Page 102 of Magical Mischief

Time to go.

I found Bella in a sitting room, half-buried under a pile of scrolls and rune-marked paper. She didn’t look up when I entered, but she waved one hand vaguely in greeting, the other scribbling something down with a feathered pen that sparkled at the tip.

“I’m heading back to town,” I said.

That got her attention.

She looked up, blinked twice, and tilted her head. “So soon?”

I nodded. “My mom’s still there. And I need to talk to Nova about… well, everything. Besides, it’s probably been longer inside these walls than we realize.”

“True,” she said after a beat. “I’ll hold down the chaos here.”

I smiled. “I just wonder how long we’ve been in the Academy.”

She snorted. “Tell me about it. I found a stairwell today that led to nowhere. And by nowhere, I mean a room full of whispering mirrors.”

I paused at the door. “Try not to get lost in one.”

“No promises.”

“Please let my grandma know I’ve left. I tried to find her in all her usual spots, but this place is endless. We need some sort of intercom or something.”

She chuckled and nodded. “I’ll let her know.”

The quickest way to the town center was out through the Butterfly Ward. Walking down one of the long corridors, I noticed how the Academy felt a little more real. A little less dreamlike.

I stepped into an atrium, and the familiar warmth of the garden air settled around me. It wasn’t a natural garden, not really. Everything clung to magic that allowed for our survival. The way the leaves rustled in a breeze I couldn’t feel. The way the butterflies moved in slow, deliberate spirals overhead.

I stayed on the path, letting my fingertips graze the leaves as I passed and stepped outside using a side entrance.

But then I felt it.

That prickle at the base of my neck. That sense that I wasn’t alone, though no sound had betrayed a presence.

I turned my head toward the Butterfly Ward.

There. Just at the edge of the garden.

A figure.

A flicker.

The silhouette shimmered faintly, the edges uncertain, like it wasn’t fully formed or didn’t want to be.

I stopped walking.

The figure didn’t move. But I couldfeelit watching.

My breath caught.

I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. What would I even say?

The silence pressed in.

Then the figure shifted.

Not toward me. Not away. Just… blinked again like candlelight caught in a gust.