Page 38 of Magical Mayhem (Stonewick Magical Midlife Witch Academy #7)

The banquet hall shimmered with its usual warmth, and the enchanted lanterns glowed like jars of fireflies, long tables crowded with students in their summer dresses.

But I knew differently. The voices rising weren’t bright and carefree; they worried.

They saw the shadow and felt the darkness pressing in upon them.

I knew the decisions I made tonight could change the fate of Stonewick forever.

Whoever I sent to guard Gideon might not come back. Whoever I asked to stand against Malore beside me could be lost. Even those left behind to protect the Academy might not survive.

The thought pressed against my ribs until my breath grew shallow. This was my burden, the vow I had made when I stepped into the Academy, when I took up the mantle I never thought I wanted.

Stonewick. The Academy. The dragons.

I would protect them all, even if it meant breaking the law in the process.

Sacrifice.

My mind drifted to Celeste. What would they tell her? Would she believe it?

We needed to complete the circle, and Malore needed to be ended.

I spotted Stella at the far end of the hall, her crimson shawl sweeping like a stage curtain as she waved a teacup to punctuate some dramatic story.

And near her, Keegan—pale, but upright, speaking quietly to Ardetia.

His hazel eyes flicked to mine, beautiful as ever, as though he felt the weight hammering my chest.

I crossed the hall as the students parted for me, midlife witches smiling and murmuring.

It should have comforted me, that glow of life and magic, but it only made the dread worse. I could not let them fall.

Stella noticed me first, her lips pursing as she caught my expression. “Darling, that’s a face only reserved for dire news. Out with it.”

I looked between her and Keegan, lowering my voice. “It’s Gideon. He can’t be left alone. We need someone to watch him. Someone he can’t charm or break if he stirs again.”

Keegan’s jaw flexed, and he straightened despite the weariness tugging at him. “You think he’ll try?”

“I think Malore will try through him,” I said softly. “Maybe use him as a distraction.”

Keegan’s eyes hardened, but he didn’t argue. That, more than anything, unsettled me. He knew.

Stella swirled her tea, the porcelain clinking softly. “So you’re asking which poor soul has the honor of babysitting the most dangerous man in Stonewick?”

I tried to smile, but it felt brittle. “Something like that.”

Keegan leaned on the table, his voice quiet but fierce.

“If he slips the leash, if Malore uses him again,” He cut himself off, then shook his head. “We can’t risk the students. We can’t risk the Academy.”

“No,” I agreed, my chest tightening. “That’s why it has to be one of us.

Someone strong enough to stand if he rises, but steady enough not to kill him outright.

Because as much as I’d love to let that option stand,” my throat thickened, “we need him. Without Gideon, there’s no circle.

Without the circle, we can’t close the Hunger Path. ”

Stella’s eyes narrowed, but her hand found mine briefly, grounding. “We’ll sort it, dear. We always do.”

Her words were meant to reassure, but I felt the echo of what they really meant: this choice might cost us someone we love.

And it was mine to make.

I turned slightly, scanning the hall. Nova stood near the windows, her staff resting against her shoulder, her dark hair shining in the lamplight.

Students gathered around her in quiet confidence, listening as she spoke of clarity and divination.

Nova would be the most obvious choice. Her power was sharp, her will unshakable.

She could see Gideon for what he was, pierce through illusion.

But if I sent Nova, who would guard the students from the shadows pressing at the Wards?

Without her steady sight, panic could spread like fire through dry grass.

Ardetia laughed softly across the room, leaning down to show a group of students how to weave herbs into protective knots.

Her glow was calm, radiant, like sunlight caught in amber.

She could handle Gideon, too. Nature magic bent to her, and she carried a strength that seemed endless.

But she had just begun earning the students’ trust this session, and without her presence, their fears might consume them.

Bella sat on the edge of a table, fox ears twitching as she teased a trio of witches about their posture.

If anyone could slip into Gideon’s room, tail swishing and eyes sharp, it was her.

Foxes knew how to survive where wolves and men fell.

But she was as quick to mischief as to loyalty, and Gideon’s silver tongue could weave mischief into ruin if given a chance.

And then there was Stella.

She knew how to keep the darkest things at bay with tea and salt and a glare sharp enough to slice shadows.

She could sit at Gideon’s bedside and make him feel like a scolded child rather than a fallen mage.

But she was also the heart of this place—the one who fed, who mothered, who reminded us we were more than warriors.

Could we afford to lose that presence from the Academy halls during battle?

My dad had already done his share, standing steady at my side through more storms than I’d realized he had the strength for. To ask him now, to put him in Gideon’s room, was to risk more than I could bear. I’d almost lost him once.

And Keegan… Keegan was tied too tightly to Gideon already. To leave them alone together could break more than it healed.

The thought left me dizzy. Whoever I chose, someone else would be left exposed.

I pressed my palms flat on the table, drawing in a slow breath. “This isn’t just about Gideon. Whoever guards him may not come back. Whoever fights beside me against Malore may not come back. Even those left to protect the Academy may perish. And I have to live with asking it of them.”

Keegan leaned closer, his hazel eyes burning. “No. We all live with it. You’re not carrying this alone, Maeve.”

“I promised,” I whispered. “I promised to protect Stonewick. To protect the Academy. To protect everything. That vow doesn’t disperse because the burden is too heavy.”

Stella clicked her tongue softly, a sound both sympathetic and chiding. “Darling, even vows can be shared.”

I shook my head, though a part of me clung to her words like a lifeline.

Unity.

Keegan’s hand brushed mine, warm despite the tremor in him. “Then let us share it. Decide who guards Gideon, Maeve. And we’ll make it work.”

My stomach twisted. My throat ached.

Across the hall, Nova turned, as though she knew her name hovered on my lips.

Ardetia’s laugh carried, golden and warm.

Bella’s tail flicked as she teased her students.

I drew in a sharp breath. My heart pounded, knowing that whichever name I spoke might spell their doom.

But it was time to choose.

The banquet hall quieted as I rose from the table. It wasn’t magic that silenced them, but something heavier: expectation. Every pair of eyes, witch, shifter, fae, and all the midlife wanderers who had found themselves inside these walls, turned toward me.

Fear lingered through the air.

I let it settle. Let them feel the weight.

“You’ve all seen it,” I began, my voice carrying across the stone, steady despite the storm inside me. “The skies splitting with fog. The face in the clouds. The shadows answering to someone who thinks Stonewick is his to take.”

A ripple passed through them with nods, murmurs, and tightened shoulders.

“Malore has been twisting what is ancient into something foul,” I continued.

“He’s bent the old rites until they look like weapons.

He believes if he bends them long enough, they’ll break entirely.

Gideon’s curse was only the beginning.” My throat tightened, but I forced the words out.

“A test. A trial run of what happens when shadows are fed instead of faced.”

The students exchanged glances, the older ones paling, the newer ones leaning closer as though drawing courage from each other.

I took a step closer, resting my palms against the edge of the long table.

“But tonight, and in the days to come, we’ll show him that Stonewick does not break.

That no matter how many rites he warps, no matter how many shadows he calls, he cannot twist what is ours: our unity. Our will. Our choice to stand.”

The room stilled again. I felt the Wards buzz faintly under my feet, as though the Academy itself was listening.

I drew a breath. “That’s why I’m asking you now, each of you, to remember what you’ve learned here. To remember your strengths. And to pair again with the instructors you chose earlier.”

Heads lifted, eyes widened.

“Yes,” I said, nodding. “Nova, for those who doubt their vision. Ardetia, for those who crave roots. Bella, for those who fear their chaos. Ember, for those who carry too much memory. Stella, for those who believe themselves small. Lemonia, for those who seek order.”

As I spoke, each instructor straightened, the light catching them in turn.

Nova’s green eyes gleamed like glass, calm and sharp.

Ardetia’s hair caught the lantern glow, golden as sunrise.

Bella smirked, fire flickering in her gaze.

Ember glowed faintly, steady as ever. Stella preened in her shawl but looked fiercely proud.

Lemonia inclined her head, serene as stone.

“These are not just classes anymore,” I told them. “These are your anchors. These are your threads. And when we weave them together, Malore will see what he fears most: that his shadows cannot scatter us.”

A murmur rose stronger this time in agreement, resolve, sparks of magic prickling the air.

I pressed forward, my voice rising. “This could very well be the last time Malore has this power. The last time he can call the sky to him and think we’ll cower. The last time he believes Stonewick will stand down. Because tonight, we show him he’s wrong.”

The words left me trembling, but I didn’t let them falter. I pushed harder.

“We show him that Stonewick is not afraid. That the Academy is not afraid. That we are not going anywhere. Not into his shadows. Not into his hunger. Not into silence.”

The hall pulsed with sound—applause, stomping feet, voices lifting. The runes thrummed louder, responding to the swell of will. Even the kitchen sprites chimed in, bells ringing from their trays as they zipped through the air.

I let the sound wash over me, steadying the cracks in my chest.

But as I looked out over them and flushed faces, bright eyes, and magic sparking, I couldn’t ignore the truth. Some of them might not come back. Some of them might falter. Some of them might fall.

And it would be on me.

I straightened my shoulders, forcing the thought into the back of my mind. There would be time for grief later. For now, I needed them whole. I needed them ready.

“Pair with your instructors,” I said firmly, raising my hand until the noise softened. “Remember what you carry. Remember what you are. Malore’s shadows will not win because they cannot mimic what we hold: each other.”

The hall moved then, chairs scraping, voices lifting again as students stood and began gravitating toward their chosen teachers.

Nova gathered her cluster near the window, Ember near the hearth, Ardetia by the fountain centerpiece, Bella in a corner already laughing with her group, Stella fussing and preening as she waved hers closer, Lemonia drawing runes in the air as her students leaned in to copy them.

It wasn’t chaos. It was motion with purpose.

I stood at the center of it all, watching the pieces shift into place, and I felt the faintest tug of hope.

Not safety. Not certainty. But hope.

And maybe that was enough to carry us forward into the storm.

I turned slightly, catching Keegan’s gaze across the hall. His hazel eyes were tired, shadowed, but when they met mine, they softened. He nodded once, as if to say: Yes. This is how we stand.

But behind that look, I still saw the doubt. The pain. The weight of his mother’s silence and his father’s absence.

And I knew the shadows weren’t finished.

Not by a long shot.