Magical Musing (Stonewick Magical Midlife Witch Academy #2)

Chapter Twenty-Six

The night air had that sharp winter chill that verged on pain and made you question your life choices.

For example, like walking into a semi-sentient magical Academy that had been asleep for decades and committing yourself to it.

Choices.

But at least I wasn’t alone.

“This is a terrible idea,” Karvey grumbled for the fourth time, his stone feet clunking against the snow beside me.

Trinity, the smaller but no-less-grumpy gargoyle at his side, sniffed. “Oh, we know it’s a terrible idea, Karvey. But here we are. Waddling along like a pair of enchanted watchdogs. And you see why I’m not fond of humans?”

“You don’t waddle, ” I said, smirking. “You stomp with purpose.”

Karvey let out a low, gravelly snort. “Hmph. Purpose. Right.”

The two gargoyles flanked me, their stone wings grinding now and then as we walked up the winding path to the Academy. It wasn’t lost on me how much had changed—how much I had changed—since the first time I stood before these doors.

Now, I was expected.

The shimmering outline of the entrance flickered as we approached that golden glow humming in recognition. The Academy knew I was here. Knew I had come back.

But as soon as we reached the Butterfly Ward—the invisible threshold that marked the inner sanctum of the Academy—Karvey and Trinity stopped dead in their tracks.

“This is as far as we go,” Karvey announced, crossing his arms like a bouncer outside a very exclusive club.

Trinity nodded solemnly. “We have not been granted full access yet. And if we try, the Academy will either expel us violently or do something worse.”

I frowned. “Worse than violent expulsion?”

Trinity leaned in and whispered, “It could reassign us.”

Karvey shuddered. “Imagine spending eternity as a decorative fountain.”

“Or worse,” Trinity whispered back, horrified. “A birdbath. ”

A snort of laughter escaped before I could stop it. “I’m pretty sure that’s not how it works.”

Karvey narrowed his glowing stone eyes at me. “Oh, isn’t it?”

Trinity tapped the ground with a clawed foot.

“Magic is unpredictable. And humiliating.” She turned to Karvey. “Remember Telkin? Refused to follow the rules and got turned into a garden gnome?”

“ Still a garden gnome,” Karvey muttered, shaking his head. “Sad fate.”

I held up my hands. “Okay, okay. No unauthorized gargoyle entries. Got it.”

Karvey grumbled but seemed appeased. “Just don’t do anything reckless in there.”

I gave him a flat look. “Have you met me?”

Trinity smirked. “She has a point.”

Karvey sighed deeply, clearly regretting all the life choices that led him to this moment. “Just… try not to get eaten by any cursed books or haunted staircases. We’ll be here. Waiting.”

“Is that a thing?”

They didn’t answer.

I reached out and patted her rough, stone arm. “I appreciate you both.”

Not to mention, I was stunned that Trinity was finally speaking around me.

Karvey just huffed, waving me off. “Go on, then. Before I start getting attached.”

I grinned, stepping past the Butterfly Ward and into the glowing threshold of the Academy.

And for the first time in a long time, I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

The moment I stepped through the doors, the comfort of the Academy’s magic latched onto me, thick and familiar.

The air smelled faintly of old parchment and something floral—jasmine, maybe. I barely had a second to process it before the heavy wooden doors swung open, revealing a figure standing just inside, waiting.

“Ah, Maeve,” Grandma Elira said, her silver-streaked hair pinned neatly.

Her emerald green robes flowed like they belonged to some ancient and powerful headmistress.

“About time, dear.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “You were… waiting for me?”

“I try to keep tabs on things outside the Academy when I can,” she said smoothly, stepping aside to let me in.

I took a few steps forward, the doors creaking as they swung shut behind me. The Academy’s entrance hall was just as I remembered it—vaulted ceilings, flickering sconces, and the faint glow of magic humming in the walls. But something about it felt more alive than before. My presence had stirred something awake.

My grandma watched me closely, her skilled eyes taking in every inch of my expression. “How is Keegan?”

That stopped me cold.

I stared at her. “Wait— how do you know about what happened to Keegan?”

Her lips curled slightly. “Like I said, I try to keep tabs on things.” She motioned toward the long hallway leading deeper into the Academy. “Come, let’s walk. You can tell me everything.”

Still reeling, I followed her. “Okay, but… how are you keeping tabs? I thought the Academy was cut off from the outside world.”

She clasped her hands behind her back, her pace unhurried. “Mostly, yes. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have ways to listen. There are connections that exist beyond the physical—threads of magic. Whispers carried through the bond between this place and the people tied to it.” She glanced at me. “And Keegan is still tied to this place, whether he admits it or not. And let’s not forget about the pedestals and mirrors. I have ways.”

That made sense in a way that also made no sense. But then again, nothing in Stonewick had ever been straightforward.

I exhaled, shaking my head. “Well, he’s alive, so that’s a win.”

Grandma Elira’s expression softened slightly. “Good. And you?”

I let out a breathy laugh. “Oh, you know. Just unraveling one magical mystery at a time.”

Her gaze flicked toward me, amused. “Of course.”

That’s when it hit me.

If she was keeping tabs on everything outside the Academy, then maybe she already had the answer to the question clawing at my mind since Stella’s warning.

I stopped walking.

“Grandma,” I said, my voice quieter now.

She turned to face me, a slight tilt of her head.

I swallowed, my fingers curling around the edges of my coat. “Do you know who tried to breach the Academy’s Wards tonight?”

The air shifted.

Elira didn’t answer right away. Instead, she turned toward towering double doors and lifted a hand, her fingers moving with precise, practiced motions. The heavy doors creaked in response, the golden shimmer along their edges pulsing once before fading.

With a final, quiet swish , the doors opened.

She turned back to me, nodding.

A chill crawled down my spine.

“Wait, so you do know?” I asked, my heart picking up speed.

My grandma sighed, folding her hands in front of her. “I have my suspicions.”

That wasn’t exactly comforting.

I took a breath, steadying myself. “And those suspicions are…?”

Her gaze darkened, and I saw something other than calm calculation in her eyes for the first time since I'd met her. Something darker.

“Someone who is no stranger to this town or its history,” she said simply.

The vagueness hit like a stone dropping into the pit of my stomach.

Of course, it wouldn’t be straightforward.

My pulse thudded. “Gideon?”

“I am rarely sure of anything when it comes to him,” she admitted. “But I believe it was one of Gideon’s underlings.”

Someone working under him.

I took a shaky breath, trying to piece this all together.

“Is there a way I could use the pedestals to look into the past? To see who it might have been?”

Elira’s expression was unchanged.

“That depends.”

“On what?”

She arched a brow. “On whether you’re ready to stop reacting to things as they happen… and start taking control.”

I swallowed. “I—”

The words caught in my throat because the truth was, I wasn’t sure.

But I also wasn’t sure I had the luxury of waiting until I was ready.

Elira studied me, then gripped my shoulder, her grip steady. “The Academy chose you, Maeve. Not me. Not Keegan. You. ”

The weight of her words settled deep.

I squared my shoulders, forcing myself to take a breath. “Then I guess it’s time I start acting like it.”

A small, proud smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Good.”

I let out a slow breath, pushing past the nervous energy. “Okay. What’s our first step?”

“Come. The Academy will decide if it’s willing to show you.”

That wasn’t exactly comforting. The Academy had chosen me, but that didn’t mean it always cooperated.

Still, I followed her down the long hallway. The sconces lining the walls flickered brighter as we passed, little wisps of light stretching toward us, responding to the living magic in our steps.

Elira led me deeper into the Academy, toward a chamber I’d not been in.

Elira placed a hand against the heavy wooden doors as we reached them. The wood groaned softly before easing open, revealing the dimly lit chamber beyond.

The mirrors inside weren’t just ordinary reflective glass. They held memories, fragments of time captured and stored like ink pressed onto parchment.

The mirrors waited.

They stretched from floor to ceiling, arched and gleaming, reflecting the flickering sconces and the soft swirl of magic in the air. But they weren’t still. Their surfaces rippled slightly, as if they were alive, waiting to reveal something.

“This is the Hall of Echoes.”

“Different than the Hall of Promises,” I said flatly.

“Very.”

I swallowed hard.

Last time, the Academy showed me something: pieces of myself—my childhood, my happiest moments with Celeste, and beyond.

But I wasn’t looking for nostalgia this time.

I stepped forward, my breath steadying as I focused.

“I want to see the Wards,” I murmured. “I want to see what happened tonight.”

The mirrors flickered to life.

Elira said nothing, standing quietly beside me, letting the Academy decide.

A pulse of electricity jolted through the air, considering my request.

And then, all at once, they answered .

The glass shimmered, and suddenly, I wasn’t looking at my reflection anymore.

The Academy exterior appeared, the misty edge of the grounds illuminated by moonlight. The air was still, the Wards humming with force like they had earlier. The beauty of the Butterfly Ward shimmered against the snowy backdrop.

Then—movement.

A figure stepped into view.

My breath caught.

The hooded silhouette approached the Ward cautiously, their form slightly obscured by the swirling mist. They weren’t attacking the barrier, nor did they seem to be trying to break through.

They were… studying it.

But that fog…that thick fog… I recognized it from my dream in Shadowick.

I watched carefully.

Slow, deliberate movements.

A hand lifted, not touching the magic but hovering close, feeling its force. Their movement was careful and precise—almost… reverent.

And then, just as quickly as they had appeared, the figure stepped back, disappearing into the night.

The mirrors rippled again, the image fading.

I stared at the glass, my pulse thrumming in my ears.

No destruction.

No aggression.

No true identity

Someone had come to the Academy’s Wards not to breach them—but to observe .

But why ?

And more importantly… who ?

Elira’s voice was quiet but steady. “Did you recognize them?”

I shook my head, frustration curling in my chest. “No. But I recognized the fog. They weren’t trying to get in. They were… watching.”

Elira’s gaze was thoughtful, her fingers tapping lightly against her sleeve. “That changes things.”

I tore my eyes away from the mirror, turning to face her fully. “Who watches a Ward? What were they looking for?”

Elira studied me, her expression cautious.

“Perhaps,” she said slowly, “the better question is… what did they expect to find? ”

A shiver danced down my spine.

I turned back to the mirror, willing it to show me more.

Because whoever had been there tonight—they hadn’t just stumbled upon the Academy.

They had come on purpose .

And if they had come successfully once…

They might come again.

My grandma looked over my shoulder, and she gasped in horror. I spun around to see a man I’d never met staring back at me.