Page 191 of Magical Meaning


Font Size:

More like someone I should recognize.

My gaze shifted slowly from Gideon…

…to Keegan.

The wolf hadn’t moved.

But now that I was really looking, really comparing—

The realization slid into place so quietly that it made my stomach drop.

Oh.

Oh no.

My eyes flicked back to Gideon.

Then to Keegan again.

And suddenly I understood exactly why he had looked so familiar.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

The clearing slowly began to breathe again.

It began as small movements, with people shifting where they stood, brushing leaves from their clothes, helping one another back to their feet, and then the murmur of voices rose. It wasn’t in panic or shouting like in town, mere hours before. It was only the low rumble of people trying to make sense of something none of them had ever expected to see.

I pushed away from the tree that I’d leaned against and took a slow look around the clearing.

A few minutes ago, everyone had been fighting. Now the orcs stood in small groups, shoulders still tight, but their weapons hung lower at their sides. The shifters were shifting back one by one—someone pulling on a jacket, someone else running a hand through hair full of leaves and dirt. Near the hedge, a knot of witches had gathered, their hands still faintly lit with leftover magic as they spoke in low voices, the kind people use when they’re trying to make sense of something that almost got out of control.

Everywhere I looked, people were doing the same thing.

Talking.

Replaying what had just happened.

“…the Priestess,” someone was saying a few yards away.

“I’m telling you, it was her.”

“And she ran.”

“She did run.”

Another voice chimed in, half awed. “The Priestess of Shadowick… and she ran.”

I leaned against the tree again for a moment, listening.

It was strange hearing it out loud.

A few hours ago, the Priestess had been more rumor than reality, only something whispered about in the darker corners of magical history. Now, half the town had just watched her stand in the woods outside Stonewick.

And leave.

The thought sent a strange ripple through the clearing.

Relief.