My jaw tightened as I looked at her. I hated how she could twist truth into something that felt wrong. “Careful.”
“There she is.” The Priestess lifted her cup and inhaled the steam. “The loyal headmistress. The defender of halls that will take everything you offer and still ask for more.”
“The Academy doesn’t take,” I said quickly.
“Doesn’t it?” She tipped her head. “Your grandmother gave it her life. You gave it your future. Your friends give it their loyalty and time…”
“For the greater good by a choice they made.”
“Are you certain Grandma Elira felt she truly had a choice? After all, she didn’t get to be there for her own son. How cruel.” She pursed her lips and blew the steam off the tea again.
I gripped the back of the chair in front of me. “You’ve not given any of us a choice. You’ve taunted, teased, stolen, and fought us when we’ve done nothing to you.”
“Nothing?” Her brows lifted.
“You took my daughter.” I studied her.
“Magic follows bloodlines whether mothers approve or not.” She set her teacup down. “You of all people should know that. My daughter tried to protect you from magic.”
“Wrong. My mother tried to protect me from YOU.”
My shadow mark warmed again, but it wasn’t burning me.
“You feel what I’m speaking of.”
I shook my head. “I feel many things. Most of them involve wanting to leave.”
“Shadowick is not your enemy.” She watched me. “I’m not your enemy.”
“The shadow pit, Malore, and masked fighters really muddied that message along the way.”
Her smile thinned. “Stonewick tells its stories beautifully. One gets to think about cozy streets, clever witches, wolves guarding the old lines, and goblins innocently making mischief in tunnels. Doesn’t that sound like a charming little village? It manages to convince everyone it is safe, possibly the victim of such evil places like Shadowick.”
“It represents safety to a lot of people.”
“And what was Shadowick before it was condemned?” Her voice softened. “Did anyone at your Academy teach you that?”
I didn’t answer because no one truly had, not really.
We had pieces. Curse. Division. Gideon. Wards. Old betrayals. The Academy locking itself away and Stonewick surviving in fragments.
But Shadowick itself?
We treated it like a wound no one dared to heal or look at.
The Priestess saw the hesitation, and satisfaction glimmered in her eyes.
“There it is. The first honest silence I’ve ever felt from you, Maeve.” She shook her head. “Seems like I’ve struck a nerve.”
“Don’t congratulate yourself too soon.”
“You have humor.” She sounded almost approving. “Your mother lost hers for a while. I think she thought she’d find it running away on cruise ships.”
I despised how much this woman knew about our lives.
“Don’t talk about my mom like you knew her.”
“Maeve, I know her better than you realize. She was frightened of her magic from the beginning. Always looking over her shoulder, always desperate to be ordinary, as if ordinary ever saved anyone from pain.” She rolled her eyes.
