Chapter Twenty-Seven
I found Nova, as I always did, when life demanded that I question every choice that had led us to where we were in the moment.
She was seated near the tall windows of the eastern study. The light caught her raven-dark hair, and her green eyes were half-lidded, as if she were listening to something just beneath the room itself.
Ardetia stood nearby, fingertips grazing a floating diagram of sigils that rearranged themselves whenever she frowned.
Bella leaned against a bookcase with her arms crossed, tail flicking lazily behind her in a way that suggested she was relaxed but absolutely not off duty and still debating whether she felt like being a full fox or a full human today.
They all looked up the moment I stepped inside.
“That look,” Bella said, pushing off the shelf. “I know that look.”
“I was hoping you wouldn’t,” I replied.
Nova smiled softly. “But we do.”
I exhaled and moved farther into the room, the door easing shut behind me with the Academy’s quiet approval.
“It’s about the spell,” I said. “The one Celeste cast.”
Ardetia’s expression shifted, sharpening with interest. “The transmutation hex.”
“Yes,” I said. “Though calling it that feels generous considering how… emotional it was.”
Bella snorted. “First spells usually are.”
I folded my hands together to keep them from fidgeting. “I’ve been reading, and as usual, the library was… very helpful.”
Nova inclined her head. “It always is when you ask the right question.”
“I’m not sure I did,” I admitted. “But one thing kept coming up over and over. The caster has the best chance of reversing a spell cleanly. With the least resistance.”
Silence settled briefly.
“And since that caster is my daughter,” I continued, “who is still learning what it means to hold magic at all, I need to know what the best option is, not the easiest, but the safest.”
Nova didn’t answer right away. She rose slowly from her chair, moving closer, her presence grounding in a way that made it easier to breathe.
“You’re correct,” she said finally. “Celeste undoing the hex herself would be the cleanest resolution. The magic recognizes its source. It yields more readily. If she’s unable to do so, you would be the most logical in line. There are risks with any option.”
My chest tightened. “But?”
“But,” Nova said gently, “she shouldn’t do it alone.”
Ardetia nodded. “The spell wasn’t just power. It was intent layered with emotion, and undoing it requires understanding both.”
Bella uncrossed her arms. “Which she can learn. Quickly, if she has the right support.”
I looked between them, hope and fear tangling together. “You’re saying it’s possible.”
“Yes,” Nova said. “With patience, guidance, and boundaries.”
“Boundaries,” I repeated.
Ardetia gestured to the sigils hovering near her hand. “She doesn’t need to feel everything she felt when she cast it. That would risk reinforcing the spell rather than releasing it. We’ll teach her how to approach it from a place of control instead of reaction.”
Bella grinned. “Think of it as unlearning a flinch.”
I excelled at those recently.
“And if one of you tried to reverse it?” I asked. “If Celeste wasn’t ready?”
Nova’s gaze held mine, steady and unflinching. “We could. But it would be louder. Messier. And it would leave traces.”
“Traces,” I echoed.
“Signatures,” Bella clarified. “Magic remembers who touches it.”
“And who notices those signatures?” I asked quietly.
Nova didn’t hesitate. “Anyone looking.”
The Priestess’s shadow loomed unspoken between us.
I nodded slowly. “Then Celeste needs to do it before she leaves.”
“Yes,” Nova said. “And before any unwanted visitors arrive.”
Ardetia’s eyes flicked briefly toward the ceiling, toward the deeper wards. “Timing matters.”
“How much time do we have?” I asked.
Bella shrugged. “Hard to say. Days, maybe. Less if the spell stabilizes further.”
So much for giving her all the time she needed.
My pulse picked up. “So we guide her carefully.”
“All of us,” Nova said.
I blinked. “All three?”
Ardetia smiled faintly. “Different perspectives matter. I can help her understand the structure of the spell. Nova can help her regulate the emotional current. Bella can keep it grounded.”
Bella tapped her chest. “And make sure nobody overthinks themselves into a magical knot.”
For the first time since I’d entered the room, I laughed. “She’s going to love that.”
“She already likes us,” Bella said. “Which helps.”
I sobered again. “She’s scared. She doesn’t want to hurt anyone.”
“That’s why she won’t,” Nova said simply. “Fear doesn’t corrupt magic, but refusal to feel it does. That’s why arrogance in spellwork rarely goes according to plan.”
I drew a breath. “She goes back to college soon.”
“We know,” Ardetia said. “That’s why we’ll start immediately.”
“And if she can’t finish it in time?” I asked.
Nova met my gaze. “Then we pause. We don’t force it.”
I swallowed. “Even if that means—”
“Even then,” Nova said firmly. “Her autonomy matters. Especially now. Your ex is far less important than Celeste’s safety.”
I chuckled at Nova’s endless honesty.
“Thank you,” I said quietly. “All of you.”
Bella stepped closer and squeezed my shoulder. “She’s not alone. Neither are you.”
Ardetia inclined her head. “We’ll meet with her tonight. Gently. No pressure.”
Nova smiled, a warmth and reassurance in her expression. “This isn’t about fixing a mistake. It’s about teaching release.”
“Thank you.”
We weren’t outrunning the danger.
We were meeting it with care.