Stella had joined us without a sound, her expression sharpened with interest and concern. “Then what does it feel like?”
Twobble’s jaw tightened. “Heavier.”
“Heavier how?” I pressed.
“Stout,” Twobble said, lowering his voice. “Dense. These aren’t gliding or slipping steps. This presence presses through the ground.”
A chill slid down my spine.
“Pressing through,” I repeated.
“Exactly,” he said. “The UnderLoom can feel the strain. Old stone doesn’t like being pushed, Maeve. It notices.”
My hand drifted instinctively to my hip. The birthmark was warm again.
“Could this be the Priestess?” I asked.
Twobble hesitated just long enough to make my heart stutter. Then he shook his head.
“Not directly. Maybe. No. Yes.”
“That’s not comforting,” Keegan muttered.
“It shouldn’t be,” Twobble replied. “Because whatever this is, it’s organized.”
Stella’s eyes narrowed. “Organized how?”
“Group movement,” Twobble said. “Not a single entity probing. Multiple bodies moving with intent. Coordinated. Slow enough not to collapse the tunnels, heavy enough to test them.”
“Testing for what?” I asked.
“For resistance,” he said. “For response time.”
The words landed like a stone dropped into still water. “Is she building an army?”
The wind shifted across the courtyard, and one of the vampires glanced our way, her expression narrowing just a fraction before smoothing. She wasn’t afraid. She was alert.
I swallowed. “Where are they coming from?”
“Not inside Stonewick,” Twobble said. “Yet. They’re circling the deeper routes. The old paths that predate Wards and roads. Places most surface magic doesn’t touch, but they are a ways out yet.”
“That’s bad,” I said.
“Yes,” Twobble agreed. “That’s very bad.”
Keegan leaned closer to him. “Can the UnderLoom tell what they are?”
Twobble grimaced. “It can tell what they’re not.”
“And that is?”
“They’re not shadow-creatures. They’re not glamour-bound. Creature nor spectral,” he said. “They have mass. Structure. Whatever’s moving across the land was built to survive resistance.”
Built.
The word made my pulse kick harder.
“Can you give me more to go on?” I asked, forcing my voice steady. “Size? Shape? Anything.”
