Page 21 of Magical Moonbeam
He sipped. “Mmm. This tastes like safety.”
“So why was he here?”
Twobble's eyes went serious for a moment. “I think he was… sniffing around. Not just the garden.You.He’s drawn to big shifts in power. Moonbeams, thinned Veils, old magic waking up. The usual.”
I frowned. “You think Gideon sent him?”
Twobble shook his head. “Skonk wouldn’t take orders. Not even for a mountain of golden snail shells.”
“But?”
“But he might have smelled somethingworth watching.He treats magic like a hit reality television show, if you know what I mean. And if he’s watching… so is someone else.”
I rubbed my temples. “Great. So now we’ve got a meddling goblin cousinanda dark sorcerer on our tail.”
Twobble slurped his tea. “Welcome to the family.”
I glanced out the window, nearly expecting another pebble to come flying toward the glass.
“Do all goblins really have identical cousins?”
He shrugged. “I mean…don’t you?”
I didn’t even dignify that with a response.
Outside, the garden had gone still again. But something in the air still buzzed—like a ripple that hadn’t finished moving through the surface.
Skonk was gone for now.
But I had the feeling that whatever he'd been looking for… he hadn’t found it yet.
And he’d be back.
Twobble sat sideways on my kitchen table, legs swinging idly, his empty teacup cradled in both hands like it held answers instead of steeped lavender. The earlier chaos had passed—no pebbles, no Skonk, no winged gargoyles spiraling from the heavens.
Just me and him now, wrapped in the quiet of the cottage while the evening thickened outside.
He looked uncharacteristically pensive, and his nose twitched once, and again.
I was about to ask what he was smelling when he asked, quietly, “How are you feeling about Shadowick?”
The question caught me off guard.
Notwhat’s the plan, or do we have enough moonstone, orshould we trap Gideon in a pickle jar,which was more his usual range.
Buthow do you feel?
I looked at him.
“I’m not sure,” I said truthfully. “I keep telling everyone I believe we can turn it around. That there’s still something left to save. But…”
I hesitated and let out a heavy sigh.
“I’ve seen things in dreams, in illusions, and in the mirrors that crackle during the moon phases. It’s like Shadowick seeps into the edges of my mind when I’m most vulnerable.” I shook my head, and Twobble didn’t interrupt.
“I see the town,” I continued softly. “But it’s not like here. It’s cold. Too still. The buildings feel… heavy, as if they’re watching. I see figures moving, but they don’t have faces. Just shadows. And the wind there doesn’t feel like wind. Itpressesdown on a person as if it’s trying to get inside you.”
My voice faltered.
