Page 107 of Magical Moonbeam
He was like an anchor to my swirling thoughts.
Keegan was quiet, which was worse than anything he could’ve said.
“I don’t want to overreact,” I continued. “Celeste is just barely into her first real relationship, and I’ve been… cautious. Trying not to project.”
“Which means,” Keegan said gently, “you haven’t asked her the hard questions.”
“No,” I admitted. “I haven’t. But I need to. I think I need to call her in the morning. Really talk to her. And maybe…” I hesitated. “If the curse breaks, if Stonewick is safe again, maybe she could come spend the summer here.”
He glanced at me, a flicker of something lighting in his eyes. “You’d like that.”
“I would,” I said. “More than I realized.”
He gave a slow nod. “Then we’ll make that happen.”
The way he saidwesettled something deep in me. Not a promise, exactly, but something like it. A shared resolve.
The moonlight made the path glow silver-white, and the breeze carried a faint shimmer of magic through the trees, soothing and ancient. Stonewick always felt more alive at night, as if the magic came out to breathe after the world had quieted down. The tourists bounced from one shop to the next, and the locals enjoyed late-night strolls.
But as we walked toward the alley, I noticed Keegan’s silence again. Not the soft, steady quiet from before, but the kind that clung to a thought he hadn’t said yet.
I slowed, tugging gently on his arm. “All right. Spill.”
He glanced at me.
“There’s something you’re not saying,” I added. “And I’m guessing it’s not about dinner rolls.”
He exhaled and looked up at the spires in the distance, golden light still glowing in the tower windows.
“I just…” He scrubbed a hand down his jaw. “I keep thinking about Moonbeam. And you.”
I tilted my head. “You’re worried.”
“I’d be an idiot not to be.” His voice was quiet, but it held weight. “We don’t know what Gideon’s planning. You’ve done everything to prepare, Maeve…more than anyone could’ve asked for. But he’s not like us. He doesn’t follow the same rules.”
“I know that,” I said softly. “But I have to try. I can’t let fear stop me. Not now. You don’t know if you’ll last through the next shift that’s not under your control. My dad is held captive as a bulldog. The town isn’t expanding or growing its magic.”
“I’m not asking you to stop,” he said, meeting my gaze. “I’m asking if you’ve thought about what happens if it doesn’t go the way we want it to.”
The wind picked up slightly, brushing my coat hem against my boots.
“Yes,” I admitted. “I think about that every night.”
He nodded slowly, his jaw tight again.
“But,” I added, “I also think about what happens if itdoeswork. What if we break the curse? What if the Wards heal, the students keep coming, and we rebuild something real?”
He looked at me for a long moment, and then, finally, he smiled. A small one. The kind that didn’t quite reach his eyes but still meant something.
“I like it when you talk like that,” he said. “It reminds me why we fight.”
“I’ll talk to Celeste tomorrow,” I said, quieter now. “And I’ll keep doing the prep. And I’ll try not to lose sleep wondering what Gideon’s next move is.”
“And you’ll let me help,” he added.
I looked up at him, the wind lifting a strand of hair across my cheek.
“Yes,” I said. “I will.”
