Page 66 of Magical Melee
I stared through the skylight, wishing the nightmare never happened. I could only handle so much.
The room was dark and silent, except for the soft snoring of Frank downstairs. My heart raced as I tried to shake off the lingering fear from the dream.
But it wasn’t just a dream. It felt too real, too vivid. The man and the town… the eerie sense of being watched—it all felt like a warning.
Or worse, a promise.
My hands trembled slightly as I scooted back under the covers and prayed.
And wondered what he’d meant by the curse.
But one thing I knew for certain. I’d been to wherever that man was, and I intended to never go back.
Chapter Seventeen
I woke up to pressure on my chest and the unmistakable sensation of something—or someone—hopping up and down on me.
Before I could fully process what was happening, a high-pitched voice pierced through my haze of sleep.
“Come on, come on! So much to do. So much to see!”
I groaned, peeling one eye open, only to be met with a pair of enormous, glimmering eyes staring directly into mine.
“Twobble?” I croaked, still half asleep. “You’re not a morning person, are you?”
Because I most definitely was not.
“Morning? It’s practically midday!” he exclaimed, bouncing excitedly on my chest. “Well, not really, but who’s counting? You humans sleep too much. Get up, Maeve! We’ve got secrets to uncover, and I’ve been waitingforeverfor you to wake up. It’s nearly seven o’clock.”
I pushed myself up on my elbows, forcing him to tumble off me and onto the bedspread with a dramaticoomph.
I glimpsed Frank, who had been snoozing peacefully on the couch downstairs, crack one eye open and let out a long, exaggerated sigh—the bulldog equivalent of a very judgmental frown from below.
“Frank agrees,” I said, smirking at the goblin who now sat cross-legged on my quilt, his big ears twitching with impatience. “What exactly are we doing that couldn’t wait until I’ve had at least one cup of coffee?”
Twobble’s face lit up with a mischievous grin. “Oh, you’ll see. This cottage holds secrets, Maeve. Deep, dark secrets. Well, not all of them are dark, but some are quite juicy! And who better than yours truly to reveal them?”
I rubbed my temples, still trying to wake up fully. “Let me guess. This is another one of your goblin services?”
“Exactly!” he said, puffing out his chest. “The first tour is free. I’ll even throw in some answers to your burning questions. But after that, it will cost ya.”
Frank sat up on the couch, giving Twobble a hard stare from below. His wrinkled face did its best impression of disapproval. Twobble waved dismissively at the bulldog. “Oh, hush, you grumpy lump.”
Frank let out a soft growl.
“Alright, fine,” I said, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. “Let’s get this over with. But if you start bouncing on me again, I’m locking you in a cupboard.”
Twobble gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “You wound me, Maeve. But fine, no more bouncing—unless you fall behind. Now, let’s go!”
I followed Twobble down the steps and greeted Frank, who’d jumped off the couch. His stubby legs worked overtime to keep up as I walked to the windows.
The cottage was quiet with the early morning light filtering through the curtains, casting a soft glow on the wooden floors. Twobble darted ahead, his small frame almost a blur as he gestured wildly at various objects.
“Over here, we have the original hearthstone,” he said, pointing to the fireplace with a flourish. “Laid by the first caretaker of this cottage. Legend says she was a mighty witch, capable of summoning storms with a mere whisper. If you touch the stone, you might be able to feel her.”
“No, thank you.” I raised an eyebrow. “And here I thought it was just a fireplace.”
“Everything has a story, Maeve,” Twobble said, wagging a clawed finger at me. “Even the ordinary. Especially the ordinary. That hearth was carved from the same stone as the town’s original flame ward, imbued with enchantments to guard against dark forces and to anchor the home in a web of protective energy.”
