Page 39

There was no time for a homecoming.

The shadows moved too fast for that. They didn’t wait for explanations or heartfelt reunions.

They twisted and poured like smoke slipping from a cursed lantern, spilling across the cracked stones of Shadowick in long, reaching tendrils.

Their bodies weren’t fully formed. They were fluid, flickering shapes barely held together by spite and magic, but their intent was clear.

Attack.

Celeste’s hand slipped into mine, her fingers trembling as her gaze darted to the shapes forming in the street. “Mom… what are they?”

“Stay behind me,” I said, tightening my grip.

They moved without sound. There were no footsteps and no growls, just a rising pressure in the air like the whole world was holding its breath.

One of the shadow dancers slithered up the side of a building, then flung itself down, landing in the street without a sound. Its limbs cracked at odd angles, too long for a human body, too fluid for a beast.

I threw up a barrier spell out of instinct, more reflex than thought, and the shadow slammed into it, rebounding like water against rock.

“Whoa,” Celeste hissed.

The shadow slithered to the ground.

For now.

But they were gathering.

Dozens of them.

Maybe more.

My skin crawled as I pulled Celeste behind a fountain, the crumbling marble long since overtaken by moss and soot. The shadows circled, testing my charms, flickering in and out of view.

I was certain the charm Nova gave me was telling her not only was I alive, but my heart was pumping faster than it ever had before.

“Where’s Darren?” Celeste whispered.

I didn’t answer. I didn’t care.

I needed to protect her. To make a plan. I wished I could call Keegan, tuck her behind him, and say, 'Keep her safe,' but that would give away his location. And Frank’s. And if Gideon was bluffing when he said he knew where everyone was, revealing anyone now would hand him what he wanted.

I had to trust that they were still in place and that everyone remembered the plan, even though it had changed drastically.

A shadow lunged again, but this time at Celeste.

I reacted on instinct, whispering a command under my breath.

The earth cracked and shot up like a shield of stone and roots.

The dancer whistled—not with breath, but with a vibration that buzzed in my ears.

Another one followed, sliding low across the ground like ink poured into rainwater. It darted toward my legs, fast.

I swept my arm in a wide arc, channeling the heat that had been brewing in my core since Celeste showed up.

The fear, rage, and love sent a blaze of golden light toward the street. The shadows shrieked and flung themselves back, edges curling like burning paper.

They could be hurt.

Not killed. Not yet. But slowed.

Celeste gasped behind me. “That… was that magic?”

“Yes,” I said. “Yours too, someday. But not now. Stay close.”

We darted for cover between two buildings, my breath ragged. The lights in the shop windows flickered as if the town itself had begun to glitch. Shadows clung to the doorways and eaves, writhing like parasites.

Another one lunged, and I ducked low, flinging my hand forward, but this time the spell came slow. I hadn’t recovered enough energy, and it clipped the creature rather than banishing it. It shuddered, then reared up, eyes like black flames.

I didn’t have time to brace.

Then, thwack , a broom handle came swinging from the side, cracking the shadow mid-arc and sending it flailing backward into the wall.

“Never underestimate an old woman with good aim,” Stella said, her voice dry as ever.

She was beside me now, hair pinned up, cloak streaked with soot, and brandishing her broom like a war axe. Electricity zipped down the bristles.

But more shadows darted toward us.

Celeste gaped. “What are you people?”

“Family,” Stella said. “Get behind your mother.”

More movement across the square. Ardetia flickered into view, her expression grim and furious, thin knives of light spinning around her fingers like blades of dancing moonlight. She launched them into a cluster of dancers that had begun to merge.

Two creatures fused into something larger, more monstrous, and I was so grateful for everyone.

Bella appeared on the rooftop above, her fox form shimmering as she launched herself down onto one of the shadows with a snarl, disrupting the perimeter.

Nova moved like a storm, quiet and direct, casting runes into the ground as she walked. Where the symbols glowed, the shadows stuttered and fell back.

They’d all remembered, every one of them, fighting in their way.

Even Skonk, whom I spotted near the old bell tower, was tossing small enchanted pebbles with alarming accuracy, each one exploding into shimmering nets that tangled the dancers’ limbs.

The moon above pulsed. A low hum of magic built in the marrow of my bones.

The Moonbeam was nearing its apex, and the curse would respond soon.

That meant Gideon would, too.

“Maeve!” Nova shouted over the chaos, sending a ribbon of flame through the legs of a towering shadow. “We’ve got this side! Go!”

“Go where?” I shouted back.

But she didn’t answer.

Because maybe that answer had to come from me .

I turned to Celeste, who was watching with wide, stunned eyes. “You still with me?”

She nodded.

“Good.” I pulled her into a brief hug, pressing my forehead to hers. “I’m sorry this is how you had to find out.”

“I think I prefer it over a PowerPoint presentation,” she said faintly.

I huffed a laugh. “Okay. Let’s move.”

We ran past flickering storefronts where the mannequins had come alive and were helping fight, past trees whose roots were extinguishing shadows underground, along glowing lanterns that dimmed to throw off the enemies’ sight.

But none of them were helping Shadowick.

The Academy wasn’t visible from here, but I felt its pulse in my veins. It was awake. It was listening.

And I had one job left.

Break the curse.

But first, I had to survive.

We ducked beneath an awning as three more dancers lunged, only to be blasted back by Mara and Vivienne, arms entwined as they shouted a spell in tandem. Their magic crackled like starlight—unrefined, wild, but so effective.

Lady Limora stood in the center of the square now, her hands lifted to the sky, drawing down the moon’s light in threads so bright they looked like silk. Her power was older, deeper, woven into the fabric of what held us upright.

I met her eyes.

She nodded.

I knew what she was saying without words, Get to the center of this. Finish what you came here to do.

I turned back to Celeste.

“I have to go to the mansion.”

Her face paled. “Why?”

“Because that’s where this ends. I need you to go with Lady Limora. She will take you to Keegan.”

Lady Limora nodded.

“And please tell Keegan to take my dad out of here and have him return to watch Celeste.”

“Grandpa is alive?”

“Yes. More on that later.”

And in my gut, I felt it. One way or another, this night would finish something.

The curse.

The hold Gideon had on this place.

Or maybe…

Maybe even the secrets I hadn’t dared to face.

I’d whispered instructions into Stella’s ear. Nova had given a curt nod, her jaw tight. They would stay. They would guard her.

And I would run.

Not from fear, but because I had something to finish.

I bolted down the alley.

The shadow dancers gave chase.

I left Celeste in the square to be taken by Lady Limora.

It went against everything I had, every cell in my body screaming to keep my daughter at my side, but emotions didn’t win wars. They got people killed.

Celeste had her back pressed against the enchanted lamppost where Stella, Nova, and Lady Limora had woven protection into its iron base just hours before. A quiet sigil now pulsed just beneath the peeling paint, invisible unless you knew to look.

She was safer there than anywhere else because the shadow dancers were after me. Gideon had made that so.

Shadowick was twisted, cursed, and shattered by time, but within its core, our spirits were strong. My magic was strong. The protections we’d laid down were holding. And out there, beyond the edge of this forgotten mirror village, the curse roamed like an unbound predator.

The fog swallowed the road fast behind me. The streets of Shadowick had changed again. But I remembered enough.

Even with the twists.

Even with the lies in the corners of this place.

The cobblestones beneath my boots were wet and uneven.

Some shifted beneath my weight, others held steady like old friends.

I darted past the bakery with its cracked windows and the faint smell of burnt cinnamon still curling out like a ghost. The cracked shutters clattered against the brick like they were clapping in time with my heartbeat.

I passed the ink shop with its sign swinging wildly, the carved feather dipped in black, whispering in a language I didn’t know but felt deep in my bones. The buildings leaned in as I ran, like they wanted to watch me fall.

But I didn’t fall.

Not now.

Not with my daughter behind me and a monster ahead.

Or maybe, they wanted me to rise for them.

The fog thickened near the split in the road. One led to the old cemetery, and one curved up the hill to the mansion.

I didn’t hesitate.

The gate. The mansion. Gideon.

It was always meant to end there.

Every memory I had of this place, with the illusions, shimmers, the drills, the practice rounds back at the fake Shadowick we’d conjured from thin air, all blurred with the living nightmare of this version. The real one.

My feet carried me up the incline, heart pounding, lungs burning. Somewhere behind me, the bells from the watchtower clanged twice. A warning. A ward holding. Or breaking. I didn’t look back.

The wrought iron gates appeared in the mist like teeth, with tall, sharp, jagged things clawing at the moonlight. Vines crawled up their sides like veins, pulsing faintly with that sickly, silvery glow that always felt too cold to be natural.

And there he was.

Gideon.

Standing just beyond the arch. Still. Centered. As if he’d been waiting for me all along.

The mist didn’t touch him. The fog coiled around him but never crossed the space he occupied.

He was dressed in black, a cloak hanging loose over one shoulder; his shirt was high-collared and fastened with the kind of silver buttons that reflected moonlight like eyes.

He’d changed clothes.

His expression was unreadable. Not smug. Not angry.

Just… patient.

Like this was all part of the plan.

“Maeve,” he said, his voice low and calm. “You came.”

I skidded to a stop a few feet from the gates. I wasn’t afraid of entering.

Not anymore.

“You knew I would,” I said. My voice didn’t shake.

A corner of his mouth lifted. “I always hoped.”

“Where are your shadow guards now?” I asked. “Hiding in the fog, or licking their wounds?”

He didn’t smile. “They were only meant to soften the edges. Not destroy.”

“Funny way of softening.”

He stepped closer, the gate still between us. “You didn’t bring her.”

“No,” I said. “She stays.”

“And yet,” he said softly, “you know it will come down to her in the end.”

“I’m not here to debate fate,” I snapped. “I’m here to end your curse.”

“Ah.” His eyes glittered like storm-tossed steel. “Then let’s not waste time.”

He pushed open the gate with one hand. It creaked like it hadn’t been moved in a century, but it opened easily.

And still, I didn’t step through.

Not yet.

Gideon tilted his head. “Do you fear crossing into my domain?”

“No.”

“Then why wait?”

“Because this isn’t about you and your kingdom of rot.” My voice dropped. “This is about her. My daughter. I needed her to see it. That was what the Moonbeam was about tonight.”

“See what , exactly?”

“That darkness doesn’t win unless you let it.”

He blinked, slowly. “Is that what you think I am? Darkness?”

“I think you’re a man who got left behind and decided to burn everything on his way out.”

He exhaled sharply. A laugh? A sigh? I couldn’t tell.

“Come inside,” he said again. “The moon doesn’t wait.”

It didn’t. I could feel the pull of it now, heavy in the marrow of my bones.

This was the moment.

No more practice rounds.

No more rehearsals.

Just me.

And him.

And a curse older than anything I’d ever faced.

I stepped through the gate.

And Gideon smiled like a man greeting an old friend just before the storm rolled in.