"Maeve's right," Rufus said from his position against the wall. "I've known Maren for two years. She's kept to herself, maintained her wards, never caused trouble. If she wanted to hurt people, she had plenty of opportunities before now."
The support seemed to surprise Maren. Tristan felt her straighten beside him as her shadows settling into less defensive patterns.
"We vote," Emmett said. "Council decision. Do we continue with Officer Ash's investigation, or do we take immediate action against Maren Pitch based on circumstantial evidence?"
"I vote for continued investigation," Miriam said immediately.
"I vote for immediate restriction," Bram said. "At minimum, she should be bound until we know for certain she's not a threat."
"Binding without proof of guilt violates every principle this Council was founded on," Emmett said. "My vote is for investigation. Three days, as previously agreed. If Officer Ash hasn't found evidence by then, we reconvene and discuss next steps."
The crowd remained tense, poised between acceptance and rebellion. Snow fell heavier outside the windows, visible in the lamplight, turning the world beyond the hall into something distant and unreal.
"Three days," Emmett repeated, his voice carrying finality. "Meeting adjourned."
People began filing out slowly, shooting glances at Maren that ranged from suspicious to openly hostile. Tristan kept his position until the last person had left, his presence a silent warning that remained effective even without words.
When the hall finally emptied except for the Council members and Maren, Emmett turned to Tristan with exhaustion written clearly on his face.
"You're running out of time," he said quietly. "And I'm running out of political capital to keep protecting her."
"I know." Tristan's jaw tightened. "But I need you to trust me. I'm close to something. I can feel it."
"Close isn't enough if someone gets hurt before you find proof."
"No one's getting hurt. Not on my watch."
Emmett took a long breath and nodded slowly. "Three days, Ash. Don't make me regret this."
16
MAREN
Freya caught them before they'd made it ten steps from the Council Hall.
"Maren, wait." The nature witch hurried through the snow, her copper-auburn waves escaping from beneath a knitted cap. "I need you to come to the apothecary. Someone's been asking for you."
Maren's shadows stirred warily. After the hostility in the meeting, the idea of anyone asking for her felt suspect. "Who?"
"Sage." Freya's green eyes softened. "She's been worried. Keeps asking when Pretty Maren is coming back."
Maren's chest loosened with fondness and gratitude. A three-year-old's concern felt more genuine than anything else she'd encountered today.
"I'll come with you," Tristan said before she could respond. "Council requirement after tonight's meeting."
"Of course." Maren hadn't expected anything else. Three days of investigation meant three days of constant supervision, whether she wanted it or not.
Whether she was starting to want it or not.
They walked through quiet streets, most of Hollow Oak having retreated indoors after the meeting. Snow fell steadily, muffling sound, turning the world soft and distant. Lamplight glowed in windows, warm against the cold, and somewhere a dog barked before being called inside.
Normal. Peaceful. As if the town hadn't just spent an hour debating whether to bind her magic or exile her entirely.
The apothecary appeared ahead, its green door cheerful against white-painted walls. Warmth spilled from the windows, and Maren could see Sage's small silhouette moving inside, probably rearranging her flower collection for the hundredth time.
Freya pushed open the door. "Look who I found."
Sage's head whipped around, her face lighting up with uncomplicated joy. "Maren!" She abandoned her flowers and ran across the shop, throwing small arms around Maren's legs with enough force to nearly knock her backward.
