“You’re proving my point,” I said.
“Am I?”
“You don’t want unity. You want access.” I leaned forward slightly. “To Stonewick. To the Academy. To the stone. To me.”
Her eyes darkened at the last words, and I knew I’d hit closer than she wanted.
“I want what should have always been mine,” she said.
“And there we have it.”
The shadows along the baseboards stirred at my tone, creeping and curling with a slow, watchful interest. I felt them before I let myself look at them.
I was tethered to Stonewick, the Academy, and to the people waiting to come to my rescue, not the shadows.
The Priestess’ gaze followed mine toward the floor. “They like you.”
Barlen, who had been lingering near the bookshelves with a tray in hand, went completely still. Even the fire seemed to pull back into itself, the flames shrinking low and blue at the edges.
“They’re probably relieved there isn’t another tyrant in the room.”
The Priestess didn’t move.
“Tyrant,” she repeated.
“You imprison people,” I said. “You bend magic until it breaks. You call control a vision and fear loyalty. So, yes. Tyrant seems like a reasonable word choice.”
Her hand slowly slid from the arm of the chair to the top of the desk, and I watched the wood beneath her palm blacken. It didn’t burn, but it was like every bit of life inside the grain had been drained away in a swipe.
Barlen’s face had gone pale enough that I wondered if he was about to either pass out or politely excuse himself from existence.
“Careful, Maeve,” the Priestess said.
I heard Keegan’s voice in my head then, low and rough and probably annoyed.
Don’t push her too far.
Which was excellent advice.
“You asked for honesty,” I reminded her.
Her eyes flashed, and for the first time, the polished mask slipped completely. Fury sharpened every line of her face, transforming her from an elegant ruler playing at diplomacy into something far older and far less human.
I stayed still, but it wasn’t because I was brave.
Instead, I felt the strangest thing.
The shadows weren’t hurting me.
They were testing.
And the Priestess saw it too.
Her anger flickered with surprise, and that gave me one small, dangerous thread of satisfaction.
“You feel it,” she said.
“I feel a lot of things,” I replied, trying to keep my voice from shaking. “Most of them are unpleasant.”
