Page 101 of Magical Mayhem


Font Size:

The sight steadied me.

Stonewick was still alive.

And as long as it breathed, Malore had not won.

I stepped from the trees, the path unfolding before me like an invitation. The day had begun, the fight waiting.

And I was ready.

Students filled the courtyard, their voices rising and falling in overlapping threads of chatter. Some balanced satchels stuffed with books, others clutched steaming mugs of tea or coffee, and more than a few carried enchanted quills already scribbling notes in the air around them.

The sheerenergyof it startled me.

I slowed my pace, drinking it in. Witches with streaks of silver hair streaked through their braids leaned together, gossiping about last night’s dreams as if they might predict the weather. A shifter stretched in the corner amid conversation with a fae student whose wings kept fluttering like nervous dragonflies. Two kitchen sprites darted between benches, distributing muffins the size of fists to anyone who looked remotely hungry.

Despite the shadows draping the sky, despite the unease twisting at the edges of Stonewick, the courtyard was alive.

Alive in a way I hadn’t felt since it opened.

This,I realized,is what Malore hates most. This is what he fears.

Not the Wards. Not the buildings. Not even the teachers.

It was the people. The midlife witches, the shifters, the fae, all of them refusing to fade into obscurity. Every line on their faces, every laugh, every stubborn flicker of curiosity was a rebellion.

One student waved to me as she passed, her cheeks flushed. “Morning, Headmistress.”

I blinked, startled at the way she said it, light and certain, and it made something warm stir in my chest.

Another student trailed behind, cradling a familiar brown cat in her arms. The cat blinked at me, golden eyes lazy, before letting out a loud, commanding meow.

I laughed. “He’s already learned the rules. Get carried everywhere, receive free muffins.”

The student grinned, her eyes crinkling. “He’s an overachiever.”

I continued forward, moving through the clusters of students. Their chatter pressed around me like a shield, their resilience seeping into my bones. For the first time in days, I felt a sense of relief.

Then the bell rang.

Its sound rolled across the courtyard, low and resonant, vibrating in my chest. Students immediately began shuffling toward their classrooms, finishing bites of muffins, capping ink pots, tucking away scrolls. The energy sharpened into focus, excitement and nerves braided together.

Classes would start in five minutes.

I paused at the center of the courtyard, tilting my head to listen as the echo faded.

This was it.

The moment.

If I wanted to start turning Stonewick’s greatest asset outward, if I wanted to show Malore his curse couldn’t break us, then I needed to do more than protect them. I needed tousethem. To let them stand, not behind me, but beside me.

The thought sent a shiver through me, half fear, half exhilaration.

I cleared my throat, raising my voice just enough to carry. “Excuse me, everyone. Before you head off.”

The chatter dimmed. Faces turned toward me, expectant, curious.

I swallowed hard, but the words came steady. “This afternoon, I’d like everyone gathered here in the courtyard again. We’ll be holding an assembly.”