Page 66 of Magical Mission
This time, the eruption was louder as if something was trying to breakthrough.
The temperature dropped.
A gust of air whooshed through the grand entry, scattering papers, lifting cloaks, and yanking loose a ribbon from someone’s braid.
I turned toward the corridor where the light had shimmered.
Nova came sprinting through the far end just then, her expression grim.
“Everyone out of the foyer. Now!” I hollered.
Students jumped at my voice, and a few hesitated. But when the chandelier above usflickered,thenshuddered,they started moving.
Fast.
Students' shoes scraped and satchels were grabbed. Rising murmurs of fear replaced laughter.
“Maple Wing dorms, now!” Nova snapped to one group. “Bella, go with them. Check for residuals!”
Bella, already half-running, waved a hand and muttered a chant under her breath that sent a wave of warmth spreading behind her, gently but firmly pushing students back.
Ardetia appeared next, stepping out of a shadow like she’d been born from it. Her face was a mask of calm, but her eyes were glowing faintly. That was never good.
I turned back to Twobble, still clutching my sleeve like a child in a thunderstorm.
“You came to tell me something,” I said over the rising noise.
He nodded frantically. “I think it might beconnected.I was going to tell you—”
CRACK.
This time, the sound was different.
Something in the veryfoundationof the building echoed. A piece of the stone railing up above snapped with a spiderweb fracture and landed in a clean chunk on the floor below, missing a student’s foot by an inch.
Twobble yelped and ducked behind me.
Nova was yelling something, but my ears were ringing now. The light above the foyer window dimmed then flared.
Silver. Cold. Familiar.
No. Not familiar.
Wrong.
This magic didn’t belong here.
I knew it before my mind had even caught up.
I’d felt it in my dream.
I turned to Ardetia. “Can you isolate it?”
She didn’t answer. Her lips were moving in a whisper of words I couldn’t hear, her hands weaving a sigil into the air. The lines glowed black and violet, the edges fluttering like moth wings.
Twobble tugged on my arm again, frantic now. “Maeve, it’s a—”
BOOM.
