Keegan touched my arm. “And the Butterfly Ward?”
I turned to Celeste, brushing a leaf from her hair. She looked tired, but her eyes were sharp. Awake.
“We’re going there together,” I said, meeting both their gazes. “The three of us. Then we all meet back at the Academy gates. As one before we go in.”
They nodded, no hesitation.
This wasn’t just a Ward check.
This was the moment before the plunge.
And we’d face it side by side.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
We didn’t walk. We ran through branches that clawed at our sleeves and mud that refused to let go of our boots.
The Moonbeam’s echo still shimmered on my skin, like my magic hadn’t quite let it go, like it was trying to remind me that it wasn’t finished yet, that tonight wasn’t over.
Ahead, the path to the Butterfly Ward pulsed with a faint glow. It was always the most beautiful of the four, overgrown in a way that whispered not neglect, but stubborn life. The vines there remembered everything.
Keegan ran at my left, every movement like a river controlled by a single force: get there. Keep her safe. Celeste kept pace with surprising ease on my right, breath hitching slightly but never once slowing. I couldn’t tell if it was her age or her fear pushing her.
“Mom,” Celeste finally said between sharp inhales, “what’s actually happening?”
I slowed just enough to glance at her. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair as wild as I felt, and a leaf was tangled near her shoulder. She looked like the child I used to chase through appleorchards and fields of clover, but her eyes were older now. So much older.
Before I could speak, Keegan cut in.
“The Wards,” he panted, “they’re weakening. All four of them are bound to the curse over Stonewick. If one collapses, the others lean harder. If two fall…” He shook his head.
I filled in the rest. “The Academy collapses. Stonewick fractures. And Shadowick… pushes through.”
Celeste's mouth parted slightly. “So, a worst-case scenario situation.”
“Only if we don’t get to the Butterfly Ward in time,” I said. “Or the others.”
She didn’t miss a beat. “And let me guess, this Ward is guarded by enchanted vines, ancient light magic, and possibly a moth the size of a small SUV?”
Keegan snorted. “You’re not entirely wrong.”
“Great,” Celeste muttered. “You know, all this would be easier if my mom knew how to fly.”
That made me laugh.
Loud. Sharp. Startling.
A real laugh that tasted like cold air and absurdity and something strangely comforting.
“Good point,” I wheezed. “Next time I reincarnate, I’ll pick wings over sarcasm.”
“Never too late to learn,” Keegan teased.
“Seriously?”
Celeste grinned. “Wings and sarcasm. Best combo.”
Keegan glanced sideways at me, a crooked smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Don’t give her ideas.”