Chapter Forty
Luna was out on the sidewalk, arranging a display of hand-dyed yarn in a basket shaped like a giant teacup. Her breath misted in the cold air as she fussed with the arrangement with warm earth tones near the front, blues and silvers tucked farther back like a secret waiting to be found.
I smiled and raised a hand as I passed. “Looking good, Luna.”
She glanced up from a grumpy skein that wouldn’t stay in place and beamed. “They’re fighting me this morning. The wool wants to be rebellious today.”
I laughed. “Don’t we all.”
She waved me off with a wink and went back to coaxing her display into submission.
I kept walking down the cobblestone path that wound through the center of the village, my boots making soft thuds on the piles of snow.
My breath puffed out in little clouds, and the air held that familiar scent of wood smoke and steeped herbs that always seemed to cling to the heart of Stonewick.
It was good to be back in the village.
Just ahead, the windows of Stella’s tea shop glowed with warmth. Stella had twisted garlands of dried orange slices and cinnamon sticks along the door trim, and they rattled softly as I reached for the door.
The bell overhead gave its usual cheerful jingle as I stepped inside.
And there she was.
In all her glory, Stella wrapped in one of her infamous velvet shawls, this one a deep eggplant color with tassels with tiny silver charms sewn into them. She was behind the counter, handing a steaming cup of something fragrant to a woman wearing fingerless gloves and a slightly confused expression. Her bright scarlet lipstick was impeccable.
“I’m telling you,” Stella said, “if you steep it longer than seven minutes, it turns into a love potion. And not the kind you want.”
The customer blinked. “Oh?”
“Last one who let it steep too long fell in love with his neighbor’s cat. Ruined the poor woman’s birthday party.”
I snorted as she ate it up.
Stella looked up, saw me, and her whole face lit.
“Maeve Bellemore. If you’re here for a truth serum, you’re too late. I sold the last one to a yoga instructor from Portland who swore she needed to ‘align her psychic branding.’ Whatever that means.”
I scowled. “Did Keegan tell you something?”
“No. Why?” She cocked her head in confusion, and I realized my secret was still safe with him.
I grinned as I walked up to the counter. “You’re in fine form today.”
“Oh, honey. It’s winter tourist season.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “You’ve got a dozen people walking around pretending they’re witches, vampires, or fae. They all want enchanted tea, mystical scarves, and hexes on their exes until I tell them the tea only works if they clean their energy and stop dating musicians.”
“Harsh.”
“Necessary,” she said, dramatically flipping a spoon into a teacup with one hand. “They’re lucky I don’t start charging by the eye roll.”
I laughed and pulled off my gloves, fingers still tingling from the cold. The shop smelled like lemon balm and ginger root today, with a hint of toasted almond.
“I have news,” I said, still smiling.
Stella’s eyes narrowed playfully. “Good news?”
I nodded. “The Academy kind of good.”
That got her attention. She paused, mid-sip of her tea, and tilted her head. “Tell me now or I’ll throw this cup against the wall in protest.”
“I’ll tell you,” I said, slightly lowering my voice. “But I want to tell all of you.”
As if the universe wanted to help me make my point, I glanced out the window just in time to see Keegan heading into the hotel across the street. He was shrugging off his coat as he passed through the large doors, a curl of wind tugging at his hair.
I nodded toward the window. “Keegan’s just gone into the hotel. What do you say we close shop for a bit and pay him a visit?”
Stella looked around the shop and grabbed a box of cookies. The last few customers had just rounded up their drinks and gone outside.
“I’ve been dying for an excuse to close early,” Stella declared. “And this sounds like the best reason since that one time someone spotted a gryphon in the bakery.”
“That turned out to be a very large, angry goose.” I laughed. “Keegan told me all about it.”
“I stand by my story. It was a gryphon.”
Stella and I crossed the street, the cold biting a little more now that the clouds had thickened above the treetops.
Inside, the lobby was quiet and cozy. The fire crackled in the hearth, and Keegan stood at the front desk, flipping through a guest ledger with Ember. He looked up as we stepped in, and his whole face softened.
“You two look like trouble,” he said.
“Only the good kind,” I replied.
He arched a brow. “You brought her.”
Stella grinned. “And cookies.”
“Then I’m listening.”
He led us into the small lounge just off the lobby, a room filled with mismatched armchairs and low tables arranged around a fireplace that gave off just enough heat to make your cheeks rosy. We settled in, Stella passing out cookies like we were settling in for story hour.
I didn’t waste time.
“Nova crossed the threshold,” I said.
Keegan blinked. “Into the Academy?”
“She walked through the Butterfly Ward,” I said. “No resistance. No magic kicking her back. She’s in. She’s teaching. Or she will be teaching once we get some students.”
Stella’s mouth fell open. “Nova?”
Keegan leaned back in his chair. “So it’s happening. ”
I nodded. “It is. The Academy is opening. Slowly, carefully, but it’s happening. The rooms are shifting. Classrooms are forming. And the Academy…it spoke to me.”
Keegan’s eyes sharpened. “What did it say?”
I took a breath. “That I’m the Headmistress. That it’s time. That the curse will resist, but the Wards are beginning to strengthen. And that the first student who sets foot on the threshold will be the sign—the real beginning.”
Stella stared at me, then let out a low whistle. “Well, damn.”
Keegan let out a long breath and nodded, slow and thoughtful. “So, we’re not waiting anymore.”
“No,” I said. “We’re building. We’re readying. ”
Stella passed me a cookie. “You’re going to need a better wardrobe.”
“I just became Headmistress of a school that rearranges its walls depending on mood. I think my sturdy boots are the only thing holding me together.”
She laughed, and Keegan leaned forward, his expression softening.
“You’re not alone in this, Maeve.”
I met his eyes, steady and full of something warm and sure. “I know.”
The fire crackled.
The cookies vanished. And for the first time in what felt like years, everything began to feel like it was falling into place, not apart.
I was too full of it to stop now. The words kept coming, fast and warm, tumbling over one another like they’d been bottled up for too long and finally found their opening.
“There are three classrooms,” I said, shifting forward in my chair so quickly the cushion gave a little squeak. “Not one. Not two. Three.”
Keegan’s brows lifted. Stella, mid-bite into a cookie, paused and narrowed her eyes like she was trying to see the image in her head more clearly.
“Three?” Keegan asked.
“Yes,” I said, nearly breathless. “Nova’s is the third. You should see it. It’s like it grew out of her. Crystals, herbs, soft lighting, those little hovering lights she always says she doesn’t conjure, but we all know she does. It feels like the inside of her heart. Warm, weird, and full of things that smell like sage and wonder.”
“Sounds like her,” Stella said, settling back, lips twitching into a smile.
“The second one’s more subtle,” I went on. “It’s earthy—like roots and moss. There are botanical charts on the walls, and books on languages I’ve never seen. It has these terrariums, and a tree growing in the corner like it just decided to plant itself there. It’s meant for someone fae-touched, I’m sure of it. It’s for Ardetia.”
“The fae?” Keegan asked.
I nodded.
“And the first is Bella’s?” Keegan asked.
“Yup.”
“And when the Academy spoke to me, I felt like I was in some ethereal plane.”
“Are you allowed to tell us more?” Keegan asked.
“I think so.” I nodded. “It’s light. Not just sunlit. Light . Like the air carries memory. There are colorful cushions everywhere, like a place for people to sit and listen. A pedestal at the center that fits my hand perfectly. But the voice was so…otherworldly.”
Stella stared for a long moment, then blew out a breath. “Well, hell.”
Keegan laughed. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”
“Exactly.” I chuckled.
“And the Academy said the first student would be the sign?” Keegan asked. “That what? It’s officially open?”
I nodded. “Once that student steps onto the threshold, it means the Academy is officially up and running. Not just preparing. Open. Until then, it’s all warm-up.”
“And Nova…” Stella said, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully, “She’s fully in now?”
“She’s not only in,” I said, grinning, “she’s glowing. She looked like she’d found the place she was always meant to be.”
“That makes my heart hurt in a good way,” Stella said, brushing a crumb off her shawl. “She’s waited too long for that.”
“She has,” I agreed. “And now it’s happening. Slowly. But it’s real. And the Academy’s making room for it.”
Keegan nodded, and for a moment we just sat there, all of us letting the news soak in, like tea in hot water.
But the excitement still fluttered behind my ribs. There was more.
“Oh,” I added, like I’d just remembered my shoes were on fire. “Also. Turns out I’m a hedge witch.”
Stella choked on her tea. Keegan blinked, but didn’t look entirely surprised.
“A what?” Stella managed once she’d stopped coughing.
“Hedge witch,” I repeated. “Apparently, it means I walk between worlds. Not just magically, but… intrinsically. I don’t even have to think about it. I’ve been doing it without realizing—crossing boundaries, slipping between spaces.”
“Well,” Stella said, rubbing her chest with one hand and eyeing me with the other, “that explains why you can never find your keys. You’re never really here.”
I laughed. “I know, right? But I mean… it makes so much sense now. I kept ending up in places I shouldn’t have been able to reach. The signs were there. I just didn’t know what I was looking at.”
“Did your grandma know?” Keegan asked gently.
I hesitated. “She suspected. She said she didn’t want to label it too early or put that weight on me until I was ready. But I don’t know… sometimes it feels like maybe more people did know and just didn’t say anything.”
Stella made a soft noise in the back of her throat. “I’ve never liked labels.”
I looked at her.
“They feel like jars people want to screw the lid onto too tight,” she said, shrugging. “They keep you from spilling, but they also keep you from growing.”
“That sounds like something you read on a teabag,” Keegan said.
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Stella replied, unbothered. “But still. If you’re a hedge witch, you were born that way. You didn’t need the name to do the thing. You’ve been doing it your whole life, Maeve.”
“True,” I said, smiling at her. “But it’s still… something. To be seen that clearly. Even by the Academy.”
“I get that,” she said. “I do.”
Keegan leaned forward, elbows on the table. “What are you going to do next?”
I blinked. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” he said, “you’re the Headmistress. The rooms are open. Nova’s in. The first student could show up tomorrow. What’s your move?”
I stared at him. “I hadn’t gotten that far.”
He grinned. “Good. That’s what friends are for.”
Stella raised her cup. “To making it up as we go.”
I lifted mine in return. “To finally beginning.”
The fire crackled beside us. Outside the window, the clouds had started to break, shafts of pale winter light slicing down onto the village green.
For the first time in longer than I could remember, it felt like the waiting was over.
It was time to begin again.