Broom Attempt #1: flaming comet.
“You forgot the cinnamon roll avalanche,” Twobble added.
“I thought we agreed never to speak of that again,” I muttered.
“You were very brave,” Stella said.
The Silver Wolf’s mouth twitched. “In fairness,” she said, “you stayed up. And you landed where you intended, more or less. It was… impressive.”
“Chaotic,” Keegan amended. “Terrifying. And impressive.”
He extended a hand. I let him haul me up out of the pillow-shrub death nest. My legs wobbled as his arm steadied me. Smoke curled lazily from the broom’s singed end, but no new flames blossomed.
I realized I was grinning.
Keegan noticed. His own smile answered, warming the Ward light around us.
“You liked it,” he said.
“I did not,” I said automatically.
His eyebrow went up.
“…Okay,” I admitted. “I did. A little. Once the screaming turned into hysterical laughter.”
Twobble slapped my shoulder. “That’s the spirit! Terror, then giggles. Classic arc.”
Nova tapped her staff once, drawing the Ward’s attention.
“You did well,” she said. “You over-asked, the Ward over-delivered, fire got excited, and you still managed to negotiate your way back down without breaking anything important.”
“My dignity is questionable,” I said.
“Dignity is optional,” Stella said. “Landing is not.”
The broom gave a little rattling cough. The charred ends of the bristles crumbled to ash and then, under the Ward’s gentle hum, began to regrow with tiny green shoots, like grass, sprouting from the ruined straw.
“Oh,” I breathed. “Look at that.”
Nova’s eyes glinted. “See? Even the broom thinks it was worth the trouble.”
Skonk made a note. “Resilience factor: high.”
Twobble bounced on the balls of his feet. “So! Ready for round two?”
“Absolutely not,” I said. Every muscle in my body disagreed with the idea of more.
Keegan squeezed my hand. “You don’t have to,” he said quietly. “We can stop here. I’ll spend the rest of my life factoring in ‘in case Maeve cannot leave ground’ contingencies. It’s good practice.”
“That’s weirdly romantic,” I said.
“Thank you,” he murmured.
I looked back at the broom, at the little green shoots. At the safety net that had done its job. At the Ward, which felt less like it was judging me now and more like it was curious:Again?
