For the first time since I’d stepped inside Shadowick, I saw the flaw in her power.
On some level, she needed me to be willing.
The stones, the Academy, whatever ancient energy lived beneath all of this, it required more than force. It demanded consent and choice. The very thing she despised.
Oh, the irony.
I slid my hand into my pocket and touched the tiny wad of paper Barlen had given me.
I had help when the time was right.
The Priestess watched my movement, and her eyes focused.
“What did he give you?” she asked.
Barlen froze.
Shoot.
I smiled before I could talk myself out of it and answered simply.
“Hope.”
The shadows behind her erupted upward, swallowing the ceiling in a rush of black movement, and the windows behind her burst open with a scream of wind. Cold air whipped through the study, scattering papers from her desk and sending the teacup crashing to the floor.
The sky beyond the window churned dark and silver.
Waiting.
Just like the note had promised…
It wasn’t merely my Stonewick family.
The Priestess took one slow step toward me, fury burning through every elegant line of her face.
“Maeve,” she warned.
I curled my fingers around the paper in my pocket and felt my birthmark answer with a sharp, bright pulse as the sensation moved up to the shadow mark and joined as one.
My gaze moved up to hers, and I smiled.
Maybe she should have put me in the dungeon when she had the chance.
Because now I knew the truth.
She wasn’t the only one Shadowick was listening to.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
The stars canvassed the sky as I stood in my room and looked out the window. My friends were out there somewhere, waiting.
And so were the shadows.
But for what?
If those Academy doors opened again, and I wasn’t here, I wasn’t sure what could happen or how the Priestess could grow even more powerful.
It made the idea of her taking over Stonewick even more plausible.
