Page 35 of Magical Melee

I glanced down to see Frank sitting right where I left him. When he saw us, he stood and stepped behind us.

“Nah, it was just a little bit different than I am used to.”

“Oh, you have to tell me now. Was the dream about Keegan? Is that why you look so dopy?”

I laughed. “I don’t look dopy. Maybe, exhausted…”

She chuckled. “Spill the beans.”

“It wasn’t about Keegan.”

“Ah, that’s too bad.”

“Well,” I began, carefully choosing my words, “I dreamtI snuck out last night. Walked around the town, and then I bumped into Nova. She showed me around the town.”

I didn’t feel right telling her any of the details. For some reason, they felt too special.

Skye’s eyes widened, and she gave a low whistle. “Well, that doesn’t sound quite like what I thought.” She grinned. “But it makes sense since we’re basically living in a gothic Hallmark movie. If you’re going to have a mystical dream, this is the place to have it!”

I forced a smile, but I couldn’t quite shake the unease.

It wasn’t just the content of the dream that bothered me; it was the feeling. Everything had felt so real—the textures, the sounds, even the chill in the night air. As we made our way out of the hotel, I took a deep breath and wondered if I’d see the alleyway I’d wandered down last night.

In my dream, of course.

“Earth to Maeve!” Skye’s voice pulled me back. “There’s the shop! I can already smell the yarn from here.”

My brows quirked. “You can smell the yarn?”

She chuckled and squeezed me. “This is the perfect place for fall.”

I nodded and looked up to see the small shop with the orange door just ahead, nestled between two other historic buildings. A cheery sign hung above, readingThe Stonewick Stitch,with the silhouette of a knitting needle weaving through the letters.

I followed Skye inside, where the scent of wool and lavender mingled pleasantly in the warm, inviting space.

“Okay, I can smell it too,” I confessed. “This is so cool.”

Skeins of yarn in every conceivable color lined the walls. Lavenders, purples, and blues took over one wall. Oranges, yellows, and reds onanother wall. Pinks and pastels stacked on the back wall. It was a beautiful mosaic and better than any stretch of wallpaper.

A large wooden table in the center held an assortment of needles, patterns, and accessories.

Scarves and hats hung from invisible strings above. Colorful blankets had been spread across some tables in the back.

A few other women were already seated around the table, chatting quietly, their fingers flying through chains of yarn with enviable ease. An elderly woman with sparkling blue eyes and hair in a loose bun stood at the head of the table, smiling at us as we approached.

“Welcome, welcome!” Another woman greeted us. She was younger than most in the store. “I’m Luna, and I’ll be guiding you through our little knitting adventure today. First time knitting?” She eyed us with a knowing glint.

Skye grinned and nodded. “Completely new. And honestly, I’m not sure my fingers will cooperate.”

“Well, that’s half the fun, isn’t it?” Luna replied with a chuckle. “Grab some needles, pick a yarn color you like, and we’ll get started. You’ll be amazed at how quickly your hands catch on.”

As we settled in, Skye eagerly reached for a pale pink yarn while I gravitated toward a soft, mossy green. Luna handed us needles and began explaining the basics—casting on, the knit stitch, the purl stitch. My hands were clumsy at first, the yarnslipping through my fingers as I struggled to find a rhythm. But eventually, I began to feel a small sense of accomplishment with each stitch I completed.

As Luna moved on to the next step, I let myself relax, letting the repetitive motions calm my mind. The dream drifted to the back of my thoughts, and for a moment, I felt anchored—just Maeve, learning to knit with her best friend.

Skye groaned loudly and pretended to collapse. She leaned over the table, holding up her tangled yarn above her head. “I’ve managed to make a very fashionable knot. Think I can sell it as modern art?”

I giggled and glanced down at the start of my scarf, rather impressed with myself.