“So, maybe it’s just the same type of thing…only, from the Priestess’s perspective. I know she would love nothing more than to put doubt inside you.”
Doubt could be more insidious than terror, and it lasted longer.
I stared at the fire until it blurred.
“I don’t know what to do with it,” I admitted. “I don’t know how to… unsee it.”
Keegan’s hand found mine, fingers threading through like he was lacing me back into my own body.
“Maybe you’re not meant to unsee it. Now, we’re aware of possibilities, and all of our choices will be made accordingly. Just don’t let secrets eat you alive. You can always talk to me.”
“Thank you,” I whispered as a soft clatter sounded beyond the doorway.
Footsteps in a familiar, brisk rhythm came quickly.
I barely had time to lift my head before Miora appeared in the kitchen archway, hair pinned up messily, sleeves rolled, holding a wooden spoon like a weapon out of habit.
Behind her, Grandma Elira stepped into view like she’d been there the whole time and simply decided to be seen now. Her eyes flicked from my face to Keegan’s hand in mine to the blanket over my legs with the same quiet assessment she’d once used in the Academy.
Miora’s gaze sharpened.
“I heard a thump,” Miora said, voice light but eyes not light at all. “And then I heard the phrasePriestess’s compoundfloating through the air, which is not what I like to hear during my evening simmer.”
Elira’s attention landed on me fully.
“Maeve,” she said softly.
And the softness of it made my stomach drop again, because Elira didn’t soften unless something mattered.
Keegan’s thumb brushed over my knuckles once, anchoring me.
It was crazy to me, with everything I’d seen and been through since entering Stonewick, it was the pedestal that stole my breath away. The thought of standing in the shadows petrified me.
Miora took one step into the room, spoon still in hand, and sniffed the air like she could smell panic.
“You looked into the mirror,” she said, not a question.
I swallowed, and Elira’s gaze didn’t waver.
I nodded once, and the cottage seemed to hold its breath with us, the fire crackling like it was trying to pretend it hadn’t heard anything, and inside my chest my panic rose again—because now it wasn’t just mine.
Now it was shared.
Now it was real.
And I didn’t know which was worse.
Chapter Thirteen
Miora pressed the mug of tea into my hands as Elira stood near the hearth, hands loose at her waist, watching me with that calm, piercing look of hers. It always left me feeling exposed and steadied at the same time. She wasn't alarmed, and that bothered me more than if she had been.
"You looked," she said softly. “And didn’t like what you saw.”
“That’s an understatement,” I said, softly laughing, which surprised me. Maybe the shock was wearing off.
"The pedestal showedher," I said. "The Priestess. In a library."
Keegan's hand was still threaded through mine. He hadn't moved far from my side since we came up from the cellar, and I was happy about it. It’s not like he wasn't trying to fix anything or make promises. He was just there, and that’s all I needed.
