Page 26 of Magical Mission

And that, more than anything, settled deep in my chest. We were doing it.

We were bringing magic back to people’s lives.

Realmagic.

The kind that didn’t care how old you were or how many times you’d failed.

It just wanted you to try.

A butter roll whizzed past my ear, followed by a squeal and a muttered apology, and I ducked, laughing so hard I couldn’t breathe.

Nova smirked. “You good?”

I looked around at the chaos, the women, the sprites, the gravy fountain now reluctantly behaving itself.

And I nodded.

“I’m great,” I said. “Terrified, exhausted, out of my depth… and great.”

Because this?

This was what the Academy had always meant to be.

And now, it was alive again.

The feast was in full swing when I felt it.

Not a sound. Not a call. Not even the gentle ring of a visitor summons.

Just a shift.

Subtle, but certain.

Like the stone beneath my boots had exhaled.

I froze mid-laugh, my goblet of mulled cider halfway to my lips.

It wasn’t dread, and it wasn’t danger.

It was aninvitation.

The sensation wriggled through me with a magnetic force.

Without a word, I set the goblet down and pushed back from the spiral-shaped table, murmuring a quick “be right back” to Nova, who raised a brow but didn’t stop me. Kitchen sprites zipped by in a blur, too busy wrangling flying napkins to notice me slipping from the hall.

I moved fast, weaving through the corridors with a sense of purpose I didn’t fully understand but didn’t question.

Because whatever had shifted was meant for me.

The windows lining the grand corridor glimmered with starlight, catching flashes of soft clouds and firefly motes flickering in the air. The Academy always hummed with magic, but now it thrummed, bright and full, like the wind before a spring thunderstorm.

And then I saw it.

Through one of the arched glass panes just before the front entry, I caught a shape.

No…shapes.

My feet stopped cold.