“Dog-manners,” I clarified.
“That’s generous.”
Ahead, the carved yarn-ball sign of Luna’s shop creaked in the breeze as if the shop itself felt guilty.
Frank reached the door first, landing his rump like a sandbag. He was either guarding or refusing to budge… hard to tell with bulldogs.
“At least someone’s on duty,” Stella muttered, cloak crooked, hair only 80% tamed.
Frank barked once, decisive. Stella patted his head. “Yes, yes, you’re very intimidating.”
Behind us, Skonk and Twobble stumbled up, wheezing like they’d outrun destiny itself.
“No proper investigation starts before tea,” Skonk gasped.
“Or breakfast,” Twobble added. “Or comfort.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “You both have legs. Use them.”
“We prefer metaphysical legwork,” Skonk sniffed.
Before I could reply, my fingers brushed the doorknob and everyone froze as I flicked my fingers away.
Warm.
Too warm.
“Nova,” I whispered.
Nova stepped forward, eyes focused and alert. “The charms stirred here recently.”
“As in someone was inside?” I asked.
Stella groaned. “If Luna waltzed back in after all this—”
“It wasn’t Luna,” Ardetia murmured. She touched the doorframe delicately. “But her magic lingers. Purposefully. As if she wanted Maeve to find it.”
My chest tightened. Luna always did know when I’d be snooping.
I turned the knob.
Nothing.
Skonk perked up like a goblin bloodhound. “Ah! A lock challenge. Allow m—”
“No,” Keegan said.
“Yes,” Skonk insisted, already reaching.
“No.”
Bella sighed. “Let him try. Last time he only scorched half a palm.”
A spark.
A pop.
And a goblin missile detonated.
