Page 64 of Magical Moonbeam

“I’ve got more,” Twobble said, undeterred.

“Excuse me,” came Skonk’s familiar drawl from behind the staircase column. He stepped out holding a clipboard that looked suspiciously stolen. “I was under the impressionIwould be giving the tour, since I know how to speak at length without boring everyone.”

“You say that like it’s a gift,” Twobble muttered.

Skonk pushed a pair of overly large spectacles up his nose. “I happen to have a flair for theatrical narration. And I’ve only been hexed twice during public presentations, which is better than average for goblin standards.”

“I’m the official Academy guide,” Twobble insisted, crossing his arms and looking to me for backup.

“He’s not,” Skonk told the group in a stage whisper. “He just appointed himself that after the incident with the buttered stairwell.”

“There was no buttered stairwell.” Twobble groaned.

I stepped between them before this turned into a pebble duel.

“Twobbleisour resident guide,” I said gently, patting his shoulder. “And as you’re only here temporarily,” I turned to Skonk with a polite, if firm smile, “we’ll let our permanent goblin handle the tour.”

Skonk placed a hand on his chest. “Wounded. Truly. But fine. I’ll go rearrange the scrying mirrors instead.”

He pivoted with a flair that only a dramatic goblin could pull off and stalked down the corridor, muttering about being underappreciated.

One of the witches, a tall woman with silver-streaked curls and mischievous eyes, leaned toward me with a grin. “He’s kind of cute, though. For a goblin.”

Twobble choked on his own breath. “What?”

The group broke into giggles. Twobble flushed such a vivid green I wondered if he was going to sprout moss.

“I mean,” she continued, shrugging, “I’ve always had a soft spot for the theatrical ones.”

Twobble shook his head like he was trying to reset his entire worldview. “We aredoomed.”

“Only if you don’t hurry up with that tour,” I teased.

He huffed, then turned to the women. “Right! If you’ll follow me, we’ll start with the courtyard, move on to the Maple Ward,and then, if you’re very well-behaved, I’ll let you in on the best hallway for echo testing spells. And yes,” he said, glancing back at the flirtatious witch, “it does include a gravity-defying staircase.”

She winked.

Stella looped an arm through mine as the group trailed after Twobble.

“This,” she said softly, watching the corridor fill with chatter and light, “feels like the beginning of something big.”

“It does,” I whispered.

For once, I wasn’t thinking about curses or shadows or what the Moonbeam would ask of me. I was watching a dream bloom through the stone walls of a place that had waited far too long for its second chance.

The halls of Stonewick were alive.

Chapter Sixteen

For the first time all day, the kitchen was quiet.

I clutched a warm bowl of soup in both hands, thick, root-heavy, laced with rosemary and just enough cracked pepper to feel like a small spell in itself, and settled onto the cushioned bench beneath the tall window. The sky outside had turned the color of river slate, soft and somber, and the Wards pulsed faintly beyond the glass like a heartbeat too far away to reach.

The Academy had been bustling from the moment I opened my eyes. New arrivals. Class reshuffles. More mouths to feed and even more minds to guide. I wasn’t complaining, not exactly, but the stillness of the kitchen felt like balm after so much noise.

I took a slow sip and exhaled.

And then, of course, my thoughts wandered.