Page 132 of Magical Melee

She looked solid, as real as anyone else, with her fiery hair and the faint, warm glow that always seemed to surround her.

Ember laughed softly, the sound light and almost musical. “Were you expecting me to arrive in chains? A floating sheet? Sorry to disappoint, but there’s a bit more to me than meets the eye.”

My mouth opened, then closed as my brain tried to catch up. “You’re very much alive, though.”

“Not in the traditional sense,” she said with a shrug. “But I get by.”

I nodded and drew a deep breath. “So, can you see what we can’t?”

Ember’s expression sobered, her eyes flicking toward the ceiling. “I’ve been keeping an eye on things. Overhead view and all.” She gestured vaguely upward. “Gideon isn’t anywhere on the property that I can see.”

I nodded. “You’re sure?”

“As sure as I can be,” she replied. “Doesn’t mean he’s not lurking somewhere nearby, but if he’s got eyes on the cottage, he’s doing it from a distance.”

That was a small relief, but not much. The absence of Gideon didn’t make the situation any less dire. Not to mention, he was the one we needed to finish off.

Finish off?

Wow.

Listen to me go.

I glanced at the wand, still humming faintly with energy. “And the things attacking the cottage?”

“More of Shadowick’s charmers,” Ember said, her tone dry. “But don’t worry—Stella, Keegan, and Nova are holding them off for now. And you,” she added, her gaze flicking to the wand, “look like you’re ready to join the fun.”

“Fun wouldn’t be my first choice of words,” I muttered, though the energy coursing through me felt steadier now, more controllable.

Before I could ask any more questions, a soft, melodic voice drifted from behind us. “You’re ready, my dear.”

I turned to see a tall woman with flowing silver hair and piercing violet eyes standing at the base of the stairs. She carried herself with a serene grace, her long, dark robes adornedwith delicate patterns that seemed to shift and shimmer as she moved.

“Who—?” I started.

“Miora,” Ember supplied, her tone fond. “She’s the cottage’s caretaker.”

Miora inclined her head slightly. Her expression was calm but knowing as she smiled. “You’ve found the wand. It will serve you well.”

“Great,” I said, glancing between her and Ember. “Ghosts, magical caretakers—why not? Let’s throw it all in.”

Ember chuckled. “Welcome to Stonewick, Maeve.”

Before I could respond, a deafeningboomshook the entire cottage. The floor beneath us trembled, dust raining down from the ceiling. Frank barked furiously from the cellar, his growls echoing through the space.

“What was that?” I shouted, my heart leaping into my throat.

Another explosion followed, louder this time, and the windows rattled violently. The air around us seemed to crackle with tension.

The thrum of magic intensified.

“They’ve breached the outer wards of town,” Miora said, her voice steady despite the chaos. “You need to go. I’ll keep repairing the cottage.”

Ember nodded, her playful demeanor replaced by a sharp focus. “Time to join the fight.”

Without hesitation, we moved toward the back door. My grip on the wand tightened, and its energy pulsed in time with my racing heartbeat.

The sounds of the battle outside grew louder—the screeches of gryphons, the roars of gargoyles, and the unearthly cries of Shadowick’s creatures.