Page 12 of Magical Moonbeam
We moved together down the west corridor, past paintings that watched us a little too closely and enchanted sconces that adjusted their brightness like they were eavesdropping. The deeper we walked, the quieter the halls became, until all I could hear was the soft scuff of our boots and the occasional flutter of distant wings, probably book sprites.
As we neared the corridor leading toward the Maple Ward, Keegan glanced at me.
“You’ve got that look,” he said.
I raised a brow. “What look?”
“The one that says you’ve made a decision and you’re about to drag the rest of us into it.”
I bit back a smile. “Not dragging. Inviting. Always inviting.”
His low laugh warmed the air. “Right. Inviting us to whatever wild idea you’ve cooked up this time.”
“I promise, no one will be transformed into a vegetable, and I won’t turn my dad into something the size of a school bus.”
“Again.” He flashed a wry grin.
“That was once. And it worked, right? We got him back.”
“And that is what I love about your type of magic.”
“You mean the kind where I don’t know what I’m doing?”
“The kind where you let your imagination run.”
“They’ll be here soon,” I said.
Keegan turned toward me, the gold flecks in his hazel eyes catching the sun from the glass ceiling high above. “Whatever your plan, you’ve got them. You’ve gotus.Just say the word.”
The Maple Ward shimmered as we stepped beneath its leafy canopy.
Soft golden light filtered through the branches from the glass ceiling, casting dancing patterns across the stone path. The sapling that had once trembled in the cold silence of neglect now stood tall and vibrant. Its trunk had become a rich cinnamon hue, with bark glistening faintly with fresh sap. Leaves rustled overhead like whispered applause, and the scent of maple sugar and clean earth filled the air.
The Ward was healing, just like the others.
Stella arrived first, skirt swishing dramatically as she stepped into the clearing with her teacup still in hand. Her red shawl nearly dragged behind her in a rush.
“Oh, it’s absolutely glowing today,” Stella said, looking up with a sigh of admiration. “Feels like stepping into a maple syrup jar.”
Nova followed with her usual grace, a sage bundle tucked into her belt, and her sharp green eyes already scanning the ground for runes. Bella and Ardetia arrived silently, one light on her feet, the other as silent as wind through a veil.
Keegan stood beside me as we gathered in a loose circle around the maple tree’s base, where the light was warmest and the air thick with old magic. A few butterflies drifted lazily between us, as if summoned by the unknown pulsing here.
I took a breath and stepped forward.
“I brought you here,” I began, my voice steadier than I felt, “because something is shifting. Not just in the Wards, but in me, too.”
They watched, silent, waiting. Trusting.
“I used to think we were just here to survive what came next. To patch the holes, to hold the line. Break the curse against us, but I don’t believe just that anymore.”
The leaves above rustled louder, and somewhere nearby, the sapling shimmered brighter, as if it were listening.
“I feel an urge stronger now than I ever have,” I continued. “There’s a way not only to break the curse, but toturn Shadowick around.To stop it from being a place that feeds on what’s broken and instead, restore what was once light and good. It, too, has been cursed.”
Nova arched a brow. “And you’re sure this isn’t wishful thinking?”
“I’ve been known to wish,” I said, a smile tugging at my lips. “But this isn’t that. This is knowing. It’s magic, yes, but it’s also memory. The Wards are growing stronger, not just because of students and spellwork, but because we’re here. We’re connected and grounded, listening to the whispers of light and shadow and willing to search out the light.”
