"Wait," Asher sets down the popcorn bowl, "you sold us on a legendary forge that can save the day, but you don't know where it is?"
"I know it exists," Mica says defensively. "The records are fragmented, but there are too many references across too many traditions for it to be purely mythological. Metal witches have been searching for it for generations."
"So, we're joining a centuries-old supernatural treasure hunt?" Orion asks.
"Arrr, matey's." Asher cups his hand over one eye. "Me thinks this be the sort of quest where the treasure’s imaginary and the punishment is very real—and pointy."
I scratch behind Somebuddy's ears, my mind racing. "He's not wrong. If metal witches have been searching for generations, what makes you think we can find it?"
Mica meets my gaze. "Because you have something they didn't—me."
We're still debating whether we're more likely to come up empty-handed or be killed when the doorbell chimes again. Somebuddy launches from my lap, yapping like he's raising a full-scale alarm. Nobuddy jolts from his nap and joins the clarion call.
"Wow, we’re popular tonight," Asher mutters, extricating himself from his chair.
But before he gets anywhere, Sebastian steps into the doorway. His black hair is disheveled and spiked up at odd angles as if he's been running his hands through it. And his bright blue eyes—so disconcertingly similar to mine—look haunted.
"Sorry to interrupt." His gaze sweeps the room and lands on Rowan. "I need to talk to you."
Rowan's shadows curl tighter around her fingers. "Why? What about?"
He scans the group and then shifts his gaze back to her. "Do you want to talk privately?"
"Not really, no. If it's bad news—and judging by the vibes you're throwing off, it is—I'd rather hear it with my friends."
"All right. An hour ago, I was contacted by the Thornhill Coven elders." Sebastian's voice is flat, stripped of its usual chaotic energy. "They want you home and have requested that I portal you back tonight, or they will be sending an envoy into Emberwood territory tomorrow."
Rowan stands, and the temperature in the room drops several degrees. "No. They can't just summon me like I'm some wayward child."
"They can, actually." Sebastian looks miserable. "You're still under their coven's jurisdiction. They have every right?—"
"I don't care about their rights. What aboutmine?" The shadows around Rowan coalesce into sharp, blade-like tendrils. "I finally found somewhere I fit. Somewhere I'm not just the troublemaker from the cursecraft family. I'musefulhere."
My chest tightens watching her unravel. I stand, careful not to spook her when her magic is this agitated.
Sebastian runs a hand over his face. "Trust me, kid, I get it. But Poppy's dealing with enough scrutiny from other covens right now. Laurel has stirred up trouble, and if Thornhill thinks Poppy is harboring?—"
"Harboring?" Rowan's voice cracks. "I'm not a fugitive."
"That's not what I meant." Sebastian's shoulders sag. "Look, just go home. Talk to your parents. Show them you're fine, that you're not being corrupted by dark magic or whatever storythey're envisioning. Then, once everyone has calmed down, you can revisit the idea of coming back."
"But what if they won't let me come back?"
Clara stands hesitantly. "My mother works with Thornhill sometimes. If you need someone to vouch?—"
"It won't matter." Rowan's words are bitter. "My family's looking for an excuse to rein me in. Once I'm inside the compound, I'll be stuck."
I cross the room to go to her, ignoring the warning look Wylder shoots me. "Hey… girlfriend."
She won't meet my gaze.
"Rowan, look at me."
Those gray and amethyst eyes finally lift, and they're glossy with unshed tears.
"If you want to stay and fight for your freedom, that's what we do. Let Thornhill send its envoys. We'll stand by you. I mean it. In light of what happened to me and my sisters, I won't let anyone get shipped off against their will.”
But the moment I make the offer, I see that Rowan has already given up the fight.
