Page 74 of Magical Moonbeam
Maybe Gideon would sense that strength and hesitate, just long enough for us to meet him on our terms.
I stood in my office with a barely eaten piece of toast in one hand and a list of new faculty in the other.
The fire crackled gently in the hearth behind me, and my dad let out a sleepy grumble from his spot by the warm stone, his little paws twitching like he was dreaming of chasing butterflies or, more likely, knocking over Twobble’s tower of tea tins again.
Twobble was perched on the windowsill like a smug little goblin gargoyle, swinging his legs and scribbling something onto his own version of a placement chart, which from the looks of it included smiley faces, frowny faces, and one column simply labeled Suspicious.
“They’re piling up,” he said without looking at me.
“Hmm?”
“The new teachers.” He turned his chart so I could see it. “And frankly, I’m running out of room in the not alarming column.”
I blew out a breath and walked over to my desk
“You know what? They’re already inside. The Academy let them in.”
Twobble blinked. “Yes… and?”
“That’s it.” I sank into my chair. “It means they belong here. The Academy chose them. So maybe it’s not about interviewing them anymore. Maybe it’s about trusting that magic already brought them to where they’re supposed to be.”
He stared at me, then slowly leaned forward, lowering his voice like we were discussing secret state matters. “You want me to… what, assign classrooms?”
I sipped my tea. “I want you to place them wherever you think they’ll fit best. Based on your weird intuition and your frankly terrifying knowledge of where every supply closet is hidden.”
Twobble beamed, nearly toppling off the sill. “This is the greatest honor I’ve ever received.”
“It’s also incredibly risky.”
“Oh, don’t worry.” He stood and brushed biscuit crumbs off his vest. “I already have a system.”
“Does it involve alphabetical order?”
“Worse,” he said brightly. “Vibes.”
I opened my mouth, paused, then nodded. “Vibes it is.”
And with that, I left Twobble humming to himself, already muttering about fire hazard zones and compatible cauldron energies.
I trusted him, mostly. He loved the Academy as fiercely as anyone could, and if anyone could sense which rooms hummed for which witches, it would be Twobble.
As for me, I needed to burn something.
When dusk deepened, I donned my cloak and crossed the shadowed alley toward Stonewick and followed the sidewalk leading to the Flame Ward.
Two nights. Dragons silent. Students safe. Teachers ready. Moonbeam approaches like a tide.
I tightened my cloak, squared my shoulders, and stepped forward, determined to keep every secret sealed until I chose to wield it.
The walk to the Flame Ward didn’t take long, but it still gave me time to consider every way this could go wrong. I was going to face Gideon in two days. My mind needed to be a fortress, not a garden gate. And that meant no more dancing around the parts of my magic that scared me.
I let myself into the Ward and scurried through the first floor, quickly reaching the stairs.
Nova and Ardetia were waiting at the top of the forge stairs.
The air was already thick with heat and something that tasted faintly like burnt cinnamon and ash. The moment I stepped into the chamber, I felt the forge pulse beneath my boots.
I wasn’t here to learn about fire.
