“And he’ll have it,” Ember added gently. “We can hold things together.”
Ardetia set her cup down with a quiet clink. “But only for so long. The students return tomorrow for the summer session. They will notice the strain if we do not do a good job of hiding things as best we can.”
Silence settled over the table for a moment, heavy as soaked wool.
The students.
I had nearly forgotten. Though, how could I? Dozens of midlife witches, shifters, and fae, bright-eyed, eager, some barely into perimenopause and others far exceeding it, were due back through the Academy’s gates. They would expect lessons, protection, and a sanctuary that felt whole and complete. Not an Academy with shadows pressing at its Wards and one of its strongest guardians lying pale and exhausted.
“Let’s get some privacy in here,” Stella said, eyeing Ember.
Our friendly haunt grinned and nodded as she moved from our table and over to the last remaining table with customers. She picked up their empty tea cups and moved them to the counter. It was hard to keep a straight face as the two people jumped up so fast that they nearly knocked over the table, grabbed their bags, and jetted out of the tea shop quicker than a vampire hunting its prey.
“That ought to get me a five-star for authenticity,” Stella said with a giggle.
Ember sat down and nodded, chuckling. “Glad I could be of service.”
Her ghostly maneuvers were always impressive and often quite funny.
Nova snapped her fingers at the door, which locked itself as theOpensign turned toClosed.
I wrapped my hands tighter around my cup. “We’ll have to keep it together for the students. They can’t see how frayed the threads are.”
Stella gave me a pointed look. “That’s always the way, isn’t it? We paste on a smile, pour another pot, and make sure the students feel safe. Meanwhile, the rest of us bleed into our shawls.”
“That’s a little dramatic,” I said, grinning as Bella transformed into her human form.
Stella’s dramatic sigh almost earned a smile from me.
Almost.
Bella nudged my arm with hers. “She’s right, though. We can’t let the students feel the fear. They’ll be looking to you, Maeve. To all of us.”
“To Keegan, too,” I whispered before I could stop myself.
The words cracked something in me. They all heard it. Stella set her hand over mine, firm and cool. “Then we hold the line until he can stand again.”
Her certainty steadied me. Around us, the tea shop hummed with its usual quiet magic, the faint rattle of a summer breezeat the windows, and the clink of spoons in porcelain. It was so cozy, so ordinary, that it almost made me forget what loomed overhead.
I glanced toward the window. Outside, the lanterns swung gently, their light golden on the stone sidewalks.
Tourists ambled with baskets of pastries, couples clasped hands, and children darted with ribbons of laughter. From here, you’d never know the sky’s gray weight wasn’t just weather.
My chest ached with nostalgia. When I’d first arrived here, all I’d wanted was this. A little magic, a little tea, and something simple was all I needed.
Now everything felt like a prelude to war.
I didn’t realize I’d sighed aloud until Stella stood behind me and rested her hand lightly on my shoulder.
Her voice was low, softer than I’d ever heard it. “It will come back someday, Maeve. The tea, the laughter, the simpler days. This isn’t forever.”
I looked back at her, my throat tight. “Do you believe that?”
Her eyes, old and wise and fiercely alive, held mine. “I’ve lived through worse storms. Shadows stretch, but the light always outshines them. And once they do, life returns. Sweet, ordinary, stubborn life.”
The words sank into me like honey poured into hot tea. I breathed in slowly and steadily, letting them fill the cracks inside me.
Maybe she was right. Someday, Stonewick would be only tea and gossip again. But until then, we’d have to hold the line together.
