“More orcs have come. These ones were from the north. Word is spreading fast that Stonewick is a haven, of sorts.”
“Things feel so different at the inn. Ember noticed it too.”
“How exactly?”
“They’re not passing through,” he said. “They’re unpacking. I mean, like, really settling in.”
The words sank heavily as I thought about the shifters and the orcs.
“They’re bringing trunks. Entire families are showing up with supplies.” He paused. “One coven brought heirloom stones because they worried that if they left them behind, there would be nothing when they returned.”
I closed my eyes briefly.
“More displacement,” I murmured.
“Yes.”
“And I can tell the students are already nervous.”
“Only natural.”
“They’re midlife witches. They’ve survived marriages, careers, betrayal, children, and reinvention. They’re not fragile.”
“I didn’t say they were,” he said quietly. “But this is all about the unknown that isn’t controlled by them.”
“You’re right. We’re not impenetrable.”
“They signed up for classes on potions and Wards,” he continued. “Not border negotiations.”
“Yeah, well, timing is everything…”
He leaned back slightly, studying me. “What are you thinking?”
I hesitated, and the pit in my stomach deepened.
“I think she miscalculated,” I said.
“The Priestess.”
“Yes.”
“But she always recalculates,” he replied.
“I know.” I stared down at the wood grain of the table. “But she’s pushing destabilization. She’s forcing movement. She thinks that if enough magical communities feel threatened, they’ll look for a single authority to restore order.”
“And you think she’s right.”
“No.” I looked up. “I think she’s half right.”
He didn’t speak.
“She didn’t account for interception,” I continued. “If creatures and covens and clans are moving, they don’t have to move toward her.”
“They can move here,” he said.
“They already are.”
Silence stretched between us.
