The darkness flared suddenly, brighter than it should be, pulsing with light instead of absorbing it. Sage's own magic responded, green and gold sparks dancing where skin met shadow. The air crackled, sharp and electric.
Maren jerked back, pulling her shadows in hard. "Sage, are you okay?"
"That was different," Sage said, tilting her head. "It felt sparkly."
Freya dropped the mortar and crossed the room in three strides. "What happened?"
"I don't know." Maren's hands shook slightly. "My shadows have never done that before. Never with her, never with anyone."
Freya knelt beside her daughter, checking for burns or marks. "Sage, does anything hurt?"
"No, Mama. It tickled."
"Tickled," Freya repeated, looking at Maren with concern creasing her forehead. "Your shadows reacted to her magic?"
"More like they recognized it." Maren tried to steady her breathing. "Like meeting another shadow for the first time."
"But she's not shadow-touched. She's earth and growth, like me."
"I know." Maren stood slowly, putting distance between herself and Sage. "Something's wrong with my magic. Since yesterday morning, it's been—off."
"The distortion you mentioned?"
"Maybe. I don't know." Maren pressed her palms against her temples. "Everything feels unstable. Like the magic's looking for something and can't find it."
The apothecary door chimed. Both women turned to find a middle-aged man Maren vaguely recognized stepping inside, his expression tight with barely controlled anger.
"You," he said, pointing at Maren. "You were at my house this morning."
Maren's stomach dropped. "I wasn't?—"
"My daughter saw you. Walking past on the forest path." He took a step forward. "Right before our wards started cracking."
"I went to gather herbs. I didn't touch anyone's property."
"But your shadows did something. Maya said they looked wrong. Bigger than they should be."
Freya moved between them. "Thomas, your wards are old. We've told you three times to have them reinforced before winter."
"They were fine until she walked by."
"Correlation isn't?—"
"I don't care about your fancy words, Freya." Thomas's voice rose. "I care that my home's protections started failing right after that witch passed by with her dark magic."
"My shadows don't break wards," Maren said, forcing her voice steady.
"Then why are three houses reporting the same thing? Wards cracking. Protections failing. All after you walked through that part of town." He pointed at her again, hand shaking. "You're doing something. The Council needs to know."
"The Council already knows I'm here," Maren said. "They've tested my magic. I'm not?—"
"Not what? Not dangerous?" Thomas laughed, harsh and bitter. "Tell that to the people who died in your last town. Tell that to the families who lost everything because you couldn't control whatever darkness you carry."
Maren's shadows recoiled violently, snapping back so fast they left frost patterns on the floorboards.
"Get out," Freya said, voice gone cold as winter stone. "Get out of my shop."
"She's cursed," Thomas continued, ignoring Freya entirely. "Everyone knows it. Everyone's seen what happens when she's around. And now she's cracking our wards, breaking our protections?—"
