Chapter Nine
Sunset had fallen like a velvet curtain over Stonewick. The evening sky was the kind of deep, inky night that clung to your skin and whispered in your ear if you stayed still long enough.
The air outside carried the spice of distant woodsmoke, pine, and a magic so thick it practically hummed beneath my boots as I walked the cobbled path layered with snow toward the center of town.
My fingers tingled.
Not from the cold, but from magic.
Pure, coiled anticipation.
It was less than an hour until Gideon’s arrival, and the spell I’d found in the book Bella had brought me burned in my memory and carved itself into my bones. I’d memorized every word, pause, and period.
I kept whispering parts of it under my breath, fingers twitching slightly, as though the magic was just waiting to be released.
Waiting for the right moment.
For him .
“Feeling twitchy?” Stella’s voice drifted from beside me.
She sipped something that smelled like elderberry and moonshine from a small silver flask and winked.
“Don’t worry, darling. He’ll be here, all dark and broody and reeking of shadow magic, and your lightness will make him cower.”
“I’m counting on it,” I muttered, tugging my coat tighter.
Stella had promised to keep a sharp eye out for any townsfolk—mels, mostly—who wandered too close.
She would know whose memories could be blurred gently and whose should be left alone. When it came to navigating the line between protection and chaos, Stella was better at mixing minds than anyone I’d ever seen. She just had a way about her that shifted memories. This town would look and feel normal by the end of it all, and no mel would be able to report that they saw magic going down in the center of town.
Nova had stationed herself in the alley behind Hallow & Hearth, a little place that had just opened, and I’d meant to visit.
It was tucked between two shuttered boutiques and was the closest space to the center of town without stepping directly into Gideon’s target zone, and Nova knew how to cloak herself from view, even from him.
And Keegan?
He’d claimed the second floor of the old boutique hotel, where he could see the full circle of the square and every point of entry without revealing himself. That knowledge helped ease the thrum in my chest, if only slightly.
Keegan would be watching.
He always was. Always had been. The thought warmed me in ways I hadn’t expected, but I shook it off.
Twobble, of course, refused to say where he’d be. “A goblin’s gotta keep some mystery,” he’d said with a sniff, vanishing with a puff of curling smoke. I suspected he was already lurking somewhere clever, probably rigging some obscure trap or setting up fanciful spells he’d never explain.
I didn’t have the energy to argue with him.
And the gargoyles, Karvey and his crew, had perched themselves across the hotel's rooftop, stone wings folded, eyes gleaming. They looked like part of the architecture. Waiting. Watching. Silent protectors.
The center of town itself looked deceptively peaceful, festive even.
The massive maple tree was still wrapped in twinkle lights from the Yule festival, casting a soft golden glow on the snow-covered square.
Wreaths hung from lamp posts. Shop windows flickered with the illusion of warmth and joy, but beneath it all pulsed something far more ancient.
T he circle .
It was hidden in plain sight. The old stonework embedded in the cobbles, runes etched so faintly that only those who knew what to look for could see them. And I had placed a charm right at its heart, tucked into the soil, bound with my magic.
All I had to do now was wait.
“Stop pacing,” Bella said softly, stepping beside me and bumping her shoulder into mine. “You’re going to wear a path into the snow.”
I froze mid-step. “Was I pacing?”
“Like a fox on its third espresso.” She chuckled. “And I would know.”
“I can’t help it. Every part of this has to go exactly right. If Gideon even senses that we’re not falling into his trap, the whole thing could unravel.”
Bella shrugged. “Then we don’t let him sense it. We play the part. You’re a scared daughter, desperate to save your father, ready to give up everything. That’s all he needs to see.”
“Great,” I said dryly. “So just pretend I’m terrified and broken. Easy peasy.” I laughed. “Well, maybe that’s not much of a stretch now.”
Bella’s lips curved up. “You’re forgetting that underneath your tea-drinking, fuzzy-sweater-wearing exterior, you’re terrifyingly powerful.”
I barked a laugh. “Terrifyingly awkward, maybe.”
Bella’s ears perked. She glanced toward the southern road.
“Same difference. Now, it’s my turn to find my place.” She bounded off as the wind shifted, sharp and sudden, and my entire body stilled.
She felt what I’d felt.
The fog rolled in fast, sweeping low across the cobbles like spilled milk, curling over boots and stones. It slithered past the lampposts and swallowed the edges of the square.
I paused by a small wrought-iron bench across from the now-deserted tea shop. A faint glow still emanated from its windows, the last ember of warmth in an otherwise silent street.
The tension in the air crackled like a live wire. It was precisely the kind of atmosphere that made one’s heart hammer with both dread and excitement.
Stella stepped forward from the shadows, took a sip from her flask, and then held it out to me.
“A little fortification, maybe?” she teased, though her eyes shone with earnest concern.
I shook my head and smiled. “I think I need a clear head for this.”
She nodded, and we stood in companionable silence for a moment, letting the hush of the night blanket us.
Fog continued rolling in, signaling Shadowick’s travels.
Stella touched my arm lightly. “You sure about this?”
“No,” I admitted, letting out a shaky laugh. “But I’ll do it anyway. Dad’s out there, and Gideon won’t let him go unless we force his hand.”
Her lips quirked. “Your father’s lucky to have a daughter as bullheaded as you.”
“He’s counting on me. On all of us.”
Stella nodded. Then, in that voice she used when she was half serious and half mothering, she said, “I’ll be on watch for any passersby. If we see mels or travelers who might… complicate things, I’ll handle it. Gently. A little memory tweak never hurt anyone.”
“Right, you handle the passersby. I’ll handle the spell.” My heart gave a nervous flutter at the word spell.
The wind whistled through the rooftops, and I caught a faint movement above. One of the gargoyles repositioned, scanning the roads that led into the square. It was nearly time.
My boots crunched on the thin crust of snow as we resumed walking. Every nerve in my body buzzed. The circle of runes felt alive under my feet, and I couldn’t shake the impression that the entire town waited with bated breath for Gideon to appear.
I glimpsed Luna peeking behind a curtain in her yarn shop, and my chest tightened. It looked like we might have more backup if needed.
The lamplights flickered, as though signaling what was up ahead.
“I’ll fade into the shadows now, darling. If he sees me, he might guess we’re up to something. But don’t worry. I’ll be close.”
I nodded, and Stella drifted away with that silent grace, tucking herself behind a row of old, half-broken crates.
Standing alone, I let the night air swirl around me, each breath sharper than the last.
My phone buzzed in my pocket with a message from Nova.
In position. Keegan says five minutes until showtime. Gideon is never late.
I wrote back.
I can already feel him.
I swallowed, shoving the phone back with a trembling hand.
Five minutes.
Time for me to recall every line of the spell I intended to weave, every step of the plan. My father’s face glimmered behind my eyes, giving me the courage to stand tall…
So he would stand taller.
As though the world obeyed some unseen cue, the edges of the square filled with a slow-rolling fog. The darkness slithered across the cobblestones, coiling around lampposts, devouring the faint glow of holiday lights.
My pulse spiked, and a chill that had nothing to do with the cold crept through me.
He was here.
Gideon stepped from the mist like a dark star descending—tall, robed in black, eyes gleaming maliciously.
Gideon.
Even from a distance, I felt the press of his magic, a claustrophobic weight in the air.
My heart pounded as he advanced, each footfall echoing unnaturally loud in the stillness of the snow.
The thick fog around him parted in a show of reverence, as though it recognized its master.
My breath caught.
Despite my readiness, despite the Wards and magic at my fingertips, a tremor of fear rippled through me.
Gideon’s presence was as potent as ever, a living embodiment of shadow and cunning.
He paused at the perimeter of the ancient runes, head tilting slightly, and a cold, triumphant smile curved across his lips. His features were even more striking in person. The blue in his eyes looked like a cavernous underwater tunnel, beckoning me in.
I steeled myself, lifting my chin.
My dad’s image flared in my mind and fueled the wave of defiance rising in my chest.
If Gideon thought he could intimidate me into handing over Stonewick, letting him keep my dad hostage, and getting his hands on me… well, he was in for a surprise.
Yes, I had invited him. But only so I could flip his plans on himself.
Gideon took one more step forward, the lamplight catching the silver gleam in his eyes. My spine prickled with the sense that every second now counted. The runes under my feet thrummed, responding to the magic I’d seeded there earlier.
Gideon was in place, but the night embraced him with an almost eerie hush.
The moment of truth had arrived, and I stood ready to spring the trap that no one knew about but me.
The magic buzzed beneath my ribs.
“Maeve,” he said, his voice slicing through the air like a fine blade. “You’re even more radiant than I remembered.”
“I’m not flattered.”
“Oh, but you should be.” Gideon’s smile was infuriating. He walked closer to me, and his boots crunched crisply over the snow. “You came alone. That’s brave.”
“I came because I want my dad back where he belongs.”
He tilted his head. “And you’re willing to trade… yourself?”
I didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
A lie wrapped in truth.
He looked amused. “I thought it would take longer to win you over. But here you are. Offering yourself to me like a gift. Our discussion must have hit a nerve.”
My throat tightened, but I held his gaze.
“I’ve seen what you can do. What you’re willing to do. And I know how important I am to you.” I let my voice tremble just enough. “You said you wanted me. That I was yours .”
His eyes sparked with silver fire. “You remember.”
“Hard to forget a promise like that.”
I felt Keegan’s energy shift from the hotel. He didn’t know what Gideon had said to me in our meeting, and I could sense he wasn’t pleased now that he did.
Gideon stepped into the center of the circle. Right where I needed him.
The runes beneath the snow began to warm beneath his boots, ancient symbols hungry for magic, for purpose .
“You were always meant for more, Maeve,” he said. “More than this town. More than the Academy. Your mother knew it. That’s why she left.”
I flinched. He knew exactly where to press. But I didn’t let it show for long.
“I’m not her,” I said quietly.
“No,” he agreed. “You’re not. You’re smarter, more cunning.”
From the rooftop, I heard the faint creak of stone wings stretching. The gargoyles were ready. They weren’t used to this kind of back and forth.
Nova’s presence pulsed from the alley like a heartbeat I could feel in the soles of my boots.
Keegan was above me. I knew it. And I hoped he could feel the words I wasn’t saying.
Hold. Just a little longer.
Gideon reached out his hand. “Come, Maeve. Take your place as my apprentice.”
I smiled.
Took a step forward.
And let the magic start to rise.
The air shimmered as I whispered the first part of the spell under my breath, a hum so light even a skilled illusionist couldn’t have heard it. The runes under the snow glowed faintly gold.
His eyes flicked to the ground.
“You’re not scared,” he said softly.
“No,” I replied. “I’m not.”
His eyes narrowed.
“But where is my dad?”
I had to see him before I could begin.
A thick fog swirled next to Gideon, the air suffocating, as I attempted to breathe in.
And then…
A shadow
I flicked my gaze back to Gideon’s. “How do I know that’s really him?”
“Haven’t you heard of trust?” His brows lifted.
“Not when dealing with you.”
An evil laugh echoed into the air, and I shook my head in disgust.
I knew what I had to do.