Laughter rose near the far table where Stella was holding court, her shawl draped dramatically as she poured tea and told some story that had Bella leaning in with a grin and Ardetia watching with that calm, observant expression she rarely let slip.
Nova stood just behind them, her green eyes scanning the room in a way that looked casual to anyone who didn’t know her, but I did, and I knew she was tracking every shift, every whisper, every flicker of magic that didn’t quite sit right.
“We did this,” I said quietly, more to myself than anyone.
Keegan’s gaze followed mine. “You did.”
I shook my head slightly. “We did.”
Twobble swallowed and nodded. “Yes, well, mostly me.”
“Of course,” I said dryly.
My dad nudged my shoulder. “It looks good, Maeve. Really good.”
“It has to be,” I said, though the words didn’t carry the confidence they should have. “Because everything else feels like it’s waiting to fall apart.”
The shift in my tone didn’t go unnoticed.
Lainsley’s posture straightened just slightly. “We’ve heard some of the rumors,” she said carefully. “About Shadowick. About the Priestess.”
Petrah’s gaze softened, though there was a sharpness beneath it. “Rumors have a way of growing when they’re left alone.”
Lemonia nodded. “And when information is scarce.”
I pressed my lips together, glancing toward Keegan before looking back at them, weighing what to say and how much to say in a room that was supposed to feel welcoming, steady, and safe.
“We’re handling it,” I said finally, keeping my voice even. “But there are… developments.”
Twobble cleared his throat, suddenly far less interested in the pastries. “That’s one way to put it.”
Keegan stepped in before the conversation could spiral. “The Priestess is moving pieces. That’s all anyone needs to know for now.”
Petrah’s fingers brushed lightly against the edge of the table, her expression thoughtful. “Movement suggests intention.”
“It does,” I agreed quietly.
“And the dungeons?” Lainsley asked, her voice low enough that it didn’t carry beyond our small circle. “Is it true?”
My stomach tightened at the word, the image rising uninvited, heavy and cold.
“They’re being prepared,” I said, not looking away this time. “We don’t know how quickly things will shift. But we know enough.”
Lemonia exhaled softly. “Then time is not on our side.”
“No,” I said. “It isn’t.”
For a moment, the noise of the room seemed to dull around us, like the world had taken a step back to give space to what we were saying.
Keegan’s hand brushed mine again, not grabbing, not pulling, just there, steady, reminding me I wasn’t carrying this alone even when it felt like I was.
“And Gideon?” Petrah asked, her gaze flicking briefly toward Keegan.
“Gone.”
Twobble huffed. “Vanished. Disappeared. Pulled one of his signature exits.”
“Did he leave any indication of where he might go?” Lainsley asked.
