Page 29 of Magical Moonbeam

I chuckled and shook my head, knowing we were closer to Shadowick’s secrets now more than ever.

But even as we planned, I couldn’t shake the thought circling the back of my mind like a shadow with teeth:

Why did Gideon come to me the night I let myself want something real?

Something like Keegan.

And what would he take from me next?

I had to shake my worries away and focus on logical next steps, not to mention running a school.

By the time I stepped into the corridor, the warmth of the shower had faded, but at least some of the cold from the dream had loosened its grip.

Twobble trotted along beside me, carrying a cracked biscuit in one hand and a tiny mug of something steaming andquestionably colored in the other. My dad trailed behind us both.

“You’re going to spill that,” I warned as he sloshed around a corner.

“Ineverspill,” he said indignantly, then promptly tripped over Frank, who sped up from his usual bulldog shuffle to just ahead of us.

“You sure?”

“I’m a professional,” he replied, just before nearly colliding with a suit of armor.

My dad didn’t even blink.

I shook my head and tried not to smile as we passed a row of windows gleaming with early morning sun. The Ward outside shimmered faintly, the light catching in pinks and pale blues. It made the night feel just a little farther away.

We made our way down the wide main hall and followed the scent of toasted bread, cinnamon, and something that smelled suspiciously like caramelized sugar. The closer we got, the more the corridor buzzed with cheerful noise—laughter, chairs scraping, footsteps, and the occasional delighted squeal from a sprite zipping overhead.

The double doors to the banquet hall were already open, and the moment we stepped inside, it was like stepping into another world.

The vaulted ceiling glowed with soft enchantments, reflecting the colors of the season. Golden leaves drifted lazily through the air, vanishing before they touched the floor. Long wooden tables stretched across the room, already filled with students and teachers, chattering over plates stacked withenchanted breakfast creations. Sprites darted between the tables like waiters on a sugar rush, placing warm buns, fruit, and tiny glasses of glowing juice with impossible speed.

We hadn’t made it ten steps in before I caught her eye.

Stella.

She was seated at the staff table with her usual flair, wearing a large sunhat tipped dramatically over one eye (despite being indoors), a velvet scarf in late-autumn plum, and a teacup balanced perfectly on the arm of her chair like it was born to be there.

She saw me instantly.

And flashed a wicked grin.

She rose without ceremony and glided across the room, skirt swirling like she was making an entrance on stage. When she reached me, her crimson lips curved even higher.

“Well, well, if it isn’t our headmistress with a littlekickin her step this morning,” she purred, eyes twinkling.

I blinked. “What—?”

She didn’t give me a second.

“Was it a late-night spellwork session?” she asked innocently. “Or perhaps something a bit more...soul-stirring?”

Twobble let out a loudcough-sneeze-snortof pure goblin amusement.

My dad huffed again and turned to investigate a nearby plate of sausages.

I groaned. “Stella, please.”