Page 99 of Magical Melee

I would have had to have searched it out, yet it landed with ease and grace in a message to my lying, cheating, son-of-an ex.

Be the magic.

Oh, my God! I might actually be the magic.

By golly.

I’d take it.

The pedestal pulsed a faint glow, and I hesitated momentarily before stepping closer. My hands ran along the edge.

As I traced the lines of the runes, a subtle warmth spread through my hands, traveling up my arms and settling in my chest.

“Okay,” I murmured to myself. “Show me what you’ve got.”

The pedestal flared to life. The runes brightened more than ever before, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the dull stone walls around me.

Beneath my hands, the wooden surface shifted, revealing a faint outline of a keyhole that shimmered before disappearing into a fog of butterflies.

I leaned in to see my breathing fog the glass before I peered into the depths, into…prisms?

What I saw took my breath away.

The mirror blended into an image beyond the glass.

A vast and sprawling library filled with books stretched endlessly into the distance. The vibrant book spines nearly glowed in colors richer than I knew possible. My heart skipped a beat at the sight.

Some titles glowed softly on the spines, while others had been etched in sparkling gold and silver. Even more books were bound in materials that shimmered like starlight. Theactual shelves were carved from dark wood that seemed almost alive, their edges curling like vines and wrapping the books in comforting embraces.

It reminded me of Nova’s chair back at the tarot shop.

The place was mesmerizing and so grand that it was hard to comprehend fully.

But what struck me most was how badly I wanted to be there. It was like a magnet pulling at my heart tightly.

When I pulled my gaze away from the bookshelves, I took in the library's architecture. The design was bold, beautiful, and eerie. The domed ceiling unfolded into the distance and met stained-glass windows.

The tall, arched windows let in streams of colored light, though I couldn’t see what lay beyond them. The floor was tiled in a mosaic of deep greens and royal blues with splashes of red. When I focused on them, the shapes looked to expand and shift, like a functioning kaleidoscope.

Despite its grandiosity, the library felt warm and inviting. It wasn’t just a place of knowledge. This space felt like a sanctuary, a refuge for those who sought answers and solace in equal measure. And I needed both. The weight of its history pressed gently against me, filling me with a sense of belonging.

I needed those answers so severely that my bones ached.

Closing my eyes, I sighed and placed both hands flat against the glass, feeling the pedestal sing beneath my touch. The warmth intensified. It was as if the library itself was acknowledging me, recognizing my presence, and welcoming me into its fold.

Or was it only my wishful thinking?

“What are you?” I whispered, my voice barely audible in the stillness. “Where are you?”

The swirling light within the glass shifted, and for a brief moment, I thought I saw shapes moving between the shelves, not quite like last night, but something ethereal.

I focused carefully on what was happening beyond the glass, and my heart raced as I watched figures cloaked in shadows, their faces obscured, moving purposefully between the aisles. Their hands slid over the spines of books as if searching for something.

Or someone.

This had to be Stonewick’s library…right?

The soft creak of footsteps above snapped me out of my daydream. I glanced toward the cellar door as my heart pounded.