this.” I waved a hand around, pointing at the bathroom door that still faintly glowed with enchantments. “I’ve seen this attic before, years ago, when we first started here. They offered it to me. I turned it down because it was a drafty death trap. Now look at it.”

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