Page 12 of Magical Midlife Conclave

“Talk me through it.” Aljoe slid a bookmark into the crease of his book and set it on the table. He clasped his hands in his lap patiently.

So much better than a plant.

3

Jessie

It was six months until the conclave, and we were all gearing up. That time would pass in a blink, I knew it would. It needed to go well, and to do that, preparation for it was so incredibly important.

I slipped on my muumuu as the sun was sinking toward the horizon. A sheen of sweat covered my limbs, and I still hadn’t totally caught my breath.

“Looking good, Jessie.” A newer guardian gave me a thumbs-up as he strolled by with a buddy. They both had long wings and big shoulders, and each held a muumuu. They were strong and fast fliers, like many of the gargoyles coming in by droves to join our team.

“Yeah, real strong.” The other guy nodded with a delighted grin.

“Thanks.” I tucked my hair behind my ears as Tristan met me at our clothes pile.

“How do you feel?” He slipped his muumuu on and started walking.

I shrugged and fell in step beside him. “Good. I think I have the flight pattern thing down.”

“You do. You look great up there.”

“The spells Sebastian has me learning are a little weak, though.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. They’ll be fine for most non-magicals, but they won’t get through a magical shield.”

Tristan nodded in understanding. “He’s preparing for the conclave right now. Neither he nor Nimah—nor Nessa, for that matter—think Momar will make a large-scale move just yet. They’ve all agreed he’ll want to get information first. Weaker spells are safer.”

That was definitely true. It just felt like a waste of time for what was to come.

Conclave first. Attacking mages after. We needed our army. Without it, we wouldn’t have enough power behind us.

I sighed. “What a crazy turn my life took, huh? I am trying to amass an army, Tristan. That is absolutely wild. Some days I can’t believe this is my life.”

“I hear that. I thought I would wander forever. Now I am trying to put down roots in a small town in the Sierra foothills and trust my life and the secrets of my past to a female gargoyle, her off-kilter team, and a little sprite who has stolen my heart.”

I lifted my eyebrows, knowing who he was talking about and surprised to hear him admit it.

He shrugged. “There’s no point in hiding it anymore, is there? You’ve offered me a life, and now, for the first time, I’m dreaming of a future.”

A wave of emotion overcame me. “Does she know?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly weary. “No. Nor do I know if she’ll ever give in to her feelings. Doesn’t matter if she does or she doesn’t. Hope is eternal.”

Tears pricked at my eyes. “Since when are you a poet?”

“I don’t think…that is all that poetic…?”

I laughed and hugged him. “We’re all going to get a happy ending, you’ll see. Just as soon as I’m back to exploding heads, we’ll be cooking with fire.”

“And other clichés and stuff.”

I laughed again and continued through the door. “There’s just one thing.”

“What’s that? Poetry lessons?”