She clasped her hands together and gave an overly dramatic sigh. “Shadowick and Stonewick reunited.”
The words hung in the air, and for a heartbeat, I almost didn’t understand them. She wanted these two villages to get along? Repair the damage? Could it be that simple?
But our eyes met, and that was when I realized I had it all wrong.
My throat became dry, and I cleared my throat. “You want to merge them?”
“I want to correct what fear and arrogance split apart.” Darkness filled her gaze. “Stonewick always thought it was better than us, alwaysknewbetter than us.” She shook her head, studying me. “But Stonewick is no better than Shadowick.”
“You feed off darkness,” I said quietly. “And fear, anger, and…”
Her hand flew up in the air, and it looked as if she wanted to use her magic on me. “And what precisely do you think Stonewick grows from?” Her head tilted. “How do you think your Wards get energy?”
“Not by frightening or controlling people,” I told her as I thought of Stella’s tea shop, the Academy halls, Twobble stealing pastries, Keegan’s inn, the Butterfly Ward humming under sunlight, and Celeste laughing in a place that felt safe enough to breathe.
“You’re so naïve,” she said, laughing.
“I want to return Shadowick to its whole self.” Her voice grew softer, and somehow that made it worse. “Stonewick shines because Shadowick bears what it cast away. Every pleasant tea shop, every glowing Ward, every cozy little cottage exists because this place was forced to become the cellar where all unpleasantness was stored.” She shrugged. “I’ve simply used it to our advantage.”
“You’re wrong.” I shook my head. “You’ve used it toyouradvantage, not the people’s.”
“Am I?” She stepped closer, the shadows in the corners stretching with her. “Ask yourself why the Academy closed. Ask yourself why your grandmother remained trapped in its walls. The Academy didn’t take from her?” She laughed callously.
“It’s not the same.” I squared my shoulders.
“Is it not? Have you ever questioned why Gideon’s curse held so long? Did you ever wonder why the Wards sometimes faltered?”
The mark along my body pulsed again as I listened, learned.
“You’re twisting pieces of truth,” I said. “And that doesn’t make for accuracy.”
The Priestess smiled faintly. “You are sharper than your mother.”
“Stop comparing me to her.” I felt the pebbles in my pocket vibrate, and I dropped my gaze.
“Why? Does it bother you?” She eyed me suspiciously. “Do you resent her?”
“No.”
Her eyes found mine. “You do resent her… for keeping the magic from you.”
She struck a nerve.
“Yes.” I nodded. “Possibly.”
“Good. Feeling bothered means there is something alive underneath all that Stonewick politeness. I was beginning to worry your façade would never crack.”
A bitter laugh escaped me before I could stop it. “You think it’s a façade that I’m polite? It’s not that I’m polite. I’m merely kind.”
“I think you’ve been trained well.” Her gaze moved over me, assessing. “You’ve learned how to soften yourself, to apologize for your instincts, to wrap power in kindness so no one grows uncomfortable. And I think we have your ex to thank for that. But Shadowick would never ask that of you. We understand what strength means, and it isn’t hiding our true selves.”
“Stonewick has never asked me to hide my true self, and I would never want to align with a place that imprisons someone over baked goods.”
Legner made a small sound from his cell. Maybe a laugh. Maybe something sadder.
The Priestess did not look at him.
“He challenged order during a fragile time.”
