with a clairsentient witch is definitely not all it’s cracked up to be.
“Starting,” Doc says, covertly squeezing my hand under the table, “with the fact that our Dark enemies are not the only ones blessed with the power of the Major Arcana.”
“Wait, don’t tell me.” Carly presses her fingers to her temples as if she’s trying to predict the punchline, clearly assuming this is a joke. “Stevie’s the Star. Starla Milan, Star… Get it?”
She glances at me, the smile frozen on her face as she waits for the rest of us to laugh.
But all I can do is shrug and grin. “Guess you really do know everything, Carly.”
The guys and I let Doc do most of the talking, filling in the blanks on the history of the Brotherhood, including my mother’s involvement as the World Arcana and Phaines’s role as the Dark Hierophant. Out of respect for Lala’s privacy, we don’t mention her by name, saying only that the High Priestess has been assisting us inside the dream realm, helping us unravel some of the mysteries about how the Arcana energies manifest in physical form and what, if anything, we can do to stop them from carrying out their mission.
We tell them about finding the Chalice of Blood and Sorrow, and about last night’s crazy adventure, including my visions of the Chariot, the attack we suffered at the Fool’s Grave, and Jareth swooping in to save us from certain doom.
It seems like hours before we get the whole story out, each of us taking turns to share our gifts and our nature, the legends and lore we’ve pieced together so far, my mother’s prophecies. But no matter how crazy it all sounds, the witches gathered here—Professor Maddox, Professor Broome, Nat, Isla, and Carly—take it all in stride, their energy swirling with amazement and curiosity and a deep, unwavering respect.
Even Carly, who insists she’s still calling me Twink, no matter how powerful I become, can’t hide the fact that she’s a hundred percent in our corner. In my corner.
As I sip my pineapple mimosa and look around at the witches and mages gathered here, it’s hard for me to remember a time when I didn’t have magickal friends. When I actually believed magick was a curse, no matter how deeply I craved this knowledge. Since I enrolled at the Academy, my life has changed so much—and I owe it all to magick. To the path that was hidden from me for so long, finally revealed.
Despite the challenges, the dangers, the threats still looming, I wouldn’t chose another path for anything. I belong here, and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep my friends safe.
To protect the ones I love, no matter what the cost.
Finally, when the telling is complete, the barrage of questions answered, and the last of the champagne poured, Doc clinks his fork against his glass, calling for a toast.
“As an Arcana mage and member of the Keepers of the Grave, it is my sworn duty and honor to protect magick and all those who are blessed with it,” he says, lifting his glass in salute. “I renew that vow today, in the presence of everyone gathered here, every one of whom I’m proud to call a friend.”
“And as your friends,” Professor Maddox says, raising her glass, “we take your vow as our own. I pledge my service to protect magick and all who are blessed with it, for all of you and for all the generations of mages and witches to come.”
The other witches follow suit, solemnly repeating her words and raising their glasses, solidifying a promise that will echo in my heart for the rest of eternity.
“To magick and friendship,” Professor Maddox says.
“To magick and friendship,” comes the unanimous reply, all of us clinking our glasses and drinking in solidarity. In friendship. In love.
Finished with her mimosa, Professor Maddox sets down her glass and rises from her chair, a familiar psychotic light dancing in her eyes—one that tells me she’s about to start dancing on desks again, and we’re about to get homework.
“I’ll get the markers and poster board,” she says, beaming with renewed energy and a fiery sense of purpose I haven’t seen in her since the Academy canceled classes. “We’ve got big plans to make, witches. Big plans.”
Twenty-Four
STEVIE
“Good afternoon, my Gingersnap.” I set a plate of lemon sunshine bread on the table next to Ani’s bed and climb in beside him, burying my face in the crook of his neck. Even in a magickal coma,