Page 145 of Magical Mischief

“And prepare feasts?” I asked, raising a brow.

She grinned. “Every chance we get.”

And somehow, that made it all feel a little more possible.

One classroom. One feast. One friend finally stepping inside after decades on the outside.

Maybe it didn’t all have to happen at once.

Maybe this was enough for today.

The table filled, plates steaming, glasses clinking. Laughter bounced off the crooked beams, and the snow kept falling.

Soft. Steady. Waiting.

After the feast died down and the kitchen settled into its natural hum again, pots cleaning themselves, chairs scooting back to their rightful places, the kitchen sprites contentedly dozing in the hanging baskets near the hearth, I slipped out. I needed quiet. Space. A little time to think without the press of voices and celebration.

I ended up in the long hall behind the library, with narrow windows and crooked floorboards that creaked no matter how softly you walked.

I liked it here. No one ever seemed to pass through this stretch unless they meant to. It was a hallway made for wandering thoughts, and I had no shortage of those.

Grandma Elira had answered my questions plainly enough, at least on the surface.

“I don’t know that they still have dragons. Your question was about the present, not the past.”

She was right. Technically. Carefully.

She hadn’t lied, and she hadn’t told the whole truth either. That was something I was starting to recognize in her now. It is not exactly deception, but a careful choice of when to speak and when to stay quiet.

I leaned against the stone wall beneath one of the windows and let my eyes drift to the snow-covered courtyard beyond.

What she hadn’t said, what I hadn’t even realized until now, was how much was changing.

The Wards were stirring. One by one. Once all but snuffed, the Flame Ward had started to roar again. The Maple Ward’s renewed strength and purpose were trying with all its might, and the Stone Ward strengthened each day.

And the Butterfly Ward…

Nova had stepped through it today.

That alone said more than any ritual or reading ever could.

The Wards were tied to the land,…but more than that, they were tied to intention. Energy. Life. They protected and repelledbased on balance. When things were wrong, they pulled in. Closed up. Curled tight like a fist around a secret.

But they began to open when something good stirred, and hope was real.

So what did it mean that a baby dragon had been born not too long ago? And another on the way?

I’d felt it. More than once now. That hum in the air, that low, unmistakable thrum in the ground beneath the Academy. Like something breathing just under the surface.

Waiting.

Preparing.

New life had a gravity to it. Especially here. Especially when it came with wings, scales, and old, ancient magic laced through its blood.

The dragons had been silent for so long…hiding, retreating, maybe even sleeping beneath the surface while the curse stretched its claws through the town and the land. But now? They were moving again. Nesting. Breeding.

Living.