Chapter Eight: The Witch's Block
I locked eyes with the Headmaster, my gaze searching for answers. The soft, golden light of the setting sun cast a warm glow over the room, illuminating the intricate carvings on the wooden furniture and the soft, leather-bound books that lined the shelves.
The Headmaster's expression was calm and collected, but I sensed a hint of urgency beneath the surface. Before I could ask any questions, he rose from his chair with a suddenness that made my shoulders tense.
"Come, Lyra," he said, his voice firm but gentle, as he gestured for me to follow him. "It's time for you to see your new home. You must be exhausted from your journey." The soft light of the setting sun danced across his face, casting shadows that accentuated the lines and creases of his wise, o
