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Someone knocked on the door. It was a polite, measured rhythm that somehow sounded both respectful and absolutely determined. All heads turned in that direction in alarm.

"I'll get it," Stella said, bouncing up with only a slight wince. The corruption in her arm had receded enough for normal movement, though dark veins still traced patterns under her skin.

She returned with three women I didn't recognize. They were witches. That much was clear. Their power radiated from them in waves that made my magical senses practically vibrate. But their energy felt older and wilder than I was used to.

"Phoebe," Stella said with forced cheer, "I'm sure you remember our coven sisters. Vera, Iris, and Tansy." She gestured to each in turn. Well, shit. I had no recollection of them whatsoever. Apparently, I was a stellar coven member.

Vera stepped forward. She had silver-streaked auburn hair braided with small bones and dried flowers. Because nothing said ‘I'm a serious witch’ like wearing dead things in your hair. "We came as soon as we felt the disturbance."

"What did you feel?"

"The earth itself is screaming. Whatever that lunatic is doing, it's an abomination. We felt it in our bones. It's good to see you, Clio,” Iris replied.

Clio immediately moved forward for warm hugs with all three women. "I'm so glad you came," Clio said, embracing each in turn. "We really need the help."

"Of course we came," Vera said as if it should have been obvious, which only made me more embarrassed because I couldn’t recall them at all.

"We brought supplies," Tansy said. She appeared to be close to my age. "Protective plants from our coven’s collections."

"Which herbs?" Clio asked, her inner healer perking up like a bloodhound catching a scent.

Tansy unpacked her basket, pulling out herbs I didn’t recognize. Some glowed like they'd swallowed glow sticks. Others absorbed every photon in a three-foot radius, creating pools of absolute darkness. And a few hummed little ditties in harmonies that would've been charming if they weren't so unsettling.

"This is moonbell," Tansy explained, holding up silver flowers that sounded like wind chimes having an anxiety attack. "It only grows where the veil between worlds is tissue-paper thin. When properly prepared, it shields unborn children from harmful magical influences." My hand shot to my belly faster than Nana moved toward chocolate.

"And this," Iris added with way too much enthusiasm, displaying moss that redirected light around itself like a green traffic director, "is graveyard keeper's moss. It deals with all kinds of possession—demons, ghosts, ancient spirits who think they have squatter's rights to living bodies. Basically, it’s a supernatural restraining order that tells them to find a different hobby."

"And this is stormcaller root,” Tansy shared as she lifted twisted roots that smelled like thunderstorms.

"That disrupts external magical connections," Iris explained. "Creates interference patterns that scramble parasitic bonds."

I perked up like a dog hearing a treat bag crinkle. "That could help with my current problem."

"Maybe," Tansy said with the careful tone of someone who'd seen too many magical experiments end in property damage. "But the preparation is dangerous. It has to be brewed during anactual thunderstorm. The witch doing it risks becoming a very well-done conductor."

"I'll do it," I announced, because pregnancy had apparently murdered my sense of self-preservation and buried it in a shallow grave.

"Absolutely not," Aidon growled. "You're not putting yourself in more danger."

"Wait," I said, a thought occurring to me that should've been obvious from the start. "Do any of you know how to fix the ley lines? Or cleanse them? Because if we're talking about magical solutions, that seems like it should be priority number one. We can make the tea after."

The three witches exchanged glances that spoke volumes about things I probably didn't want to know. "That's..." Tansy began carefully, "significantly more complicated than protective herbs."

"How complicated are we talking? Like 'might blow up the neighborhood' complicated, or 'might accidentally tear a hole in reality' complicated?"

"Yes," all three said in unison. Perfect. Just perfect.

As the witches continued their magical herb show-and-tell, dread settled in my stomach like I'd swallowed a lead weight. Whether it was my anxiety or Lyra, another vision tickled the edges of my awareness. My body knew it before my brain caught up. My muscles tensed, and I began breathing shallowly. My fight-or-flight instinct kicked in hard.

This time, instead of fighting it like I was arm-wrestling an octopus, I let myself sink into Lyra's perspective. Yeah, I was a glutton for psychological punishment. It was a problem I needed to deal with before it got me killed.

The stone chamber had been redecorated since my last involuntary visit. Ancient jewelry now glittered on marble pedestals. They looked like expensive and terrifying museumexhibits. Looking closer, I realized the seven necklaces held actual miniature stars. That was the source of the pulsing with white-hot light. There were also seven bracelets carved from what appeared to be solidified moonlight. Next there were seven rings. Each containing a swirling galaxy and were no bigger than marbles. Something in me recognized them. They belonged to the original Pleiades sisters. They were their power focuses. And she had them. Well, shit.

"Soon, my darlings," Lyra crooned to the artifacts like they were beloved pets instead of ancient magical weapons. "Soon I will wield your power. The Pleiades bloodline will unlock what you've been guarding all these centuries. No more being trapped in cold metal and stone. You'll flow through me.” She was planning on using my babies to give her seven bloodlines worth of magic. The gods knocked the Pleiades sisters down because they were too powerful. The thought of her wielding all seven bloodlines was terrifying.

“I'll be unstoppable." Lyra’s smile was wicked. Every nerve in my body fired at once. It felt like touching a live wire.

"The preparations are nearly complete," she continued, lifting a necklace. The starlight pulsed with my heartbeat. There was an answering pull from the triplets. "Three little lights to anchor the first revival. Once they're properly prepared, the others will follow." The vision shattered as someone shook my shoulder.