Magical Musing (Stonewick Magical Midlife Witch Academy #2)

Chapter Three

Grandma Elira stood in front of a grand entrance, holding my hand and smiling. “This is the library’s fourth floor. Few have access to its history.”

“Why do I?” I asked, shaking my head.

“You pledged yourself to the Academy.” She looked at me as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.

“Don’t all students?”

She chuckled, which made me nervous. “Oh, heavens no.”

“What?” I shook my head in confusion. “Then why did I?”

My grandma didn’t answer.

Instead, she pushed open the doors to reveal an indescribable beauty.

Every inch of the space hummed with magic. Little orbs of light I recognized from the other parts of the Academy hopped and danced around the room, bouncing from shelf to ceiling.

“What are these exactly?” I asked, glancing back at my grandma, who watched me with a calm, knowing expression.

“Book sprites,” she said simply, stepping forward to join me. “They’re drawn to moments of indecision, difficult choices, or uncertainty. They guide you to what you need, even if you don’t know it yet. They record all actions and inactions for historical purposes. They were with you last night.”

I tilted my head, intrigued. “They’re like magical librarians?”

“In a way. But unlike librarians, they don’t just find what you’re looking for. They find what’s looking for you.”

I blinked at my grandma, seeing my dad in her. The twinkle in his eyes reflected in hers. But the weight of her words settled over me. The idea that a book—or the knowledge within it—could seek me out was as thrilling as it was unsettling.

One of the sprites darted closer, its light growing brighter as it circled my hand. I held still, watching as it bobbed up and down, then drifted toward a shelf on my left. The other sprites seemed to follow its lead, clustering together, conferring with one another.

“I think they want me to go that way,” I said, glancing at her.

She nodded. “Then follow them. They’re rarely wrong.”

The sprites flitted ahead, their glow lighting the path as I moved deeper into the library. The shelves seemed to grow taller, and the air thickened with the scent of ink and leather. A sense of anticipation filled me, like before a storm, when I held my breath and watched the lightning dance.

I stopped when the sprites hovered in front of a particular shelf. The books here were different. They looked similar, with their spines covered in ornate patterns of gold and silver. The titles shimmered faintly, written in a script that seemed to shift and change as I looked at them, similar to other sections in the library…But the feel was magnetic.

One book in particular caught my eye.

The deep blue, almost black, cover had a delicate silver tree etched into the center. The tree’s branches extended outward, intertwining with the vines that framed the cover. It reminded me of the vines that had taken hold of this Academy.

The sprites circled it excitedly, their light casting the tree in a silvery glow.

I reached out hesitantly, and my fingers brushed the spine. When I touched it, heat spread through my hand, traveling up my arm and chest.

“That one has chosen you,” she said softly, her voice filled with quiet pride.

“Chosen me?” I asked, pulling the heavy book from the shelf.

She stepped closer.

“The books here aren’t ordinary, my sweet granddaughter. They hold more than words and knowledge. They hold connections—stories, memories, spells.”

My pulse quickened as I watched my grandma’s reaction.

She smiled and nodded. “When a book chooses you, it means its contents are tied to your path somehow.”

I opened the book carefully, the pages thick and slightly rough under my fingertips. The script inside was fluid and elegant, written in shimmering ink that seemed to dance on the page. As I flipped through, images began to appear with illustrations of places, people, and moments frozen in time.

One image stopped me cold.

It was of a man standing in a garden, his features handsome and familiar.

My heart clenched as I realized who it was.

“Is that… my father?” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

“As a young man.” My grandma’s expression softened, and she nodded. “The book has much to show you, Maeve. But it will reveal its secrets in its own time.”

I stared at the image as my mind raced. My father had always been a mystery to me. His death was shrouded in unanswered questions. The idea that this book might hold some of those answers excited and terrified me.

“What do I do with it?” I asked, closing the book carefully.

“Take it with you. Study it. Let it guide you. The sprites wouldn’t have brought you to it if it weren’t important. If it weren’t the right time.”

I glanced at the sprites hovering nearby. Their light dimmed slightly but was steady.

“Do they ever lead people astray?”

“Not intentionally. But sometimes, their guidance takes you to places you don’t expect or don’t want to go. That’s part of the journey.”

I nodded, tucking the book under my arm. The sprites began to scatter, and their lights faded as they returned to the shelves. The aisle grew darker, but the sense of connection remained as the library watched over me.

“Thank you.” I looked at the glowing orbs and swore I saw them bounce quicker.

She placed a hand on my shoulder, her touch calming.

“You’ve taken your first step, Maeve. The path ahead won’t be easy, but you don’t have to walk it alone.”

I studied my grandmother’s face, her expression distant and shadowed with memories. I imagined seeing the illustration of my dad brought a crippling wave of grief.

The question had been swirling in my mind since she mentioned the Academy closing its doors around her, and I finally blurted it out.

“How did you wind up behind the Academy doors? Why didn’t you leave with Dad?”

My grandma hesitated, and her gaze flickered to the glowing pillars around us as though drawing strength from them. “It wasn’t supposed to happen,” she said quietly. “Your grandfather and I had planned to return home together that day. Alaric—your father—was so young, barely out of toddlerhood. But there was unrest. The Academy had been attacked before, and the Wards were weakened. The shadows were closing in.”

Her voice caught, and I felt the weight of her sorrow. “The doors closed before I could leave that day. It was sudden and unexpected. I was in the library, researching ways to fortify the Wards, when the Academy made its decision. It sealed itself to protect the magic within. No one outside, no one inside, could change that.”

Tears shimmered in her eyes as she continued, “I never got to say goodbye. I only saw your father grow up through visions, glimpses in the pedestals. When I learned of his fate…” Her voice broke, and I couldn’t bring myself to speak.

The library’s comfort faded as my grandma’s words hung in the air.

“You didn’t have a choice?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. “The doors just… closed?”

Her expression softened, a mixture of sadness and resolve etched into her sharp features.

“It was a different time, Maeve. The Academy was under siege. Its Wards were strained beyond their limits. The shadows were already gathering. The Academy decided that protecting itself and its inhabitants was paramount, and I… I was here when the doors sealed.”

I could see the weight of those words pressing down on her decades later. “And Dad?” I asked hesitantly. “He was—”

“Just a boy,” my grandma interrupted, her voice faltering. “He was outside with my husband, your grandfather. I didn’t get to say goodbye. One moment, I was here, thinking it was another day of magical lessons and guardianship duties, and the next… the gates were shut, and I was trapped inside.”

I felt my throat tighten, a cold wave washing over me.

“But you saw him, right? Through visions, you said?”

She nodded, her silver hair catching the light as she lowered her gaze. “The Academy has ways of showing us the outside world. The pedestals and mirrors in the Hall of Promises and the reflective mirrors in the library allowed me glimpses of his life. I watched him grow, stumble, and rise again. But it wasn’t the same as holding him, as being there for him. I ached to pick him up every time he fell but couldn’t reach him. When I learned of his demise…” She trailed off, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “My heart shattered.”

The room seemed to hold its breath. My chest tightened at the thought of her heartbreak, her helplessness. I couldn’t imagine being locked away from Celeste, knowing I’d missed her milestones, joys, and struggles.

“Grandma,” I said, my voice trembling, “if the Academy decides to close its doors again… could the same thing happen to me? Could I… could I lose Celeste?”

She hesitated for a moment, her lips pressing into a thin line.

“It’s possible,” she admitted quietly. “The Academy acts to preserve its magic and purpose, sometimes at great cost. But I don’t believe it would make such a decision lightly. Not anymore. I think, in part, that is why it has remained closed. And once the curse had been cast, things shifted…”

Her words offered little comfort. The thought of being separated from Celeste, of not seeing her grow into the incredible young woman she was becoming, made my stomach churn.

I took a deep, shaky breath. “How did you survive that? Being locked away, knowing they were out there without you?”

Her gaze softened as she placed a reassuring hand on my arm.

“It wasn’t easy. But the Academy isn’t just a school, Maeve. It’s a sanctuary, a home to magical beings who need its protection as much as we do. There are entire wings devoted to the creatures who live here. It’s a reminder that my sacrifice is small in the scheme of things.”

I blinked, momentarily distracted, as I let her words sink in. Her selflessness was inspiring but also unnerving. I wasn’t certain I could do it.

And then it hit me.

“Creatures?”

She nodded. “The Academy is alive, Maeve. It doesn’t just house knowledge and magic—it nurtures the beings tied to its existence. Some have lived here for centuries, even longer. They are as much a part of the Academy as its walls and Wards.”

Curiosity began to nudge aside my anxiety. “What kinds of creatures?”

My grandma’s lips curved into a faint smile. “Come with me.”

We left the library and descended a different set of stairs. These steps were narrower and adorned with carvings of intricate flora and fauna.

The air grew warmer, tinged with earthy scents and the faint sound of rustling leaves. When we reached the bottom, I stepped into a vast, open space that took my breath away.

It was a garden, but not like any I’d ever seen. Towering trees with luminous leaves stretched toward the high glass ceilings. Their branches swayed gently as if moved by an unseen breeze. Vibrant flowers bloomed in impossible colors. Their petals shimmered faintly. Streams of crystal-clear water wound through the space, their surfaces reflecting the soft glow of bioluminescent moss.

Goblin gold?

And then I saw something I never thought possible.

My heart hammered in my chest as blood rushed through my body from adrenaline. I had to imagine what I saw before me.

This couldn’t be real.

None of it could be possible.

But then I thought of my own little goblin, and for the first time in a long time, I just let myself…

Believe.