Stella inhaled slowly. “Well. That answers that.”
Celeste’s eyes widened. “Answers what?”
My heart started to race again, but this time it wasn’t panic.
It was recognition mixed with a different kind of fear that comes when you see the shape of something new and realize you’re responsible for guiding it.
“Oh, heavens,” I whispered.
My gaze found Celeste again. She wasn’t my daughter who needed protecting from magic, but my daughter who was standing in it and even shaping it without knowing she’d done so.
“It was you,” I said softly.
Celeste stared at me. “No. I don’t do that sort of thing, or I wouldn’t be failing chemistry.”
“You didn’t mean to,” Nova said, kind but firm. “But intention isn’t required when magic recognizes itself.”
The toad hopped again, this time bumping Twobble’s foot.
Twobble yelped. “That’s it. I warned you.” He leaned over with fingers inches away from the toad.
“Twobble,” I said, though my voice lacked conviction.
He looked at me hopefully. “So… permission?”
I pressed my lips together. I couldn’t say no. Not when some quiet, traitorous part of me thought Alex deserved to be uncomfortable for once in his life.
Keegan snorted, unable to help himself. “You’re not allowed to eat the guests, no matter how insignificant or annoying they may be.”
Celeste let out a small, horrified laugh. “Wait. You’re saying I did that?”
“Yes,” Stella said. “And frankly, I’m impressed.”
Celeste recoiled. “You’re not supposed to say that.”
“But I absolutely am,” Stella replied. “You didn’t lash out wildly. You didn’t burn anything down. You corrected a problem.”
The toad croaked indignantly.
Stella eyed him. “And correction is rarely comfortable.”
Celeste backed up a step, shaking her head. “I didn’t say words. I didn’t think a spell. I just… wanted him to stop.”
“And he did,” Nova said.
“Indeed, he did.” Twobble grinned.
“Celeste, have you ever felt magic before? Or a sensation like this?”
She hesitated. “Sometimes. Little things. When I was younger. Stuff I thought was imagination.”
Of course, she had.
The toad hopped toward the center of the hall, croaking loudly as if announcing himself. The Academy’s sconces flickered but didn’t push him out, merely adjusted around his presence like a resigned sigh.
Twobble threw his hands up. “Unbelievable. He’s nesting.”
Keegan laughed outright now, unable to contain it. “I’ve never seen you this offended.”
