Page 33 of Magical Melee (Stonewick Magical Midlife Witch Academy #1)

“Frank, come on!” I hissed, gently tugging at his collar as he planted his stubby legs firmly on the floor. His wide and wrinkly bulldog face glared up at me, and his jowls trembled in protest.

“I know you want to fight,” I whispered urgently, “but right now, I need you safe. You’re my backup plan, okay? I need you more than you realize.”

Frank let out a disgruntled snort but begrudgingly shuffled forward as I led him toward the cellar door. The sound of the battles outside—the shrieks of gryphons, the roars of gargoyles, and the unearthly cries of Shadowick’s creatures—filtered through the cottage walls, but inside, it was eerily quiet.

We reached the cellar, and I swung the heavy wooden door open, ushering Frank down the steep steps.

His nails clicked against the stairs as he reluctantly descended. The air grew colder as we reached the bottom.

The familiar scent of earth and stone mingled with the faint strum of latent magic.

“Stay here,” I said firmly as we reached the small, dimly lit room. “No arguments.”

Frank barked sharply, as if to say, You’re making a mistake, and began circling around me in agitation. His stubby tail wagged nervously, and he gave the door one last mournful glance before sitting down with a heavy sigh.

I tried to ignore the pang of guilt in my chest. “It’s for your own good,” I muttered, crouching and scratching behind his ears. “You’re too valuable to risk out there.”

As I stood up, my gaze flicked toward the pedestal in the center of the room. Its mirror shimmered faintly, and a soft glow pulsed from within as if it were alive, waiting for me to return.

The pull was there, stronger than before, urging me to come closer.

To touch it.

To unlock whatever secrets it held.

But I tore my eyes away.

Now wasn’t the time.

“Not today,” I muttered under my breath.

Frank, however, had other plans. His ears perked up, and he suddenly darted toward the far wall, sniffing furiously at the base of the stones. He let out a low growl and scratched at a particular section of the wall with surprising urgency.

“Frank, what are you doing?”

He didn’t stop as his claws worked furiously at the rough stone.

Curious, I knelt down beside him, running my hands over the wall. The stones were cool and solid beneath my fingers, but as Frank scratched, one shifted slightly, revealing a faint outline of a hidden compartment.

My pulse quickened. “What have you found, boy?”

I tugged at the loose stone, pulling it free with a soft grating sound of stone against stone.

A small and dark cubby, barely large enough to fit my hand, opened behind. I hesitated for a moment, then reached inside, my fingers brushing against something long, smooth, and cool.

Carefully, I pulled the object out into the dim light.

It was a golden wand—sleek and dark.

Its surface was etched with faint, swirling patterns, leading to a carved butterfly that seemed to shift as I turned it in my hands. A faint strum of energy buzzed through the air, growing stronger the longer I held it.

The moment my fingers wrapped fully around the wand, a jolt of energy shot through me.

My entire body lit up.

Static skittered over my skin as the hairs on my arms stood on end. My fingers prickled as though tiny sparks were dancing across them.

“Frank,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “What’s happening?”

Frank barked once. His eyes widened with what I could only interpret as enthusiasm. He pawed at my leg, and his short tail wagged nervously.

The energy intensified, spreading through my arms and chest, filling me with a strange, almost electric warmth.

My eyesight flickered momentarily. The dim cellar grew brighter, and I felt a sudden clarity. The wand in my hand pulsed gently, the swirling patterns on its surface glowing brighter, mirroring the energy coursing through me.

“Okay,” I murmured, trying to steady my breathing. “This is… new.”

Before I could process anything further, a sudden, sharp crack echoed from above.

A deep rumbling followed that shook the entire cottage. Dust rained down from the ceiling, and the cellar walls trembled with the force of the impact.

Frank barked wildly, his stance low and defensive as he stared up at the wooden beams overhead.

My heart pummeled in my chest.

“What the hell was that?” I muttered, gripping the wand tightly.

Another loud crack followed, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of something heavy slamming into the roof. The gryphons’ screeches outside grew more frantic, and the rhythmic beating of their wings became almost deafening.

“Stay here, Frank,” I said, my voice firmer now. “No arguments this time.”

Frank growled low in his throat, his eyes fixed on mine, but he didn’t move as I slowly climbed the cellar stairs, the wand still clutched tightly in my hand.

The cottage trembled slightly as I reached the top, and the sound of splintering wood echoed from the roof. Whatever was happening outside was escalating quickly. I stepped cautiously into the main room, my eyes darting toward the windows. Through the thick glass, I could see dark shapes flitting through the sky, their forms sharp and angular against the clouds.

The gargoyles were still fighting. Their roars mingled with the piercing cries of the gryphons as they dove and attacked the shadowy creatures surrounding the cottage.

But it was clear that the enemy’s numbers were growing. The dark figures in the trees had advanced. Their glowing eyes were now visible even from inside the house.

Another crack split the air, and a section of the roof near the fireplace shifted as a shower of debris crashed to the floor.

I shielded my face as a rush of cold air filled the room, followed by the sound of heavy, clawed footsteps landing on the wooden beams above.

They were inside the attic space.

The wand in my hand pulsed again, and the static charge that had been building within me surged, filling me with a sudden, fierce determination.

Whatever these creatures were, whatever Gideon had sent to finish us off, I wasn’t going to back down.

The crackling energy from the wand intensified, and I could feel it syncing with my heartbeat, each pulse a reminder that I wasn’t alone in this fight.

I looked around, realizing everyone had gone outside.

Maybe I was a little alone.

They were busy fighting while I was busy stumbling upon magical wands.

“Alright,” I said under my breath, gripping the wand tightly. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

But when I turned around, I nearly bumped into Ember.

She stood there, arms crossed, a wry smile tugging at the corners of her lips as if she’d been there all along, watching me stumble through this new magical chaos.

“Ember?” I gasped, stepping back instinctively. “How did you get here?”

Her smile widened, her eyes glinting with a mix of mischief and calm. “Perks of being a ghost.”

“Right. A ghost. You had mentioned that.” My voice came out a pitch higher than intended. I blinked, trying to process what I’d just heard again.

My mind could only handle so much at a time.

She tilted her head, her expression as casual as if we were discussing the weather. “That’s right.”

“But you—you just don’t look like a ghost. I’ll get used to it. I promise,” I stammered. My eyes scanned her from head to toe.

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 adorned with 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 deafening boom shook 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.

I wrapped my fingers around the doorknob and pulled it open where Stella was furiously tracing symbols in the air, her hands glowing brighter than I’d ever seen.

Keegan stood near the shattered remains of the back porch. His sword gleamed with a faint green light as he deflected blasts of dark energy from the shadowy figures outside.

Nova, her staff crackling with power, was reinforcing the protection around the windows. Her expression was calm but fierce.

“Nice of you to join us,” Stella called over her shoulder, her tone sharp but laced with relief.

“Couldn’t let you have all the fun,” Ember replied, her eyes flicking to the broken roof. “He unleashed the next wave?”

“Looks like it,” Keegan said, his voice tight as he struck down another dark figure that had managed to slip through the forest.

I took a deep breath, the weight of the moment settling over me. “What do we do?”

“Fight.” Keegan’s eyes darted to mine, and a flash of heat covered my body.

The hazel in his eyes was replaced by the darkness of the situation. The strength of his powers coated me with a comfort that I needed.

“Hold the line,” Nova said simply. “We don’t let them take the cottage.”

The wand in my hand pulsed again, and I glanced at Ember, who gave me a quick nod.

“Let’s see what you’ve got, Maeve,” she said, her tone both encouraging and serious.

I raised the wand, feeling the power flow through me as I entered the fray.

It was time to fight.