Page 118 of Magical Melee
I said it as if I knew what that actually meant. I had seen an illustration of one in a book, but this...wow.
“I can’t believe I got to see a Tunnel Sprite. This is so exciting. Are you serious?”
“No,” Twobble said flatly, his face breaking into a grin. “Maeve, it was a rat. You’re so gullible.”
My excitement deflated instantly.
“A rat?” I repeated, my voice tinged with disbelief. “Are you kidding me?”
“Dead serious,” Twobble said, laughing. “Though, to be fair, it’s averynimble rat. Maybe it has dreams of being a dancer.”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help but laugh with him. “You could’ve let me believe it was something magical for a little longer.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” Twobble asked, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Besides, not every creature in Stonewick is going to be some grand mystical beast. Sometimes, a rat is just a rat.”
We continued on, and the tunnel gradually sloped downward. It felt like we’d been walking for ages, but that was more the desperation of wanting to see the Academy than anything.
Despite the eerie atmosphere, I felt a strange sense of calm, as if the tunnel itself was guiding us toward our destination.
The path finally widened into a small cavern. Its ceiling turned high and arched like a cathedral. The glowing moss here was brighter, and in the center of the space stood a natural stone formation that looked like a table. On its surface were intricate carvings similar to the ones on the hatch above.
Twobble approached the formation and ran his fingers over the carvings. “This is a marker,” he explained. “It shows we’re on the right track.”
“What do the carvings mean?” I asked, stepping closer to get a better look.
“They’re directions of a sort,” Twobble said. “A map for those who know how to read them.”
“And you can read them?”
“Of course,” he said, puffing out his chest. “I’m a goblin of many talents.”
I smiled, watching as he traced the carvings with a practiced hand. Despite his playful demeanor, there was undeniable confidence in the way he navigated the tunnels. For all his jokes, Twobble knew what he was doing.
After a moment, he stepped back and pointed to a narrow passageway on the far side of the cavern. “That’s our route. The gardens are just ahead.”
My heart skipped a beat. “We’re close?”
“Very close,” Twobble said, his grin widening. “Ready to see what the Academy has in store for you?”
I nodded, feeling a mix of anticipation and nerves. “Let’s do this.”
“Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He winked at me, and a smile touched my lips.
Chapter Thirty
The tunnel finally sloped upward, and the air grew fresher with each step. The goblin’s gold along the walls dimmed, and I could see a faint shimmer of moonlight filtering through the cracks above.
We were close. My heart thudded in my chest, anticipation and nerves mingling in a way that made my palms sweat.
“This is it,” Twobble said, stopping to look at me.
He gestured toward a wooden ladder leading to a small trapdoor above. “Your grand exit.”
I glanced at him. “You’re not coming?”
Twobble grinned, his sharp teeth glinting in the dim light. “Ah, Maeve. You wound me with your optimism. I may be many things—charming, resourceful, and devastatingly good-looking—but one thing I’m not is suicidal.”
“What are you talking about?” I frowned.
