My stomach dropped. “Good?”
“You’re seeing beneath the surface. That’s all I wanted.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “You wanted me to see fear?”
“I wanted you to see the consequence of actions.” She turned slightly, her dark gown whispering against the fog. “Come. Sinceyou’re so determined to explore, I’ll show you what Shadowick is through the eyes of a Priestess.”
I glanced at Barlen, but he still didn’t look at me.
“I thought Barlen was giving me the tour,” I countered.
“Barlen will continue to accompany us.” Her fingers brushed over his head again, and he flinched before stilling himself. “He is wonderfully motivated to behave.”
I despised her.
Truly.
My shadow mark warmed, and I immediately shoved the feeling down before it could bloom into something useful to her. It seemed to enjoy hatred. It reacted to force, fury, restraint, and power in ways that felt too eager.
I didn’t trust any magic that liked me angrier, but the Priestess began walking, and the shadows drifted with her, and so did I.
The street widened as we moved away from the boarded lanes and back toward a central road. Shops lined both sides, though few were open. A butcher’s sign swung above a locked door, and a seamstress stood behind a counter and pretended not to see us while her hands froze over a bolt of black fabric.
“You do enjoy cataloging.” Her brows raised.
“It passes the time.”
“It gives you the illusion of control.” She laughed. “It makes you think you’re doing something useful.”
“Sometimes an illusion is a good place to start. I like to do that to myself. You know, give myself hope when things are against the odds.”
That earned me another look. “And what odds are those?”
“Staying alive.”
She snickered as we passed a narrow square where a dry fountain sat in the center, smaller than the one I’d seen earlier. I spotted two women standing near a wall, talking in voices so low I couldn’t hear them. The moment they saw the Priestess, they bowed their heads and stepped apart.
The Priestess lifted one hand, gracious as a queen, but they remained frozen until she passed.
“Respect,” she said. “That’s what you’ll earn when you stay here.”
“Fear,” I corrected. “That’s not respect.”
“Sometimes they wear the same cloak.” She stopped and turned to look at me.
I squared my shoulders and drew a breath. “Only if someone terrible is dressing them.”
Barlen made a tiny choking sound.
The Priestess chuckled softly. “Careful, Barlen. She’s beginning to amuse me.”
He nodded quickly, too quickly.
But we continued through the square toward a row of buildings that looked slightly better cared for. The windows were clean. The doors freshly painted in muted shades of charcoal, navy, and deep green. Silver root symbols had been etched above every beam.
I saw people watching from inside, but no one came out.
“These are family homes,” the Priestess said. “Old lines. Loyal lines. Those who understood from the beginning that Shadowick must endure above all else.”
