Page 55 of Magical Mission
The scent of old paper, wax, lemon balm, and curiosity all blended into a unique moment of magic.
Footsteps approached behind me, light and measured.
“Didn’t expect to find you here,” Stella said, sliding to my side with a fresh mug of tea in hand. “I assumed you were poring over schedules and new student bios.”
“Not yet,” I said softly. “I needed to see this.”
She followed my gaze.
The library was glowing with new students leaning into their second chances. Hope pressed gently against the windows, trickling into Stonewick’s Wards and filling them with each measured second.
Gideon would have a hard time getting past these ladies pretty soon.
Stella handed me the mug. “They look happy.”
“Theyarehappy,” I said. “I just… I wish I could enjoy it without the knot in my stomach.”
“Still worried about what Twobble saw?”
I nodded. “I want to believe we’re safe. I want to believe no one would come here with bad intentions.”
“But?”
I sighed. “But I’ve seen how power makes people desperate. And how easy it is to slip into shadows when no one’s looking.”
She didn’t say anything right away. Just stood with me, shoulder to shoulder, as the light shifted around us.
“Keep watching,” she said finally. “Not with suspicion, Maeve, but with clarity. The Academy will show you what you need to see.”
I nodded slowly, sipping the tea.
She was right.
The Academy had a way of revealing the truth when you were ready for it, even if you felt like you weren’t.
Still, I couldn’t help but glance back one more time.
Just in case.
Because sometimes the brightest rooms still held shadows.
And I intended to find them before they could grow.
I was halfway through shelving a particularly argumentative book on forest-binding spells that I’d found on a table, when I felt a charge run through me. I looked up to see Keegan step into the library.
His presence was like a ripple in a still pond.
He was quiet and steady, but immediately felt.
Keegan paused near the entrance, his broad frame towering in the warm light filtering through the high windows. His footsteps sounded deliberate against the polished stone floor.
I glanced up from the shelf. “You’re either here for a book or to flirt with Lady Limora.”
“Neither,” he said, though his mouth quirked slightly. “I came to find you.”
That got my attention.
I slid the stubborn book into place, ignoring its offended grumble, and turned fully to face him. “Everything okay?”
