“Then we find another way.”
“What if there’s no other way? What if this is all for nothing and we can’t protect Killian and Igryside comes for him and we’re not ready and I can’t...”
“Take it easy,” he interrupted gently. “We will face everything together.”
I took a breath and nodded.
Casimya was breaking wards as we went, her hands moving in patterns I couldn’t follow. Sparks of magic flew where her fingers passed through the air. The forest seemed to respond, the trees shifting slightly, the paths straightening.
Then I saw it. A cottage, small and neat, tucked into the trees like it had grown there naturally. It was heavily warded, shimmering with protective spells. Nearly invisible if you weren’t looking directly at it.
We approached carefully. Mal signaled the guards to spread out, taking defensive positions. He and I stepped forward together toward the cottage door.
Before we could knock, the door flew open.
A woman appeared in the doorway. Older, with gray hair pulled back in a braid, sharp eyes, and a powerful presence that made the air itself feel heavier. Magic crackled around her hands, purple sparks dancing between her fingers. I’d never seen magic so visible before.
And she was ready to attack.
“Who are you? How did you find me?” she demanded.
I stepped forward quickly, holding my hands up. “Please, we mean no harm.”
“That is what they all say before attacking.” The magic around her hands intensified.
Mal moved protectively closer to me, gripping his sword hilt. “We are not attacking.”
“The wolf stays back,” Tyreen said sharply.
“No,” Mal replied flatly.
“It’s okay,” I said to Mal, touching his arm. Then to Tyreen: “My name is Gwendolyn.”
Tyreen stared at me, her eyes narrowing. “Gwendolyn? You look familiar. Who - No.Whatare you?”
“My grandmother’s name was Mary. My grandfather was Louis,” I said, watching her face. “I recently discovered I have witch ancestry.”
The change was dramatic. The magic around Tyreen’s hands dissipated like smoke. Her expression shifted from hostile to shocked.
“Mary,” she whispered. Then louder, “Marya. You look just like her.”
My breath caught. “So you do know her?”
Tyreen was crying now, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I was her second. Her friend. I helped her flee to Earth.” Her voice broke. “I thought the whole line was gone.”
She reached toward me hesitantly, and I let her. Her fingers touched my face gently, tracing my features like she was seeing a ghost.
“You have her eyes,” she said, voice barely audible. “Her cheekbones. Gods, it’s like she’s standing in front of me again.”
I was crying too. “I need your help. Igryside is hunting us.”
Tyreen’s expression darkened. “So they never stopped.” Then her tone softened. “Come inside. All of you, even the dogs. We have much to discuss.”
She lowered the wards with a gesture, the shimmer of protective magic fading. Mal and Casimya followed me inside, pointedly ignoring thedogscomment. I found it funny. The guards stayed outside, keeping watch.
The cottage was cozy but cluttered with things. Herbs hung drying from the rafters in neat bundles. Crystals lined the windowsills, catching what little light filtered through the trees.Books were stacked everywhere, ancient tomes with cracked leather bindings piled on every available surface. It smelled like lavender and old paper, which tugged at my chest. It felt like home. My grandma used to smell like this sometimes.
Tyreen couldn’t stop staring at me as she prepared tea with shaking hands. Every few seconds, her eyes would find my face again, like she couldn’t believe I was real.
