Page 18 of Magical Mirage (Stonewick Magical Midlife Witch Academy #6)

The halls of the Academy held a hush that only appeared when most of the students had gone.

I hadn’t realized how I’d become so used to the clatter of shoes and whispered spells, the distant chortling of potion kettles boiling over, or laughter sneaking out from corners where no one was supposed to be.

Now, the echoes were softer and measured.

My dad pattered beside me, as the lanterns above cast a warm light, amber pooling in alcoves, dancing faintly across tapestries that hadn’t changed in generations.

Kitchen sprites zipped through the halls, trying for headcounts for dinner.

Here and there, a voice drifted through the corridor, a student still lingering, murmuring to another. A door creaked somewhere behind us. A kettle whistled faintly in the distance.

I glanced toward one of the inner courtyards as we passed.

A woman sat cross-legged beneath the great arch, head bent over yarn and needles, her fingers flying as she shaped something I couldn’t yet see.

Probably one of Luna’s students. Many witches chose to stay through the break, preferring the quiet magic of Stonewick’s rhythms to whatever waited beyond the town’s border.

Some of them had nowhere to go.

Others… maybe they just didn’t want to leave.

I understood that feeling more than I liked to admit.

“Still feels like home,” my dad said beside me, his voice low. “Even after all this time.”

I nodded. “It has a way of doing that.”

The walk was longer than it needed to be, all because of my own doing. I kept pausing, slowing my pace with excuses to glance out windows or study wall carvings I’d passed a hundred times. But really, it was nerves.

I wasn’t sure what I’d find when I opened Keegan’s door.

He hadn’t been the same since the fight with Malore, since the spell had twisted through him and left something tangled behind. I’d seen the pain in his eyes when he tried to stand. I’d seen the flicker of doubt in his jaw when he caught me looking.

And still, I needed to see him.

“I’ll go check the library,” my dad said suddenly, as we slowed near Keegan’s room. “Give you some time.”

I nodded, grateful.

He trotted into the shadows, and I stood in front of Keegan’s door for longer than I cared to admit.

I finally knocked gently and let myself in.

The scent of pine and worn leather greeted me first. Not the harshness of the infirmary or the stuffy scent of charmed corridors. But his room still felt steady and quiet.

The curtains were half-drawn, letting in light that slanted low and golden across the floor.

He sat in the chair by the window, one leg stretched out, the other bent at the knee. He looked good, handsome, and hard to ignore.

A blanket was draped loosely over the back of the seat, half-forgotten. His forearm rested along the windowsill, and he was watching something outside…though whether it was the trees, the fog, or simply the sky, I couldn’t tell.

He didn’t move right away, but I saw the way his jaw flexed. He’d heard me.

“I was wondering how long it would take you,” he said, voice low and gravel-edged, the kind of sound that made my stomach flip for reasons I didn’t always understand.

I stepped further in, closing the door gently behind me. “Didn’t want to rush.”

“You never do.”

There was no accusation in it. Just observation. He finally turned toward me.

His face was still too pale, the skin beneath his eyes shadowed, but the color had returned to his lips, and there was something more solid in his posture than the last time I’d seen him. Something settled.

The edges of exhaustion were still there, but they no longer held him hostage.

“You look…” I trailed off, my throat tightening.

His brow arched. “Ragged? Cursed? Like death’s afterthought?”

“Stronger,” I said, smiling. “Calmer.”

He tilted his head, a ghost of a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Funny. I was going to say the same about you.”

I crossed the room slowly, letting the quiet stretch.

There was something about seeing him like this, dressed simply, boots off, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, that made the ache in my chest twist deeper.

Even half-healed, he radiated a strength I wasn’t sure he realized.

Or maybe he did and just didn’t trust it anymore.

“How are you feeling?” I asked, watching him carefully.

He exhaled through his nose, looking back out the window. “Like I survived something I wasn’t supposed to.”

“That’s… accurate.”

He didn’t speak for a moment.

“Something’s shifting inside me, Maeve. Not just from the fight. Before that. Since Moonbeam.”

I nodded, moving to the empty chair beside him. “I know.”

“It’s like my strength is there, but it’s… borrowed. Temporary. I used to shift and recover within hours, even with the ten-year cycles. But now, every time I draw power, it takes more. Leaves less behind. And I had a horrible nightmare as if the entire town was cast in a dark, gloomy cloud.”

My heart skipped a beat…it was no dream.

I wanted to reach for his hand, to tether him somehow, but I waited.

“I don’t know if I’ll survive the next one,” he said quietly.

The words landed like a punch.

“You will,” I said, fiercer than I intended. “We’re going to find a way to fix this. I don’t care how deep the curse is. I don’t care if I have to crawl through every Warded ruin, you’re not dying, Keegan.”

The words gutted me.

He didn’t argue. Just looked at me like he saw everything I wasn’t saying. And maybe he did.

I leaned back in the chair, folding my arms loosely.

“I’ve been reading scrolls,” I said.

“Dangerous.”

“Mm.”

He let the silence linger. I let it speak.

Finally, he said, “Found anything useful?”

I hesitated. “Pieces. Threads. Things we weren’t told.”

His gaze flipped toward me. “About the curse?”

“About what came before it.”

That held him still.

“Rest,” I said. “We’ll talk more when you’re ready.”

“I’m ready now.”

I shook my head. “You’re still pale. Your energy’s low. And if we start pulling at these threads, I don’t think we’ll be able to stop.”

He watched me for a long moment and finally reached out and took my hand.

“I trust you,” he said simply.

My throat tightened again, and I gripped his fingers in mine.

“And I’ll earn it,” I said.

Outside the window, the sky had begun to pinken at the edges, soft and strange against the bruise-colored fog that still drifted at the far treetops.

He stood slowly, as though his body were still deciding whether it agreed with his mind.

The blanket that had been slung over his shoulders slipped to the floor.

I bent to pick it up, but by the time I straightened, Keegan was already stretching, with arms reaching up, back arching, the long lines of him shifting like a big cat coming out of rest. And for one dizzying moment, I forgot how worried I was and just stared.

He looked good. Too good, maybe. The color had returned to his cheeks, the faint hollow of exhaustion under his eyes was less stark than minutes before, and his balance, while careful, was solid.

But something felt off.

Not wrong. Just… distant.

“I think I’m ready to head back to the hotel,” he said casually, like he was suggesting a walk to the market.

My brows lifted. “Tonight?”

He looked out the window again, the early evening light curling in low, honey-warm along the glass. “It’s time. I want to check on things. The staff. Ember. I want my own bed back at the house.”

I opened my mouth. Then shut it. Then opened it again.

“Keegan, I get that. I do. But… after everything that just happened with Malore, the fight, the curse, you shouldn’t push it. You need rest. Real rest. You just started healing. I don’t want you in any situations that would require you to shift and…”

He glanced back at me, his expression unreadable. “I am healing.”

“Yes, but you're still weak. And whatever’s shifting inside you…”

“Is mine to carry.”

I exhaled, trying not to let frustration needle through my concern. “That’s not what I meant.”

He moved to the narrow chest of drawers against the wall and pulled out a dark gray shirt. I watched as he removed the old and slipped on the new, the muscles in his arms flexing faintly. The casual grace of his movements wasn’t lost on me, but neither was the weariness he tried to hide.

“You almost bled out in my arms,” I said, voice low now.

“You think I’m just going to watch you walk off to sleep somewhere without charms, without backup, with half the town shadowed and Malore still loose?

I didn’t want to burden you with everything too soon, but it wasn’t just a bad dream.

The Wards trembled. The sapling in the Maple Ward curled inward.

And the glass above the central courtyard went black as the dark cloud shifted over us.

An essence was felt within the walls. What you dreamed of shadows wasn’t a dream, Keegan. There’s been a shift.”

Still, he said nothing. His jaw tightened, but no words came.

And that, more than anything, told me what I needed to know.

He wasn’t ready.

He wasn’t even close.

Mentally, physically… whatever the curse had done, it had wrung him dry and left barely enough behind to keep him walking forward.

And yet, he kept going.

Not for answers.

Not for bravery.

Just because he needed to feel like himself again, even if it was only for a single night.

Keegan turned toward me fully, and for a beat, the silence was a living thing between us.

“I’m not running, Maeve.”

“I didn’t say you were.”

“I just need to breathe somewhere that’s mine. The Academy’s not my home. It never was.”

The way he said it landed harder than it should have. I’d only just begun to think of the Academy as mine, barely stitched myself into its walls after the curse had unraveled so much. And here he was, already peeling himself away.

“I’m not trying to keep you caged,” I said.

He softened a little then. “I know.”

“And I know you’re not running. I just…” I hesitated, voice catching. “I just need to know you’ll be safe.”

Something in his expression shifted. It wasn’t guilt or anger, but something older and almost regretful.

“I can’t promise that,” he said. “Not anymore.”

The words chilled me.

He crossed the room and lifted his coat from the chair. His fingers brushed mine as he passed, just once.

Warm.

Solid.

“Ember will be at the hotel,” he said. “She’ll fuss over me. She’s worse than Stella when I let her.”

That made me snort despite myself. “That’s not possible.”

“She’ll try.”

“You’ll need backup.”

“I’ll take a gargoyle,” he said, half-teasing, but I could see him calculating. “Flanky still has one wing. Maybe he’d like the change of scenery.”

I didn’t laugh.

Instead, I moved to the door and leaned against the frame. “You could stay just one more night here.”

“I could,” he said. “But it wouldn’t change anything.”

“You’re that eager to get away from me?”

That time he did flinch, just barely, but enough for me to catch it.

His hand rose and he cupped my cheek briefly, thumb brushing just under my eye. “Never.”

The word caught in my throat.

“I need to feel like I still have a life,” he said. “A place that hasn’t been touched by blood and curses. Just for one night. Just long enough to remember who I was.”

And that was it. Keegan knew he was forgetting who he was. This curse had taken hold in a way none of us could understand.

I swallowed against the knot rising in my chest.

He wasn’t wrong to crave that, but I wasn’t ready.

Still, I nodded. “Fine. But I’m walking with you.”

“No—”

“You don’t have the energy to argue.”

He sighed but didn’t fight me. “Halfway.”

“Three-quarters.”

He gave me a crooked smile. “You’re terrible at compromising.”

“And you’re terrible at resting.”

We left his room and moved through the back corridor, passing a pair of students laughing loudly near the lantern stairs.

They quieted as we passed, unsure whether to nod or flee. I recognized one of them from Luna’s weaving group. She had yarn clinging to her robe and a half-finished charm looped around her wrist like a bracelet.

Keegan gave them a curt nod.

The rest of the Academy was subdued. Warm, quiet, oddly peaceful despite the weight that lingered just outside the Wards. You wouldn’t know, looking at it, that the sky had darkened with ancient shadow.

But I knew.

And so did Keegan.

We slipped through the last set of doors and out into the summer air. Crickets chirped. Somewhere in the distance, someone played a stringed instrument, notes slow and curling through the trees like incense.

Keegan walked slower than usual, but he didn’t stagger.

And me? I walked beside him like someone holding a spell she couldn’t cast yet.

We wandered through the Butterfly Ward and through the familiar alley and that was where I stopped.

The village shimmered at the edges, summer mist curling up between lantern posts. Whatever came next, we’d face it together. Even if the truth buried in the past threatened to unmake everything we thought we knew, but for now, I’d let him go alone, because I wouldn’t be far.