“Take that out,” I said.
“Never,” Skonk replied.
Despite everything, despite the knot in my stomach and the way my magic felt like it was pacing under my skin, I found myself smiling.
This was why we were doing it.
Not for grand prophecies, or the Hollow’s inscrutable design, or even to spite my power-hungry grandmother, though that was a nice bonus.
It was for this.
For goblins with crumb-strewn shirts and serious notebooks. For my curse-stricken wolf of a not-quite-husband, trying so hard to be steady. For my parents learning how to exist in the same magical building without flinching.
For Celeste, texting me about Kierkegaard and soup.
“Okay,” I said, squaring my shoulders. “Review the plan with me. One more time.”
Skonk brightened, flipping to a different page. “We meet Gideon in the Wilds in a little under six hours,” he recited. “Nova will anchor the grounds. You, Keegan, Frank, and Gideon step into the circle as primary anchors—north, south, east, west. Stella, Ardetia, Bella, and your mother will hold the secondary ring. Twobble and I will be positioned just outside for defensive support and snacks. The gargoyles will guard the perimeter; Elira will monitor the Stone and Academy Wards through the anchor.”
“The circle closes when we all commit,” I added. “Fully. No hedging, no ‘I’ll see how it goes.’ If one of us flinches—”
“The pattern fractures,” Keegan finished. “And we all have a very bad day.”
“Possibly permanently,” Skonk said helpfully.
“Not helping,” I said.
“Sorry,” he murmured. “Accuracy compulsion.”
Twobble bounced in place. “But if it works—”
“If it works,” I said, “we cut off the hunger path. Or at least make it a lot harder to use. We weaken the priestess’s favorite toy. We give Stonewick breathing room.”
“And then,” Twobble added, “we eat cake.”
I blinked. “We have cake?”
He looked offended. “Of course, we have cake. I’m not attending an ancient rite to restore balance to the world without baked goods.”
Keegan snorted. Some of the tightness had left his face.
“Thank you,” I said to both goblins, meaning more than the report. “Really.”
Twobble puffed up, ears flicking. Skonk ducked his head, pleased.
“We’ll meet you at the transit circle in an hour,” Skonk said. “Nova wants everyone there early to check resonance.” He hesitated. “Are you going to… tell Celeste anything before we go?”
The question landed like a stone dropped into a pond.
“She knows something big is happening,” I said slowly. “She doesn’t know the details. I don’t… want to send her a text that says ‘Hey, baby, might die at magic circle, love you.’”
Twobble winced. “No, don’t do that. Terrible tone.”
“I’ll message her afterwards,” I said, throat tight. “When it’s done. When I can say ‘We’re okay’ without lying.”
“If you need a distraction later,” Twobble said, “I can pretend to choke on cake.”
“Please don’t,” I said.
