Page 54 of Magical Moonbeam
I turned to her fully, intrigued. “What kind of intention?”
“Personal ones,” she said. “We whisper them into the fog. Bury them at the base of a tree. Let the Moonbeam sort truth from fear. If you’re entering Shadowick… you might want to consider it.”
I exhaled slowly.
Because suddenly, that sounded like exactly what I needed.
A moment of clarity. A thread to follow. A root to plant in the dark.
“Thank you,” I said. “I might do just that.”
Bella gave a quiet smile and returned to her place.
But even as the moment settled and the team refocused, I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were still walking too close to the edge.
And that soon, Gideon wouldn’t just be a game played in fog and illusions.
He would be real.
And I’d have to face him.
The air shifted the moment we stepped out of the conjured streets of Shadowick.
One breath, and the world softened. The cold cobblestones beneath our feet gave way to mossy earth, the fog thinning like silk pulled from the shoulders of a ghost. The illusion behind us still pulsed with quiet magic, but I could feel the difference like a current shifting course beneath my skin.
Shadowick faded behind us, but not completely.
Nova was already raising her hands to the edges of the illusion, her expression unreadable as threads of moonlight and sage-green energy curled from her fingertips. Ardetia stood on the opposite side of the grove, eyes closed, her presence a ripple of old fae magic that hummed low through the roots of the trees.
Between them, a hush fell.
The boundaries of the conjured Shadowick shimmered once, and again, and then it began to sink, not into the ground, but into the folds of magic itself. The village remained, but it folded inward like a sleeping creature, cloaked in warding and softened with concealment. Still there, still real in its own way, but protected. Tucked away for when we needed it again.
Nova lowered her arms, exhaling slowly.
Ardetia opened her eyes, glowing faintly.
“It’s done,” Nova said. “No one will stumble across it or enter. Not even Skonk. Unless you wish it.”
The spell settled like dew across the grass.
I turned to both of them, words suddenly tangled in my throat.
“Thank you,” I said, meaning every syllable. “Truly. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”
Nova offered a small smile. “You’d have figured it out. But we’re better together.”
“Always,” Ardetia added with a nod.
We began to walk back toward the Academy, the path through the woods marked now by soft lantern lights and the rustle of leaves stirred by a friendly wind. A few sprites drifted above us, one lazily carrying a ribbon it had stolen from Ember earlier in the day.
The longer we walked, the more the sounds of life returned. Laughter echoed through the trees, boots crunched on gravel, and someone called out in the distance for a runaway food basket.
And then the towers of the Academy came into view.
Warm golden light spilled from every window, the courtyard full of students heading to and from afternoon classes, books in hand, familiars at their sides, their magic humming like a song just under the surface.
It stopped me in my tracks.
