And one very smug toad who was about to learn that patience, like magic, came with consequences.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
I found Nova, as I always did, when life demanded that I question every choice that had led us to where we were in the moment.
She was seated near the tall windows of the eastern study. The light caught her raven-dark hair, and her green eyes were half-lidded, as if she were listening to something just beneath the room itself.
Ardetia stood nearby, fingertips grazing a floating diagram of sigils that rearranged themselves whenever she frowned. Bella leaned against a bookcase with her arms crossed, tail flicking lazily behind her in a way that suggested she was relaxed but absolutely not off duty and still debating whether she felt like being a full fox or a full human today.
They all looked up the moment I stepped inside.
“That look,” Bella said, pushing off the shelf. “I know that look.”
“I was hoping you wouldn’t,” I replied.
Nova smiled softly. “But we do.”
I exhaled and moved farther into the room, the door easing shut behind me with the Academy’s quiet approval.
“It’s about the spell,” I said. “The one Celeste cast.”
Ardetia’s expression shifted, sharpening with interest. “The transmutation hex.”
“Yes,” I said. “Though calling it that feels generous considering how… emotional it was.”
Bella snorted. “First spells usually are.”
I folded my hands together to keep them from fidgeting. “I’ve been reading, and as usual, the library was… very helpful.”
Nova inclined her head. “It always is when you ask the right question.”
“I’m not sure I did,” I admitted. “But one thing kept coming up over and over. The caster has the best chance of reversing a spell cleanly. With the least resistance.”
Silence settled briefly.
“And since that caster is my daughter,” I continued, “who is still learning what it means to hold magic at all, I need to know what the best option is, not the easiest, but the safest.”
Nova didn’t answer right away. She rose slowly from her chair, moving closer, her presence grounding in a way that made it easier to breathe.
“You’re correct,” she said finally. “Celeste undoing the hex herself would be the cleanest resolution. The magic recognizes its source. It yields more readily. If she’s unable to do so, you would be the most logical in line. There are risks with any option.”
My chest tightened. “But?”
“But,” Nova said gently, “she shouldn’t do it alone.”
Ardetia nodded. “The spell wasn’t just power. It was intent layered with emotion, and undoing it requires understanding both.”
Bella uncrossed her arms. “Which she can learn. Quickly, if she has the right support.”
I looked between them, hope and fear tangling together. “You’re saying it’s possible.”
“Yes,” Nova said. “With patience, guidance, and boundaries.”
“Boundaries,” I repeated.
Ardetia gestured to the sigils hovering near her hand. “She doesn’t need to feel everything she felt when she cast it. That would risk reinforcing the spell rather than releasing it. We’ll teach her how to approach it from a place of control instead of reaction.”
Bella grinned. “Think of it as unlearning a flinch.”
