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I heard the shriek before I saw Twobble’s green body speed by me and jump on his cousin. At first, I thought it might be some sort of goblin welcome dance, all flailing limbs and screeches. But then I realized Twobble wasn’t welcoming him at all.

He was attacking him.

“You rotten toadstool!” Twobble howled, riding Skonk to the ground like a particularly wrathful squirrel. “You came here ?! You stood on our steps?! Did you enter my room?!”

“Unhand me, you fungus-brained relic!” Skonk yelped, scrambling and kicking, pebbles spilling from his vest like angry marbles. “I was INVITED!”

“By whom? The voices in your sock drawer?!” Twobble screeched, tugging at Skonk’s vest with all the fury of a goblin scorned.

I stood frozen in the entry corridor of the Academy, halfway between breakfast and a perfectly ordinary morning, now watching two green whirlwinds roll across the polished stone floor. A sprite floated above them nervously with a pitcher of juice, not sure whether to intervene or pour a drink.

My dad let out a low, resigned groan from beside me and sank into a seat, clearly recognizing this particular flavor of chaos.

I was suddenly regretting my decision to call Skonk back to the Academy.

“I should stop them,” I murmured.

“No!” Skonk yelped as Twobble tried to shove a decorative rock into his ear. “Let the lady watch! I deserve an audience!”

“You deserve to be banished!”

“Twobble!” I stepped forward, using my headmistress voice , which didn’t often come out, but when it did, it meant business. “Off. Now.”

With a grunt and one final shove that knocked Skonk’s hat askew, Twobble scrambled off his cousin and stood panting, hair sticking up in furious tufts.

He pointed a trembling finger. “He has no right to be here.”

Skonk lay flat on his back like a starfish, adjusting his vest calmly. “I have every right. You can’t own a whole Academy, Twiblet.”

“That’s not my name!”

“It is now,” Skonk said with a wicked grin.

Twobble made a noise that might’ve been a curse or the sound of a toad being sat on.

I took a deep breath and turned to the one who was clearly enjoying himself too much.

“Skonk, explain. Now. Before Twobble sets fire to your pants.”

“They’re flame-resistant!” Skonk chirped, sitting up. “Tested them last summer during a dragon-festival mishap. Don’t ask.”

I gave him a flat look. “There are no dragons.”

“No, but there are plenty of people who enjoy cosplay and lighting up a propane torch. I’ll tell you that much.”

Relief sprinkled through me that the Academy’s dragon secret was still safe within their den, and Skonk didn’t accidentally stumble into the information.

“You two need to behave at Stonewick Academy,” I said pointedly to Skonk.

He sighed. “Fine. I came to offer guidance. Goblin to witch. I happen to know a lot about places like Shadowick. Dangerous places. Places where things don’t stay put, and doors don’t like to open the same way twice. Let’s not forget you want my help.”

I hesitated. “That hasn’t been decided.”

Skonk wagged a finger. “But you’re thinking about it. Which means you’ll need help. Help from someone not afraid of shadows. Someone who blends in.”

“Like mold,” Twobble muttered darkly.

“I am resourceful,” Skonk said proudly. “Also charming. And excellent at throwing pebbles for distraction purposes.”

“You’re a walking hazard,” Twobble spat.

“But useful,” Skonk added, beaming at me.

I turned to Twobble. “I spoke with him earlier. He said he might know paths in Shadowick. Places to avoid. Wards that still hold. You don’t seem to care for him, but should I trust him?”

Twobble’s face twisted into a look of utter betrayal. “You spoke to him?”

“It wasn’t a tea party,” I said quickly. “But the Academy didn’t throw him off the grounds, so I figured I’d follow up.”

Twobble folded his arms. “Maybe it wanted to see how long I’d last before committing murder.”

Skonk pouted. “You wouldn’t last two minutes with my wiles. ”

Twobble lunged again.

“Enough!” I said, catching Twobble’s collar mid-jump. He dangled like a furious cat.

My dad barked once in what I could only interpret as agreement.

I set Twobble down carefully.

“Look,” I said, rubbing my temples, “Skonk may be annoying…”

“Offensively so,” Twobble added.

“But if he does know things we don’t, I can’t ignore that. Not with what we’re planning. Not with what’s coming.”

Twobble looked mutinous, while Skonk looked victorious.

I felt guilty, but I also knew once Twobble took a few deep breaths, he’d want us to explore every avenue, regardless of how irritating.

Twobble folded his arms over his chest and stared into my eyes. “I may not like my twin cousin, but he is, after all, in my bloodline, and we goblins stick together.”

Surprise hit me with this revelation, since moments ago, Twobble had looked like he wanted to eat Skonk for lunch.

“So, you don’t think he’s a spy for Gideon?” I questioned, and Skonk hissed.

“Impossible. We’re linked enough that I would know.” Twobble threw Skonk a withering look. “I may not want to break bread with my cousin, but I do know he is firmly on the side of the light.”

“You're linked to him?” My head tilted slightly.

“There is a lot you still have to learn about goblin families,” Twobble huffed. “But I don’t have the time to teach you at the moment.”

I chuckled. “No, I get it. I get it.”

“Does this mean I’ve passed the test?” Skonk looked amused.

“Because you threw pebbles at me on our first encounter, I don’t exactly feel great about you wandering around the Academy alone.”

Skonk groaned. “You’re putting Twiblet on chaperone duty?”

I nodded and realized my mistake. “I mean, no. His name isn’t Twiblet. Twobble will guide you.”

Twobble’s eyes narrowed. “If you even try to hex a single cat or whisper at a charm, I will fill your pillow with whisper-bees.”

I had no idea what those were, but they didn’t sound good.

“I’d expect no less,” Skonk said with a flourishing bow. “You always did know how to make a guest feel welcome. ”

“Don’t push your luck.” He eyed his cousin.

I turned back to the corridor and led them both toward the small sitting chamber just off the main hall.

I tried not to think about how my morning had turned into a goblin cousin rivalry showdown.

Shadowick was calling, the Moonbeam was coming, and like it or not… this circus was going with me.

We had barely made it into the sitting room when the first few students began to shuffle by, casting curious glances through the open archway.

Twobble was still glaring at Skonk like he was trying to manifest a slow-acting hex with the sheer force of will alone.

Skonk, meanwhile, had draped himself across an armchair like a lounging cat who’d just broken into the cream cabinet, legs crossed, fingers idly tossing one of his gleaming pebbles into the air.

The tension was simmering, and now, students were circling.

I caught one of them, a tall fae with silver-dusted freckles, whispering animatedly to a classmate near the staircase. One glance in their direction, and they scattered like enchanted pigeons.

“This is going to turn into a scene,” I muttered.

“It already is one,” Twobble huffed. “And he’s the lead actor.”

Skonk gave a pleased sigh. “If the shoe fits, sparkle it.”

“Enough,” I said. “We need quiet. Privacy. Somewhere less visible. This is not the kind of thing that should be shared by word of mouth before I’ve had a chance to make a single decision.”

Too late.

The corridor outside was now actively murmuring, a low buzz of excitement building.

I spotted another pair of students practically vibrating with curiosity near the base of the stairs.

One of them had pulled out a parchment notebook and was already sketching Skonk with alarming accuracy. He struck a pose, of course.

I squinted my eyes shut, and that was when I felt Ember show up.

She ducked into the sitting chamber with her usual blaze of wind-warm energy, hair tied in a messy braid, cheeks flushed, clothes fit for another era.

“What is going on?” she demanded, looking between the two goblins. “There’s a rumor you’re hosting dueling goblins. Is that true? Because I love that.”

Twobble groaned and melted halfway off the couch.

“Just a disagreement,” I said quickly. “Resolved. Mostly.”

“Resolved?!” Skonk scoffed. “You think I need a chaperone.”

“Oh, poor you,” Twobble said flatly. He snapped his fingers, and his cousin turned blue before dropping back to his matching shade of green.

“What was that for?” Skonk scowled. “I’m not the one who needs to cool off.”

“Yes, you do.” Twobble turned his nose up at him.

Before I could intervene, Stella arrived, sweeping in like a midnight storm cloud wrapped in crushed velvet.

“You’re drawing a crowd,” she said to me, eyes already scanning the hall. “People are whispering words like attack, showdown, and love triangle. I’m invested. What did I miss?”

“Everything and nothing,” I sighed.

She glanced between the goblins, eyes gleaming.

More footsteps.

Nova entered next, flanked by Bella and Ardetia. Nova’s expression was serene, but her eyes sparkled with intrigue.

Bella headed straight for the tea tray like she owned the room, while Ardetia took a seat near the window, barely making a sound, her presence humming like wind through the trees.

And then came Keegan.

He leaned in the doorway, arms crossed, dark brows raised. “Did I miss something, or is this some kind of magical intervention?”

“More like a family reunion,” I said.

His gaze flicked to Skonk, then back to me, unreadable.

“I leave for one night,” he muttered. “One.”

I clapped my hands to get everyone’s attention.

“Okay,” I said loudly, “before anyone assumes I’ve started an outreach program for rogue goblins, let’s all just pause.”

Skonk beamed. “I’m glad you brought everyone together. I was just explaining how I’ve been officially asked to assist with the upcoming Shadowick expedition—”

I raised a hand and laughed, cutting him off. “I never said that.”