Page 87 of Magical Moonbeam
And that was worse than anything else he could’ve said.
I shook my head. “You don’t think it’s possible.”
His silence was an answer.
“I want to believe there’s still something human in him,” I whispered.
“There probably is,” Twobble replied gently. “Some thread. Some spark. But that doesn’t mean it’s the part in charge anymore.”
My breath caught.
“Gideon…” Twobble rubbed his thumb across his palm, as if recalling something too sharp to name. “He’s not who he used to be. Maybe he never was. But the man you want to reason with? He’s buried so deep under what he’s become, you’d need more than words to dig him out.”
I turned my face toward the sky. Pale clouds drifted slowly across the blue like wandering thoughts.
Letting out a long sigh, I nodded. “So we have to plan for something else.”
“Yes,” he said. “Because if your heart’s set on conversation, and he shows up with something darker… you’ll get caught in it. You could lose yourself in it. You’re strong, Maeve. But you’re not invincible.”
The weight of those words pressed down on me. It wasn’t cruel or even a warning. It was just the truth.
And I hated that I knew he was right.
“Then we better figure out a different plan,” I said, voice steadier than I expected. “Something that doesn’t depend on him doing the right thing.”
“That’s the spirit,” Twobble muttered, though the sorrow hadn’t left his eyes.
The wind stirred again, and something shifted, almost like the Ward itself felt the change. It felt like the pressure was released or a thread snapped back into place. And through the glowing arch near the garden’s outer edge, a figure walked into view.
Keegan.
Coming from town, sleeves rolled to his elbows, his gait slow and thoughtful. The moment his eyes landed on me, something in his shoulders relaxed.
I sat up straighter, brushing stray leaves from my skirt.
Twobble gave a low groan. “Perfect timing. I’ll just…go inspect that patch of clover for… suspicious root systems.”
“You do that,” I murmured, unable to stop the small smile that tugged at my mouth.
He trundled off with exaggerated huffs and mumbled curses about romance and poorly timed entrances.
Keegan stepped through the last arch, steps quiet on the garden path. “Was I interrupting a summit of some kind?”
“The little guy is so wise.”
He smiled faintly, then looked more closely at me. “You look like you’ve been thinking.”
“Dangerous habit, I know.”
“Depends on the thoughts.”
I shifted on the fountain bench, tugging my shawl around my shoulders. “I was hoping for peace.”
Keegan’s brows lifted slightly. “Between you and Twobble? Twobble and Skonk?”
“Between me and Gideon.”
His gaze sharpened instantly. He stepped closer, folding his arms as he looked down at me. “You were hoping to talk to him.”
