Page 84 of Magical Mission

“I did. It’s sarcastic.” He rolled his eyes.

I laughed and patted his arm. “You’re doing wonderfully.”

He preened. “I know.”

“Now go sort the ladders and let’s hope that’s it for the morning shenanigans.”

He scampered off like a caffeinated squirrel.

I was halfway through my scone when I felt it—that shift.

The one I’d learned not to ignore where magic tightened in the walls, and the air changed.

And then Keegan stepped into the hall.

He was out of breath, cheeks flushed from the cold, coat dusted with frost. His hazel eyes scanned until they landed on me, and when they did, he crossed the room in long, determined strides.

“Morning,” I said, standing.

“We have a situation.”

“I thought we might.” I shook my head. “Things were too calm.”

He handed me a folded piece of paper. The parchment was heavy, with uneven edges. My fingers prickled as soon as I touched it.

“Where did this come from?” I asked.

“Stella found it on her doorstep this morning. No one saw who left it. The Wards didn’t even ripple.”

I opened it.

One line. Written in old, spidery ink that shimmered silver in the light.

The circle was never broken. Only bent.

My skin went cold.

There was no name. No seal. No symbol.

Keegan leaned in. “Does it mean what I think it means?”

I nodded slowly. “Someone thinks whatever or whoever cursed this place the first time isn’t finished. Just hidden. Bent… waiting.”

“Which is kind of what we know. The Academy opened before we even thought she was ready.”

I nodded. “True. I think we all assumed the curse would be broken before she opened the doors to new students.”

“Yet, here we are, and now we’re getting vague notes and threats left on doorsteps.”

I squeezed my shoulders together sarcastically. “Exciting.”

“You’re sounding like Twobble.”

I chuckled as I thought about this note. We’d barely begun this adventure. And something was already warning us that the past hadn’t finished speaking.

I folded the note and tucked it inside my pocket as I thought about the handwriting. It seemed familiar.

“We won’t let the curse take control again,” I said.