Page 156 of Magical Mischief

He arched a brow. “You brought her.”

Stella grinned. “And cookies.”

“Then I’m listening.”

He led us into the small lounge just off the lobby, a room filled with mismatched armchairs and low tables arranged around a fireplace that gave off just enough heat to make yourcheeks rosy. We settled in, Stella passing out cookies like we were settling in for story hour.

I didn’t waste time.

“Nova crossed the threshold,” I said.

Keegan blinked. “Into the Academy?”

“She walked through the Butterfly Ward,” I said. “No resistance. No magic kicking her back. She’s in. She’s teaching. Or she will be teaching once we get some students.”

Stella’s mouth fell open. “Nova?”

Keegan leaned back in his chair. “So it’shappening.”

I nodded. “It is. The Academy is opening. Slowly, carefully, but it’s happening. The rooms are shifting. Classrooms are forming. And the Academy…it spoke to me.”

Keegan’s eyes sharpened. “What did it say?”

I took a breath. “That I’m the Headmistress. That it’s time. That the curse will resist, but the Wards are beginning to strengthen. And that the first student who sets foot on the threshold will be the sign—the real beginning.”

Stella stared at me, then let out a low whistle. “Well, damn.”

Keegan let out a long breath and nodded, slow and thoughtful. “So, we’re not waiting anymore.”

“No,” I said. “We’re building. We’rereadying.”

Stella passed me a cookie. “You’re going to need a better wardrobe.”

“I just became Headmistress of a school that rearranges its walls depending on mood. I think my sturdy boots are the only thing holding me together.”

She laughed, and Keegan leaned forward, his expression softening.

“You’re not alone in this, Maeve.”

I met his eyes, steady and full of something warm and sure. “I know.”

The fire crackled.

The cookies vanished. And for the first time in what felt like years, everything began to feel like it was fallingintoplace, not apart.

I was too full of it to stop now. The words kept coming, fast and warm, tumbling over one another like they’d been bottled up for too long and finally found their opening.

“There arethreeclassrooms,” I said, shifting forward in my chair so quickly the cushion gave a little squeak. “Not one. Not two. Three.”

Keegan’s brows lifted. Stella, mid-bite into a cookie, paused and narrowed her eyes like she was trying to see the image in her head more clearly.

“Three?” Keegan asked.

“Yes,” I said, nearly breathless. “Nova’s is the third. You should see it. It’s like itgrewout of her. Crystals, herbs, soft lighting, those little hovering lights she always says she doesn’t conjure, but we all know she does. It feels like the inside of her heart. Warm, weird, and full of things that smell like sage and wonder.”

“Sounds like her,” Stella said, settling back, lips twitching into a smile.

“The second one’s more subtle,” I went on. “It’s earthy—like roots and moss. There are botanical charts on the walls, andbooks on languages I’ve never seen. It has these terrariums, and a tree growing in the corner like it just decided to plant itself there. It’s meant for someone fae-touched, I’m sure of it. It’s for Ardetia.”