Page 9

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Twobble said from his perch on my dresser, legs swinging.

I stared at him, as my heart still rattled in my ribs, and my thoughts tangled in a fog I hadn’t left behind.

“No,” I said finally, brushing past him toward the small wardrobe. “I wish it had been a ghost.”

Twobble blinked, eyes narrowing. “So… worse?”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to.

He hopped down with a quiet thud but didn’t press. For once, he let the silence stretch between us.

“I just need a minute,” I said quietly, already halfway to the washroom.

I stepped inside, turned the tap, and let the water heat. Steam curled up the mirror like a Veil, blurring the reflection of a woman who barely recognized her own eyes right now.

Gideon.

His voice was still coiled around my ears, his words echoing as if the dream hadn’t ended at all. “You want to meet me again.” The worst part was that some tiny, traitorous part of me had wanted to understand him, and he’d felt that, exploited it, just like Keegan said he would.

I stepped into the shower before it was ready, welcoming the chill. It shocked the fog out of my mind, and as the water warmed, I pressed my palms flat against the tiled wall and bowed my head.

Why now?

Why, after the kiss with Keegan, when it had been so silent…?

My thoughts turned to the way Keegan’s hand had cradled my face, the way his lips had brushed against mine with a tenderness that made my knees go soft. It hadn’t been a mistake or a moment of confusion. It had been real.

Safe.

And maybe that’s what made Gideon’s timing even more terrifying.

Like he knew.

Like he’d felt the shift in me, that soft, vulnerable space opening between me and Keegan, and decided to poison it.

He always did know how to twist what mattered most.

I shivered, and it wasn’t from the water.

If I let my heart open, would Gideon find another thread to pull?

Would Keegan become a weakness?

A target?

I shut off the water and wrapped myself in a towel, teeth gritted against the swirl of fear and fury.

I wouldn’t let that happen.

I dressed quickly, layering warmth over the cold that hadn’t fully left me. By the time I stepped back into my room, Twobble had set up a biscuit citadel on my pillow and was organizing a defensive perimeter using sugar cubes.

He looked up. “You smell less like nightmares.”

“I feel like a stirred-up potion,” I muttered.

“Still better than boiled over,” he said. “Want to tell me what happened?”

“In a sec.” I hesitated. “But I need to ask you something.”

He perked up immediately, brushing off his hands. “This sounds exciting.”

I sank onto the bed, rubbing my palms together. “Twobble…”

He waited.

“I need you to be honest.”

“Oh no,” he said, blinking. “That’s never how good stories begin.”

“I’m serious.”

“Okay, okay.” He set the biscuit down and scooted a little closer. “Lay it on me, Boss Witch.”

“When you were in Shadowick,” I said slowly, “do you remember the layout? Any specific buildings? Landmarks? Places someone might be able to hide? Or find cover?”

Twobble’s brow furrowed. “Why?”

“I just… I need to know. If we do this, if we cross over, I want to be ready. I want options. I need to know where we might be safe.”

He stared at me for a long moment. Then he nodded and pulled his knees to his chest, eyes narrowing in thought.

“There’s not much that’s safe,” he began.

“But I remember a few things. There was a tower on the north side of the village, bent like a crooked finger. It used to be a watchpost, I think, before everything turned sour. It’s mostly hollow now.

Nothing lives in it, far as I could tell. Too open for shadow-creeps to nest.”

“Could it offer cover?”

He nodded. “Maybe. It’s on the rise, so you can see part of the main street. And it’s stone, thick and old. Feels… less corrupted, I guess.”

I nodded, filing it away.

“There’s also the old well in the center of town. Doesn’t go anywhere, but it’s protected. I don’t know why or how. I just know it buzzed when I got close. Made my teeth vibrate.”

“Warded by whom?”

He shrugged. “Not Gideon. Felt older. Wilder. Could be fae. Could be something that didn’t want him taking everything. It could be Shadowick itself.”

Interesting.

“And there’s an alley,” Twobble added, his voice quieter now. “It’s narrow. Twists wrong. It tries to hide from the buildings around it. I ended up there by accident. Felt like it swallowed sound.”

“Safe?”

“Not safe. But hidden.”

We sat there for a long moment, the fire low, the room still.

“Why do you want to know all this now?” he asked softly.

I looked at him.

Because Gideon had said that he’d see me soon.

Because part of me knew he meant it.

“Because if I’m going into his world,” I whispered, “I want to know how to survive it. We all need to come out together.”

Twobble nodded, solemn and small.

And for once, he didn’t joke.

He just sat beside me in the quiet, biscuit forgotten, while the first light of dawn bled through the window.

After several minutes, he sighed and blinked at me. “Well. That escalated.”

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 and questionably colored in the other. My dad trailed behind us both.

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

“I never spill,” 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 with enchanted 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 little kick in 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 loud cough-sneeze-snort of pure goblin amusement.

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

I groaned. “Stella, please.”

But she was relentless.

“Don’t be coy, darling.” She grinned. “You’re glowing.”

I flushed, folding my arms. “I do not have a glow.”

“You do, ” Twobble chimed in helpfully, reaching for buttered toast from a nearby platter.

I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. “You two are impossible. We have serious issues at hand.”

Stella gasped as if I’d told her the moon was retiring.

I opened my mouth to respond, probably with something scathing and only halfway witty, but the laughter rising in my chest won out.

It was impossible to be near Stella and not be drawn into her theatrical orbit. She had that gift: the ability to cut through fog and sorrow with humor so sharp it left you smiling before you realized the blade.

I laughed. Harder than I had in days. And it felt good.

Even if the night still lingered at the back of my mind, this moment, this laughter, was real.

Stella linked her arm through mine and steered me toward the table like we were co-conspirators in a rom-com. “Keegan’s not here, by the way.”

I looked at her, brows lifted.

“He stayed at the hotel last night,” she said casually. “Something about wanting to let the Academy settle for a night without him brooding in the corridors.”

“Oh.”

“He’s still brooding at the hotel, obviously,” she added with a grin. “But in a more scenic way. And Ember took her morning class to the river to play hide-and-seek, preferably without anyone winning. It’s hard to teach ghostly attributes to folks who aren’t spirit-oriented.”

I let out another soft laugh and nodded. “I bet, but if anyone can, it’s Ember.”

Her eyes softened, and she patted my arm. “You’ve got a lot on your plate, sweetheart. But don’t let that stop you from taking the sweet things when they come. You know, like a kiss from a dashing warlock.”

Twobble pulled up a chair beside me and began dissecting a cinnamon roll like it owed him money. “I second that. Take the sweet things. Especially if they come with abs.”

“Twobble!”

“What? You’ve seen him! I mean, we’ve all seen him, and he’s quite a specimen, even when shifted.”

Stella nearly snorted her tea.

I covered my face with one hand and tried, truly tried, not to smile again.

But it was too late.

The dream still lingered in the shadows of my mind. Gideon’s voice, his eyes, the chill of that fog. But here, in the warmth of the banquet hall, with Stella's drama, Twobble’s antics, and my dad curled beneath the table, those shadows seemed just a little less heavy.

And I knew this for certain.

If I was going to face the darkness, I’d do it on my terms.

With love in my heart.

And a goblin by my side.