Page 96 of Magical Mission
“Hexes are romantic gestures. If they’re well-crafted.”
“Maeve.”
“Okay, okay,” I said, laughing. “But you’re basically admitting the Academy isn’t your real job?”
He crossed his arms. “Running an inn that doubles as neutral territory for magical travelers, keeping rogue spell-crafters from charming the linens, managing guests with opinions about the wallpaper—that’s my job. This”—he gestured at the hall—“is... volunteer work. Without hazard pay.”
I smirked and took another slow sip of broth, but I didn’t argue. Not really.
Because part of me was relieved.
Keegan had that way of knowing too much just by watching. I’d felt his eyes on me all day, like he was waiting for me to talk about the Hedge. Or the message. Or the bent circle still echoing in my mind.
And while I trusted him, Idid,there was something inside me that hadn’t found its voice yet. Some instinct still coiled quietly, saying, 'Wait.'
“I’ll be back by dinner,” he said, pushing off the wall and brushing tea crumbs from his sleeve. “You need anything from Stonewick?”
“Short of a whole week where no one casts a spell that bites someone? I think I’m good.”
He nodded. “Well. I’ll leave the biting to the library books then.”
I snorted.
He started down the hall, but not before glancing over his shoulder, just once. “Don’t go unlocking any mysterious doors while I’m gone.”
“No promises.” I chewed the last bite of my panini and smiled.
“Didn’t think so.”
And then he was gone, his long stride already melting into the afternoon bustle as the Academy resumed its daily song of laughter, boots, and magically induced chaos.
I stood still for a few moments after, mug warm in my hands, heart lighter than it had been all day.
But beneath that lightness, the pull remained.
Not to the garden. Not to the Hedge.
To the library.
The place that whispered when no one else was listening.
I wasn’t surprised. I’d been trying to ignore the tug for hours, ever since I stepped back inside the Academy. But it had grown harder to resist, like the stone beneath my feet was humming my name, soft and steady and too familiar to be denied.
And with Keegan gone… I no longer had a reason to put it off.
I was about to set my cup on a windowsill when two kitchen sprites appeared and whisked it away.
Slowly walking toward the library, I let out a deep breath and felt a sense of immense relief. I would find answers. We always did.
Because the best knowledge wasn’t waiting under candlelight and copper-spined tomes.
It was buried.
Waiting.
And it was time for me to start digging.
The moment I stepped into the library, the scent of vellum and ancient ink wrapped around me like an old memory.
