Page 36 of Magical Mischief

Stella stepped forward from the shadows, took a sip from her flask, and then held it out to me.

“A little fortification, maybe?” she teased, though her eyes shone with earnest concern.

I shook my head and smiled. “I think I need a clear head for this.”

She nodded, and we stood in companionable silence for a moment, letting the hush of the night blanket us.

Fog continued rolling in, signaling Shadowick’s travels.

Stella touched my arm lightly. “You sure about this?”

“No,” I admitted, letting out a shaky laugh. “But I’ll do it anyway. Dad’s out there, and Gideon won’t let him go unless we force his hand.”

Her lips quirked. “Your father’s lucky to have a daughter as bullheaded as you.”

“He’s counting on me. On all of us.”

Stella nodded. Then, in that voice she used when she was half serious and half mothering, she said, “I’ll be on watch for any passersby. If we see mels or travelers who might… complicate things, I’ll handle it. Gently. A little memory tweak never hurt anyone.”

“Right, you handle the passersby. I’ll handle the spell.” My heart gave a nervous flutter at the word spell.

The wind whistled through the rooftops, and I caught a faint movement above. One of the gargoyles repositioned, scanning the roads that led into the square. It was nearly time.

My boots crunched on the thin crust of snow as we resumed walking. Every nerve in my body buzzed. The circle of runes felt alive under my feet, and I couldn’t shake the impression that the entire town waited with bated breath for Gideon to appear.

I glimpsed Luna peeking behind a curtain in her yarn shop, and my chest tightened. It looked like we might have more backup if needed.

The lamplights flickered, as though signaling what was up ahead.

“I’ll fade into the shadows now, darling. If he sees me, he might guess we’re up to something. But don’t worry. I’ll be close.”

I nodded, and Stella drifted away with that silent grace, tucking herself behind a row of old, half-broken crates.

Standing alone, I let the night air swirl around me, each breath sharper than the last.

My phone buzzed in my pocket with a message from Nova.

In position. Keegan says five minutes until showtime. Gideon is never late.

I wrote back.

I can already feel him.

I swallowed, shoving the phone back with a trembling hand.

Five minutes.

Time for me to recall every line of the spell I intended to weave, every step of the plan. My father’s face glimmered behind my eyes, giving me the courage to stand tall…

So he would stand taller.

As though the world obeyed some unseen cue, the edges of the square filled with a slow-rolling fog. The darkness slithered across the cobblestones, coiling around lampposts, devouring the faint glow of holiday lights.

My pulse spiked, and a chill that had nothing to do with the cold crept through me.

He was here.

Gideon stepped from the mist like a dark star descending—tall, robed in black, eyes gleaming maliciously.