Page 97 of Magical Melee

“Oh, yeah,” he said, grinning. “The Academy’s got defenses. You wouldn’t believe the number of magical creatures that guard that place. You think the cottage has some cool monsters protecting it. You should see the Academy. It’s like a zoo but with less popcorn and more empirical dread.”

“I noticed a fox statue out back. Was that a living…”

“No. Keegan just liked that statue at the hardware store,” Twobble said with a laugh.

“Lovely,” I muttered, taking another sip of tea. “So, what does this mean for me? Should I be preparing to break into the Academy or something?”

Nova shook her head. “The Academy will call to those it needs. If it deems you worthy, you’ll know.”

“Worthy,” I repeated, the word tasting bitter. “I’ve barely understood what it means to be a witch, and now I’m supposed to be worthy?”

“You’ll get there,” Stella said, her tone encouraging. “You’ve already come farther than most would in your position. Something that I would have thought should have taken months has been a week.”

Keegan crossed his arms, his gaze steady. “The Academy’s doors may be closed, but that doesn’t mean you can’t prepare. Your connection to Stonewick is growing. When the time comes, you’ll be ready. If those doors open, you’ll be prepared.”

“Assuming we don’t all get turned into magical statues first,” Twobble quipped.

Frank snorted, and I couldn’t help but laugh despite the knot of anxiety tightening in my chest.

“Fine,” I said, setting my cup down. “If the Academy wants me, it knows where to find me. Until then, let’s figure out how to keep Gideon and his lackeys from burning this place to the ground.”

“That’s the spirit,” Stella said, sliding a fresh scone onto my plate. “And remember, Maeve. The Academy may be silent, but its legacy lives on.”

I wasn’t sure what that meant yet, but as I bit into the warm, buttery scone, I decided I’d figure it out.

One step at a time.

But first, I needed to do something I’d been dreading. I needed to contact Alex and tell him to include Celeste in whatever Thanksgiving plans he had coming up.

I’d hoped she’d come to the cottage to celebrate, but I certainly wouldn’t take that chance with everything going on.

Besides, he’d already started flaking out when it came to our daughter, and this would be the perfect opportunity for him to step up to the plate.

I glanced around to see the others preoccupied. Stella was still in the kitchen, Nova and Keegan were deep in conversation on the porch, and Twobble was rummaging through cupboards for snacks. It was the perfect moment to slip away unnoticed and text the dreaded ex.

Frank, ever my vigilant companion, looked at me questioningly as I stood and quietly made my way toward the cellar door. I lifted the hatch and let out a sigh.

“Stay here,” I whispered, reassuringly patting his head. “I’ll be back soon.”

I didn’t know why, but it felt like a tether pulling me close, and it would be the perfect place to scream or cry after I texted Alex.

The dog’s brows pulled tighter, with his wrinkles sagging lower.

“I’ll be right back,” I whispered to Frank.

He huffed softly but stayed put. His dark eyes watched me closely as I slipped through the opening and descended the creaking wooden steps, but I never imagined what awaited me.

Chapter Twenty-Five

The cellar was cold and still, just like I’d left it.

The faint glow of the pedestal in the center of the room drew me, but I promised myself not to answer its call.

Its surface twinkled dimly, and the runes carved into the stone glowed with a soft, rhythmic pulse. It felt alive, as though it were waiting for me.

Instead of moving toward it, I sat on a step and stared at my phone. How did I start this message?

You better say yes, or I’ll place a hex?