Page 104 of Magical Mayhem


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when the pack is scattered wide,

gather not in fang or fury,

but in heart where kin abide.

Break the Path that starves the spirit,

fight the shadow, feed the flame,

call the ones who walked before you,

speak the lost ones back by name.

Every weakness turns to blessing,

every exile finds the way,

when the circle holds together,

dawn will meet the hungering day

Heads lifted. Shoulders squared.

I felt it. The energy began to spark, stitching together like threads.

“We are stronger together,” I said firmly, glancing between my dad and Keegan. “And it’s time Malore learned that his curse will not silence us.”

I spotted my mom in the crowd with a look on her face I had rarely ever seen.

Pride, but that wasn’t what I focused on.

The courtyard rang with applause, hands clapping, voices rising. My chest swelled with something fierce and fragile. For the first time, I believed we might actually stand a chance as the midlife witches repeated the chant.

But the sky above darkened unnaturally fast. The lanterns flickered wildly, shadows curling down like grasping fingers. A cold wind cut through the courtyard, stealing the warmth from my lungs, and the applause faltered, replaced by uneasy whispers. Students craned their necks skyward.

And then I saw it.

The clouds swirled, coalescing into a shape. Formed from fog and shadow, first the eyes, followed by a jagged mouth.

Malore’s face.

My pulse thundered in my ears.

His gaze swept the courtyard, hollow and merciless, his grin stretching wide enough to split the sky.

The students gasped, some stumbling back, others clutching at one another. Even the kitchen sprites froze, their trays trembling in midair.

Keegan tensed beside me, his hand brushing the hilt of the dagger at his belt. My dad growled low in his throat, a sound that carried the bulldog’s rumble even in his human form.

I forced myself to stand tall, to keep my voice steady though my heart hammered against my ribs.

This was the moment Malore had been waiting for.

He had heard me.

And he had come to answer.

The face made of shadows above us leered, its mouth stretched too wide, eyes like hollow pits peering down on the courtyard. Students clutched one another, their whispers a tide of fear rising too quickly for comfort.