She grumbled under her breath in an exasperated, old-lady manner. “Well, isn’t this what Academies are for?”

I averted my eyes, not knowing how to explain to someone like her that I’d allowed my sense of responsibility to grow greater than my heart’s desires. I loved the Shop, but oftentimes this love was the anchor that pulled me down to that lightless, cold place where dreams went to die.

“I’ve made you sad,” Agathe noticed apologetically.

“You didn’t, really. It’s just… a lot to take in.”

I released a breath and, finally, slumped on the bed, unable to hold on to my feet any longer. Frazzled, I stared at the frothy canopy as equal parts of anxious excitement and tremendous confusion paraded around my head, a marching band of thoughts. The fluffy clouds on the ceiling reminded me of the seaside, and I started picturing a small boat slamming into a terrible squall, left with no choice but to brave the angry waves. I knew exactly how that poor little boat felt.

Then, all of a sudden, it dawned on me…

I propped on my elbows and met her gaze. “Agathe, do you know what I can do with it? The magic, I mean.”

Agathe smiled a brilliant, mischievous smile. “You can shine.”

I pouted petulantly. “That’s not ambiguous at all.”

She laughed. “Well, maybe you should stay and find out for yourself.”

“Stay where?”

“Here, of course. In The Faraway North.”

The notion was as outrageous as being a vessel for a half-dead celestial object. I’d always been so adamant about not leaving the Shop, that I’d never seriously entertained the idea of moving to the North. At this point, I couldn’t even imagine what Thaloria might look like. Would the myriad of stories I had read do it justice, or was it a place as dangerous as the forest that surrounded it?

I supposed there were plenty of things I could do with my life here. I could become a witch’s apprentice, a potion-maker, or even attend university to study history. Or I could simply open a new Shop. I could call itStarshineand fill it with all kinds of starry curiosities.

The possibilities were endless. But I wasn’t. And that scared me—the impermanence of my condition. I only had so many years ahead of me and so many things I wanted to do with them. It was impossible to choose to be one person when life was so interesting and intricate. There were so many people I wanted to be and so many lives I wanted to live. And in the end, I found comfort in the familiar. With that, at least, I already knew the outcome.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and admitted both to Agathe and myself, “I could never leave my Shop.”

Agathe stared at me intently. “But you could leave Apollo?”

A sort of panic descended on me. I actually felt my left eye twitch. “What are you talking about?”

“Well, aren’t you two—”

“No!” I squealed, launching to my feet. “No, no, no. It’s not like that between us. I hardly know him. We’re just…”

“Traveling companions,” Agathe wryly offered.

“Yes.”

“I see.” She pouted her lips, looking strangely disappointed. “So you don’t like him.”

An excruciatingly vivid image of Apollo barging into my Shop with his easy charm and dangerous smile sparked like a firework in my mind. My heart, for no good reason at all, started beating very fast. “Apollo…” I paused, struggling to find words capable enough of describing the breathtaking paradox that was Apollo Zayra. “Ever since I met him, all kinds of terrible things have happened to me. My Shop was attacked by vengeful guardians, and I fell from the sky, and twice people have tried to get their hands on my hair. But Apollo… I don’t know…” I bit into my lower lip. “For a heartless brute, he isn’t terrible, I suppose. He’s… well, he’s funny and adventurous and fearless. Andwildlyunpredictable, which—and this might come as a surprise—is not the worst thing in the world. I’ve never met anyone like him.”

The moment I noticed Agathe’s satisfied smirk, I regretted every single word that had just left my mouth.

Was my description of him too generous? Did I sound infatuated?

Am I infatuated?

Gods, what was I thinking? I just needed some tea. And a good book. And a week-long nap. That would clear my head.

Agathe must have read my mind because she chirped just then, “Okay, you’re starting to look a little green, so why don’t I bring up some tea and biscuits while you take a nice, warm bath, yes?”

She flew to the other side of the room and opened the door to the adjoining chamber. Pink tiles, floral wallpaper, and a giant brass bathtub caught my attention.