Page 15

I didn’t even remember walking back to my room, but I knew Twobble was right behind me every step of the way.

One moment, I was standing between stacks of books, heart pounding from what I’d just overheard, and the next, I was bursting through my door like a woman on a mission with no idea what I was looking for.

My dad let out a snort from the rug near the fireplace, clearly displeased by my dramatic entrance, so he let out a toot, and I glared at him.

“Can we call it even?” I chuckled and walked over to the latest pile of student admissions, curated by the Academy. It seemed every few hours, new students trickled in, and the Academy knew right where to place them.

Twobble, who had followed me all the way up without asking a single question, hopped up onto the nearby side table and watched me rifle through the papers.

“Well,” he said, crossing his arms. “It’s a good thing I’m quick and observant. Nothing like seeing the headmistress darting down the corridors like her life depended on it.”

I didn’t answer. I had a scroll open now, the ink still fresh in places where changes had been made just an hour before, with new additions, shifts in class assignments, and a few latecomers who had finally been sorted into their wings.

I ran my finger down the names, pausing every few lines to scan the notes beside them.

Vivienne, Mara, Opal, Limora... all accounted for. All familiar. I’d spoken with each of them, guided them, and helped them find their way.

But the two women from the library?

I didn’t recognize either of them.

Their voices. Their faces. Not even a vague recollection.

And that bothered me.

“I overheard two students,” I said finally. “In the library.”

Twobble sat up straighter. “Plotting something?”

I nodded. “They were definitely planning something and had kept tabs on whether Keegan was on site.”

He blinked. “That’s… well, that’s unsettling.”

“Mm-hmm.” I nodded. “Not to mention, Keegan had to attend to a problem guest back at the inn.”

“You think it’s connected?”

“Possibly, but I’m trying not to be an alarmist.”

He squinted. “Disappointing. It’s always fun when that happens.”

I stared down at the list again. The names blurred a little at the edges. Most of the students were exactly who they appeared to be, with traits that seemed perfect for the Academy. The perfect combo of hopeful, tired, curious, and stubborn. Women with stories. With reasons for returning to magic.

But what if a few of those stories weren’t true?

What if someone had come not to learn , but to watch ?

“I need to know who they are,” I said, pacing now, mind racing. “If they’re enrolled. If they’re using aliases. What classes they’ve attended. Who’s seen them? Anything.”

Twobble tilted his head. “You want me to snoop?”

“Yes.”

He grinned. “Finally.”

“Discreetly.”

He scowled. “Less exciting, but fine.”

I stopped pacing and turned to him, deadly serious. “I mean it, Twobble. No dramatic flailing. No accusing anyone. No yelling about shadows. Let’s start with previous addresses and aliases. You know, get me nicknames. What they’ve been up to before life at the Academy.”

He swirled his finger dramatically. “I am up for the job. I’ll get you more dirt than you’ll know what to do with.”

I snickered. “Twobble.”

“I’ll be invisible.”

“You’ll be barely tolerable. ”

“Which is my sweet spot, thank you.” He stood. “It keeps people guessing. They don’t know whether to like me or hate me.”

“Nobody could possibly hate you.” I smiled, looking at my goblin friend.

My dad finally stirred and wandered over, giving me a judgmental once-over before nudging my leg with his forehead.

“I know,” I murmured, reaching down to scratch behind his ears. “But we don’t have time to wait and see if this all shakes out on its own.”

Twobble cracked his knuckles and cleared his throat.

“I’ll be back before dessert,” he said proudly. “And if I’m not, assume I’ve been kidnapped and organize a mildly dramatic rescue with at least one battle hymn and the cute goblin from the peninsula.”

“Go forth,” I teased.

He saluted and dashed off, leaving the door swinging behind him.

I sat down hard in my chair with the scroll spread across my desk like a map of the unknown. Dozens of names. Dozens of lives. Each one with magic in their bones, and maybe a secret in their pocket.

The inn dispute wasn’t nothing. The shadows Twobble saw weren’t a coincidence. And hearing two students whisper plans couldn’t be ignored.

And if two people were posing as students, we would figure it out. The Academy depended on it. Our ability to break the curse depended on it.

I pressed my fingers to my temple, fighting off the ache of too many thoughts colliding at once.

There was still time.

Still control.

Still trust.

However, the threads were fraying, and I needed to stitch them before something unraveled too far to be repaired.

Twobble would find these ladies, and we’d get the details. I was sure of it, but first I wanted to check on Keegan and the guest at the inn.

I quickly slipped a jacket on and made my way down the corridor and to the set of doors leading to the expansive grounds, through the Butterfly Ward, and into the narrow alley that would put me in the center of Stonewick.

I tightened my scarf against the late afternoon breeze and started down the winding path toward the town.

The sun was dipping low behind the buildings, painting the sky in streaks of gold and lavender, and for a moment, it all looked like something out of a storybook.

The air smelled of chimney smoke, mossy earth, and something faintly sweet, probably blueberry tarts cooling in someone’s kitchen window.

Stonewick always looked cozy in the fading light. The village was always welcoming and comforting, but not fragile. This little village held its own secrets and its own truths, but did not need to shout them. It just waited quietly for someone to listen.

I passed Stella’s tea shop, the moss-covered wishing well that whispered if you leaned close enough, and the yarn shop with its crooked shutters.

Everything felt familiar.

And that was part of the ache.

Because it hadn’t been that long since I first arrived in Stonewick.

Not really. But it felt like lifetimes had passed since Skye and I had stepped into this town together, both of us wide-eyed and hopeful and a little desperate for change.

She wanted a new addition in her family, and I was glad to rid mine of one.

I could still picture it. Skye bundled in her autumn jacket, and her laughter echoed down the lane as we tried to figure out whether we should go into the tea shop.

We’d spent hours wandering, talking, and discovering every corner of the village.

It had been the first time I felt something in me wake up again.

The first time the ache in my chest from my divorce and everything that came before it had loosened even a little.

Skye had made it easier.

And now?

I hadn’t spoken to her properly in weeks.

I’d sent a text for her birthday: Happy birthday, goddess! You’re almost there! , and she’d replied with a string of emojis and the simple, deeply Skye message: Thanks, babe. This kid is kicking me to pieces. I’m ready to be done being pregnant.

That had been two weeks ago.

I hadn’t followed up. Hadn’t called. Hadn’t asked how she was really doing.

I’d meant to.

I kept meaning to.

But every time I’d reached for my phone, something else had needed me. A spell mishap. A staff meeting. A mysterious whisper in the Flame Ward. The Academy demanded everything I had, and I gave it gladly.

But guilt settled in my stomach now, thick and knotted.

Skye had stood beside me through my unraveling. Through the messy middle of it all. She’d held me up when I didn’t know which direction was forward.

And I’d barely checked in to see how she was holding up now.

With Celeste, I could reason my guilt away because my daughter seemed extremely happy with college life and her new boyfriend. She needed to spread her wings without me meddling, even though every part of me wanted to move next door to her.

It was tough merging these two worlds, but I was doing my best.

I stepped over a puddle that shimmered faintly with leftover enchantment and crossed into the town square. The inn came into view, nestled between the herb shop and the enchanted stationery boutique, its windows glowing with warm orange light.

The inn always looked like it had been plucked from a fairytale and set down in the middle of town by accident. Gargoyles curled up their stone claws, and the wooden sign gently swung with the carved image of a hearth and stars.

Whatever dispute had called Keegan away, it hadn’t broken the inn’s quiet magic.

Not on the surface, anyway.

I pushed open the door and stepped into warmth.

The scent of cinnamon and cloves met me first, followed by the low hum of conversation.

Behind the front desk stood Zenie, a gal who usually worked behind the bar in the lounge. She looked up as I entered, her dark eyes sharp and assessing.

“Maeve,” she said. “You here for Keegan?”

I nodded. “Is he still here?”

“In the back parlor,” she said, jerking her head toward the hallway. “The situation seems mostly calm now, but I think he’s sticking around to make sure it stays that way.”

“Thank you.” I offered her a grateful smile and made my way down the hallway.

The floor creaked beneath my boots, but it was a friendly kind of creak, not a dangerous one.

I let myself breathe.

Everything would be fine. It was probably nothing with those two ladies back at the Academy, and the unruly guest might just be having a bad day.

And tomorrow I’d call Skye. No more waiting. No more excuses. I’d ask about her swollen ankles, the baby name list, and whether she still wanted me to help paint the nursery, even from a distance.

I owed her that much.

No. I owed her more.

And I could do more. Even here. Even now.

The door beside me opened, and Keegan stepped out, rubbing the back of his neck. His eyes met mine, and the smallest grin tugged at his lips.

“You didn’t listen very well when I said not to follow me, did you?”

“No,” I said, standing. “And you knew I wouldn’t.”

He sighed, but there was affection behind it. “Come on. You might want to hear this, too.”

And just like that, the warmth of the inn chilled with something I hadn’t seen coming.