There was simply a presence there.
Something about it felt wrong, though. It wasn’t necessarily dangerous in an obvious way, but there was something out of place.
Ardetia went still beside me, and Nova’s grip tightened on the movement-stone. We all felt it.
Without warning, the edges of the vision began to blur. Ripples disturbed the images, and for a brief second, it looked like it might collapse entirely.
“Hold it,” Nova murmured. “Keep the impression steady.”
The air around us trembled as my gaze stayed steady and focused on my mom.
In the clearing, the cloaked figure shifted and slowly turned its head, as though it had felt our attention on it.
I couldn’t see the face beneath the hood, but the sense of it reached me all the same.
There was nothing frantic in the movement. No wildness.
Whoever stood there moved with complete control, the quiet confidence of someone who believed they had every right to occupy that space.
A chill ran up my arms, and the memory broke apart so suddenly I stumbled forward, gasping.
I lifted my hands instinctively to grab at the images, reaching for something I couldn’t control.
Nova lowered the stone in her hand, and her expression looked strained. It was unusual for much to ever bother Nova, but this did.
Ardetia still had a hand on my elbow, steadying me.
I stood there for a moment, trying to slow my breathing. My hands hadn’t stopped shaking yet. Seeing my mom so willingly go toward the Priestess wasn’t something I was ready to see. I thought I could handle it, but it wrecked me.
And what worried me was that my mom never noticed what was in the shadows, so what else would she miss once she got to her mother’s compound?
“What was that?” I asked.
Nova looked from me to Ardetia before answering.
“There was definitely something else there,” Nova said, nodding.
“Maybe shadows to help if your mom decided not to go willingly?” Ardetia offered.
“Or a trap,” I said.
Neither of them argued with me.
The Archive Hall had gone still again, the floating lights barely moving. One of them flickered, just for a moment, and the brief dimming made the room feel deeper than it had a second before.
I waited for the dread to come back.
But something else rose instead.
Relief.
It surprised me enough that I had to close my eyes for a second and steady my breathing.
My mother hadn’t been dragged into the Wilds. She hadn’t stumbled into something she didn’t understand. The memory had been clear about that much. Every step she took had been deliberate.
She had chosen that path.
And if she had chosen it, then she had gone in with her eyes open.
