My mark flared and screamed a warning.
From the cottage, distant but bright, a flicker of Elira’s anchor answered.
And somewhere in those same shadows, faint as a heartbeat through walls, I felt Gideon’s presence twist…
Before the priestess’s magic surged, and the world went dark around the edges.
Chapter Thirty-One
The world exploded—not with sound, but withshifts.
The high priestess’s shadows surged outward, not toward me, but toward Stonewick’s center.
For one heartbeat, all I could do was watch.
The dark that had been coiled politely at her feet unfurled like a nest of snakes. It poured down the cobbles, slithering between stones, climbing up lampposts, threading through cracks under doors.
The sky dimmed.
Not like a cloud passed over the sun, but like someone had pulled a sheer black curtain over the day. Colors blanched. The red of Stella’s trim dulled to rust. The blue of the apothecary sign went slate. Even the flowers in the window boxes bowed, petals folding in on themselves.
One of the lampposts nearest the square shuddered. Its iron length warped under the caress of shadow, twisting, curling into a spiral that bent over the street like a hooked finger. Light sputtered in its glass casing, then went out, leaving only a faint, heartbeat-red glow flickering inside.
The fountain, already frozen and cracked, responded next. Shadow slid up its sides, sinking into the carved stone nymphs. Their eyes, once pleasantly vacant, filled with black. One of themturnedits head to look directly at me, water-frozen hair creaking.
“Nope,” I whispered, because I was only human.
The shadows didn’t stop at architecture.
They reached for the village itself.
Around the edges of the square, the cozy, familiar buildings shuddered and… leaned. Nothing toppled, but theiranglesshifted, as if a painter had tugged at the corners of reality. Lines that should’ve been straight began to curve. Windows stretched taller, narrower, like watchful eyes. Doorways seemed to shrink and darken, thresholds turning skinnier, meaner.
A faint hum started up beneath it all, low and unnerving.
Behind me, the tea shop door slammed open.
“Subtlety’s dead!” Stella announced. “Everyone outside!”
They poured out in a rush. Keegan, pale and shadowed; Twobble and Skonk, clinging to each other and arguing about who should go first; my parents, already moving in practiced patterns; Nova, staff blazing; Ardetia, a halo of frost; Bella, in fox form, fur fluffed into a suspiciously adorable bristle.
The Silver Wolf bounded past me like a living silver storm.
Lady Limora and her trio stepped out more measuredly, but even they looked slightly shaken, eyes flicking over the warping square.
“Ah,” Limora said softly. “That’s not ideal.”
“You think?” I shook my head.
The priestess watched the flood of people with mild interest, like someone observing a flock of birds startled from a tree.
Then she lifted both hands.
The shadows responded in a dizzying array.
They shot up into the air in long, thin strands, weaving themselves into a lattice overhead. In seconds, a net of darkness spanned the square.
No, not just the square. Beyond it, I saw the threads stretching down alleys, arcing over rooftops.
