Page 98 of Magical Moonbeam
I blinked. “Are you serious?”
“As the grave,” she said, then smirked. “Pardon the expression.”
Keegan gave me a little shrug that was oddly endearing. “It’ll be good for you. For all of us. Even Twobble’s coming.”
I arched a brow. “Twobble agreed to leave the grounds?”
“He said he would if Skonk wasn’t allowed to choose the music,” Keegan said.
“That seems fair.”
“Come on,” Stella said, her tone softening. “You’ve done enough today, Maeve. And you’ll do more tomorrow. But tonight, let’s act like we’re just people for a few hours. Friends. Not witches and shifters and guardians of all that’s holy and cursed.”
Her words curled around me like warmth from a hearth, unexpected and deeply needed.
The thought of one of the town’s candlelit cafés, the cobbled streets dotted with lanterns, the quiet joy of watching people laugh instead of worry pulled something loose inside me. A reminder of who I wasbeforethe weight of curses and illusions.
I exhaled, finally letting my shoulders relax.
“All right,” I said. “But if Skonk shows up in a top hat, I’m out.”
Keegan grinned. “No promises.”
And just like that, I let myself be led toward the stairwell, toward the heart of Stonewick and something I hadn’t realized I was starving for.
A moment to simply be.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The sun had dipped just below the treetops by the time we made it to the edge of the Academy’s grounds toward town. Fireflies blinked lazily above the hedgerows, as if even they were content to stroll instead of dart.
Stella looped her shawl around her shoulders, the violet fringe catching the wind as she walked with the elegance of a woman who had seen centuries of style trends and dismissed them all. Keegan walked beside me, his gait loose and easy, and the quiet closeness between us hummed like an unseen tie.
Stonewick looked lovelier than ever, and I wasn’t sure if it was the season, the company, or maybe the sheer, aching awareness that this might be the last calm night before everything changed.
Spring had fallen across the village like a spell. Pale blossoms dangled from silver-limbed trees along the main lane. Lavender spilled in thick cushions from window boxes, and vines crowned the signs above storefronts with tiny, star-shaped blooms. Even the moss along the cobblestones looked deliberate, as though nature itself had a sense of design here.
We passed the bakery first, the scent of fresh bread curling through the air like a love letter.
As we reached Luna’s yarn shop, I slowed, tugging gently on Stella’s arm.
“I’ll catch up,” I said. “There’s someone I want to invite.”
Keegan tilted his head. “Luna?”
I nodded. “She’s been running evening classes for the midlife students. She says it’s only yarn, but I think she’s helping them remember what joy looks like. I still haven’t quite persuaded her to come inside the Academy.”
He gave me a soft smile and gestured for Stella to keep going. “We’ll grab a table.”
The bell above Luna’s door gave a soft chime as I pushed inside. The scent of lavender, wool, and something faintly like cinnamon met me instantly.
The shop glowed with a gentle light, its lamps tucked into shelves, warm globes hanging low on twisted cords, and candles nestled in teacups scattered along the walls. Yarn spilled from baskets in cascading rainbows, and a group of midlife students were gathered around the big central table, laughing softly as they worked on a project involving tiny knit gnomes and magical thread that shimmered with faint runes.
Luna looked up from a skein she was winding, her hair pinned up with a pair of copper needles that matched the lace she always wore around her sleeves.
“Maeve,” she said, her face blooming with surprise. “Do you ever take a rest?”
“I could say the same for you,” I teased, eyeing the pile of mystical stitches.
