Page 155 of Magical Mayhem

Twobble, unhelpful but sweet, added, “She probably also carried snacks in her sleeves. And poof. Gone, just like that.”

That drew out another round of broken, tear-streaked laughter. My dad chuckled so hard he wheezed, my mother wiped at her eyes, and even Keegan let out a low laugh despite the weight in his chest.

We sat there sprawled across the regal Academy’s steps. The grandeur of its carved stone columns and shimmering spells seemed softer now, as if it were holding us close instead of towering above us.

Students compared burns, bruises, and broken wands.

Another joked that she’d frame the splintered remains of her wand as proof she’dlived a little.

And through it all, pride glowed brighter than the stars.

Because magic in midlife wasn’t the fading of power.

It was the beginning.

The start of something we were only just beginning to understand.

The laughter around us was still humming when Twobble tilted his head at Skonk. He squinted, his nose wrinkling as if he smelled something strange. Then his eyes widened, and he jabbed a stubby finger toward the goblin.

“Hey,” Twobble said, squinting harder. “Weren’t you supposed to be guarding Gideon?” His voice rose like a suspicious parent. “And why do you have yarn stuck in your four strands of hair?”

The courtyard fell into a hush again, eyes swiveling toward Skonk.

The goblin blinked, reached up, and plucked a bright blue thread from his wiry hair. He flicked it away with a nonchalant shrug.

“Ah. That.” He cleared his throat and nodded like a man about to give an important speech. “I did guard him. Along with Stella. And Lady Limora and the rest of the vampiric tea party.”

My stomach dropped like a stone. “Skonk?”

He held up a clawed hand. “But.”

My pulse thumped in my ears. “But what?”

He scratched the back of his neck. “There was… a development.”

The beat of silence was deafening. My chest tightened. “A development?”

Skonk nodded, looking more uncomfortable than I’d ever seen him. “Yes. A development that I don’t entirely understand. Yet.”

“Skonk,” I whispered, my voice trembling with something between dread and fury. “Where is Stella?”

The goblin’s face flushed a deep shade of mossy green. He coughed, scuffed his foot against the step, and muttered, “She’s… occupied.”

I rose to my feet, every nerve in my body flaring.

“Skonk, this isn’t funny.” My voice echoed through the courtyard, louder than I meant. “Where is Stella? Where is Gideon?”

Keegan rose too, though his knees wobbled.

Skonk threw up both hands.

“All right, all right! Don’t bite my head off, witch. Here’s what happened. I was there. Stella was there. Lady Limora and her entourage of sparkly bats were there. We were holding our ground.”

He paced a little, his stubby legs carrying him back and forth, gesturing wildly as he spoke. “But then…then the sky cracked open. Light spilled through, all dramatic-like, very pretty, if Iweren’t nearly blinded. And in that very moment,” He paused, his expression twisting into baffled disgust. “Luna burst into the hotel room.”

“Luna?” I repeated, my voice sharp.

“The yarn witch,” Skonk said, nodding solemnly. “With her bags of trickery and… fiber arts.”