Page 112 of Magical Moonbeam
“Yeah,” I said, pushing my chair back. “Let’s go.”
Twobble spun on his heel and strode out of the kitchen, the hem of his vest flapping behind him. I threw a quick glance toward the others. Ember’s brow lifted, Opal paused mid-sip of tea, but I didn’t stop to explain.
Whatever this was, I could feel the tension rising like a thread being pulled too tight. I just hoped it wasn’t about the curse. Or the dragons. Or Gideon.
But with my luck, it was probably all three.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The moment we reached the courtyard, I knew something was wrong.
Nova stood just beyond the Butterfly Ward’s archway, her arms folded tight across her chest, her expression taut with something that looked dangerously close to fear. Lady Limora hovered beside her, pale as frost and unusually quiet. They weren’t talking. They weren’t doing anything, in fact, except watching the sky like it had betrayed them.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, breath catching as I stepped forward.
Keegan flanked me, his hand brushing mine instinctively, while Twobble skidded to a halt and sniffed the air like it might hold answers.
Nova turned slowly, and I swear a flicker of guilt passed through her eyes. “It’s early.”
“What’s early?” I asked, my voice clipped. I hated not knowing.
Lady Limora’s gaze cut toward the horizon. “Moonbeam’s Eve.”
My stomach dropped. “That’s not possible. It’s not even afternoon. I have several more hours before I even need to think about it.”
Nova shook her head. “We thought we did.”
“What do you mean you thought? Nova, what’s happening?”
She didn’t answer.
Instead, she turned on her heel, her long coat whispering behind her, and began walking toward the outer courtyard in the oldest part of the garden.
“Come,” she said. “You’ll want to see this.”
The sky was clear, birds chirping, and the spring sun soft on the skin, but something pulsed beneath it all. Like the earth had shifted beneath our feet, and no one had been informed.
Ardetia and Bella were already outside, waiting near the old fountain that hadn’t worked in decades but still shimmered faintly with charms.
Bella’s face was unreadable. Ardetia’s was less so. She looked wary, arms crossed, and shoulders tense. The moment we arrived, they both turned and pointed upward.
I looked, and felt everything in me still.
There, pale and full, the moon had risen so bright and enormous in the daylight sky.
It hovered like a truth too big to swallow. No mist to blur it. No darkness to hide it. Just the stark silver curve of inevitability.
“But it’s not night,” I said softly, eyes fixed on it. “It’s not even close to night.”
“The moon has a will of its own,” Nova said. “It listens to no schedule.”
“Because it is the schedule.” Ardetia pressed her lips together. “This happened once before. Long ago. The moon moved when it was ready, not when we were.”
Bella let out a breath.
“It happened during my first Moonbeam,” she said, her voice low. “I was a child. My family wasn’t prepared. But the moon didn’t wait.”
Keegan swore under his breath, just loud enough for me to hear.
