“Very dragon,” Isabeau agreed.
Maeve reached over to the low table beside her chair, pulling the massive Book of Shadows into her lap with a soft grunt.
“Right,” she announced. “Enough emotional growth. Time for magic.”
“Questionable magic?” Isabeau asked hopefully.
“The best kind.”
Arietta sighed fondly. “You’re going to blow up another wall.”
“I’ll have you know,” Maeve said with dignity, “I have learned from my mistakes.”
“You wrote ‘less exploding’ on your hand.”
Maeve glanced down, the words had smudged slightly. “It’s a guideline.”
She opened the book anyway, flipping carefully through the thick pages. Ink shimmered faintly across ancient parchment, symbols shifting slightly beneath her fingers as the magic within the book reacted to being touched. Spell after spell flickered past, along with hand written notes from their mothers who were the previous guardians.
One page tried to bite her, Maeve smacked it lightly. “Behave.” The book rustled indignantly and then the cavern shifted.
A sudden gust of magical wind swept through the room without warning, cold and sharp enough to make all three witches jerk upright.
“What the—?”
The pages of the Book of Shadows flipped wildly on their own. Fast and violent, and the magic crackled through the air. The lights in the cavern pulsed, flashing from blue to green, to purple then red. Maeve’s breath caught because Merlin’s Gate was responding.
The wind stopped abruptly and silence crashed down as the book settled open on a single page. The title shimmered faintly in silver ink.
RIGHTING A WRONG
The three girls stared at it, then at each other.
“Well,” Isabeau said carefully. “That’s… new.”
Maeve’s pulse quickened slightly, excitement curling through her chest… the Gate had chosen.
Arietta leaned forward slightly, reading over Maeve’s shoulder. “This is old magic.”
Maeve nodded slowly. Power hummed beneath the page, ancient and deliberate… Intentional.
Like the spell had been waiting. Waiting specifically for… now.
A slow smile spread across Maeve’s face. “Looks like this is the one we’re practicing,” she said.
Arietta raised an eyebrow. “You say that like we have a choice.”
Maeve tapped the page lightly. “When the Gate calls,” she said simply, “we answer.”
Isabeau groaned dramatically. “Oh good. Mystical responsibility. My favourite.”
But she moved closer anyway, all three of them did. None of them noticed the pool behind them beginning to swirl. The waters of Merlin’s Gate shifted slowly, colours twisting beneath the surface, not the usual calm blue-green glow, but deeper now.
Purple. Silver. Red.
Magic pulsed outward in slow waves. An ancient power awakening.
19
