Chapter 19
The open stone hearth was tiny but gave off enough heat to warm the rest of Kathleen Geier’s house.
She lived in a cozy, one-room shelter made of dried mud and stone.
We had to be miles from civilization, so I assumed this was a repurposed hunting cabin; otherwise, it was hard to believe she’d built this place herself.
Kathleen was almost as short as me but seemed very strong, which was probably how she’d survived so many years out here by herself. It also hadn’t escaped my notice that, upon our arrival, she had no problem pushing around a large, cast iron cauldron without breaking a sweat.
Miles sat beside me on the packed dirt floor, sharing his body heat with me even though we’d been given two quilts. While we warmed, Kathleen continued to busy herself at the fire.
“Kathleen,” he said, looking over the navy mug she’d handed him, cautious wonderment barely concealed in his voice and posture as he asked, “Did you do all this yourself?”
She’d tied her white hair into a loose bun on her head, and her black dress brushed across her legs as she turned to him.
I was trying to stay open-minded, as Miles was quite sensitive on this topic, but I still couldn’t help but see the correlation between her and every fictional witch I’d ever seen on television.
Despite her innocent eyes, she gave off evil witch vibes.
Miles and I had lost our trail, got lost in the woods, and stumbled upon a witch’s cabin. Now, she was going to feed us.
Damen had said fairy tales had roots in reality. Only a fool couldn’t see how this would end.
Besides, it wasn’t like I was assuming anything unusual. The woman was a powerful witch. Before Miles’s questions, she’d even been stirring her cauldron, throwing random herbs in there.
Was she working on a spell? What was she going to do to us? If she was related to my adoptive parents in any way, she couldn’t be trusted.
“Of course not.” She frowned at him. “Use your brain.”
Miles’s face turned pink, and he sipped his tea. “I do…”
“You don’t even recognize this potion, do you?” She waved her wooden spoon at him.
“Should I?” He glanced toward the cauldron.
“Oh well.” She sighed. “It’s probably better if you don’t. You wouldn’t believe me even if I explained it to you.”
Yeah, she was up to something. She had that look about her. Someone in this room was going to die.
I was squishy in the middle and didn’t have much muscle. I’d taste terrible. So that left only Miles—and the dude was built. This was precisely why working out and getting buff was detrimental to your health.
Why wasn’t he more concerned about this?
“In any case,” Kathleen continued, closing a lid over her steaming creation, “you need to graduate soon.”
Miles flushed and pointedly looked away from me. “I’m working on it—”
“I don’t know what Jonathon is up to, letting you wander about untrained, but he’s bordering on negligence,” she said. “He is your Paragon Er Bashou. He knows better.”
“You ran away entirely,” Miles muttered. “Plus, he’s been somewhat busy.”
She paused and glanced at me. “I see that,” she crossed her arms. “Care to explain why my son’s invested so much energy into you?”
“W-what?” It was my turn to hide behind my drink. “I don’t know?”
“Kathleen,” Miles cut in, leaning forward between us. “Jonathon and Abigail adopted Bianca ten years ago. They retired.”
“We can’t retire,” she said, disapproving. “It is a lifetime commitment. We can only be displaced if a Xing strips us of our position.”
“What commitment? You still ran away,” Miles repeated. I bit my lip at his sharp expression.
He was actually mad at her.
Kathleen frowned at him before she pulled her beige shawl over her shoulders and limped to a chair. Besides a small table and a bed that was only big enough for one person, the room held no other furnishings: only jars—so many jars!—and dried herbs hanging from the rafters.
“I had my reasons,” she replied, leaning back into her seat.
“But be assured I’ve never not been one for the cause.
Jonathon, too, would never abandon his place.
There’s a logic behind everything he does.
” Her attention moved to me. “Especially if he went so far as to cover Mu with protective magic and cloaking spells.”
Miles tensed and sucked in a breath. “You can tell who she is?”
“It took me a little while, I will admit.” She rolled her shoulders. “But, as good as he is, he’s cared too much about his curses to learn the gentler side of our craft.”
“C-curses?” I wasn’t going to ask, but I couldn’t resist.
“Jonathon’s specialty is in creating—and breaking—curses,” Kathleen glanced at me. “There is no one better than him.”
I frowned at Miles. The Cole family had almost killed me with a curse, and then there was that ring that’d gotten everyone all up in a tizzy, and nobody thought to mention that there might be a very real reason for wanting to involve my adoptive father.
Heck, I would have gladly conceded to his expertise in that situation!
“Don’t look at me like that!” Miles stammered, leaning away from me. “He’s already lectured me, okay?”
Kathleen sighed. “You’re still scared of him, are you?”
“I—” Miles’s face turned red as he stammered. “I’m not scared of him!”
“You should be,” she replied, pulling her mug into her lap. “He’s far stronger than you are right now. Have any of you completed your training yet?”
“We—we’re taking a break!” Miles exclaimed. “Plus, not everyone knows who Bianca is yet. We can’t go to the Council. You know what will happen.”
Kathleen made a sound of understanding. “The prophecy.” She touched her chest and twisted a silver chain in her fingers. Her gaze was distant, as if deep in recollection, and she didn’t seem aware of her actions.
“That was why she was hidden at birth,” Miles explained. “Bailey was a ruse. The fae were afraid of what would happen.”
She let out a soft laugh. At first, I wondered what was so funny. But then she squared her shoulders and sat forward, leveling a wizened and serious look at us. “You’ll learn, as I have, that you can’t stop a prophecy from coming true no matter what precautionary measures you’ve put into place.”
“Damen doesn’t think it’s a real prophecy,” Miles said.
“It’s real,” she interrupted. “But he’d never admit it to you. You know Huo is relentlessly optimistic, but he’s not stupid. Are you Titus’s mate?”
The last bit was directed to me, but I couldn’t answer—
Damen said the prophecy was wrong. He’d sounded so sure. But now Kathleen was saying that wasn’t the case.
It said that we would have a baby .
I wasn’t sure about that. I could barely function now —romantic entanglements only added more complexity.
Besides, it still might not be possible.
Miles reached for me, squeezing my hand, and answered in my stead. “She is.”
She tsked. “Let me give you some advice. Most onmyoji lack attention to detail—they are big-picture personalities. Whatever you do, don’t allow the fear of some prophecy to stop you from living. You’ll learn that such things unfolding are usually greatly different than imagined.”
Tension radiated from Miles as he asked, “Do you have a lot of experience with prophecies?”
“Some.” Her reply was short, and her eyes guarded. “Let’s just say I’ve become somewhat of an expert in the last twenty-four hours. Where did Abigail find you?” she asked abruptly, once again trying to pull me into the conversation.
But my mouth went dry, and I couldn’t answer. Whenever she turned her attention to me, I felt like a cornered animal.
“I-in a foster home,” I began, so softly that I could scarcely hear myself. “While she was working.”
“I see,” Kathleen replied. “She has always focused on uncovering the uglier side of human nature.”
“Not anymore,” Miles jumped in. He held me to him, keeping me steady, adding, “She retired after adopting Bianca. That’s when Jonathon and Abigail stepped back from their duties.”
“That makes more sense,” Kathleen observed, her tone practical but kind. “But I doubt they’re as removed as you believe.”
My stomach twisted. Even now, my past not only affected me but also inconvenienced everyone else around me. “I—I just don’t know why they bothered,” I admitted. “I don’t think they like me.”
Miles dropped his arm from my shoulders and leaned away, staring at me. “What?”
“Don’t be daft,” Kathleen interrupted Miles before he could speak further. “Abigail was upholding her promise—one she made willingly. She had the right and the responsibility to intervene. She never would have abandoned you.”
“W-what do you mean?” I sucked in a breath, the weight of her words settling heavily on me.
“She’s your godmother,” Kathleen said, her frown deepening.
I bit my lip and looked away. “I know,” I admitted. “Damen told me.”
“Really?” Miles cut in. He looked surprised, his eyebrows arching slightly. “I… I didn’t know that.”
“She made a vow to protect you,” Kathleen said to me.
“It isn’t a role to be taken lightly, especially not among our kind.
The Stephens and Dubois families have a lot of power,” she continued, her tone carrying a note of caution.
“They are nobility among the fae. Bringing your story into the open might have caused a war within this realm—especially if you were still a child. Abigail knew that. She chose a quieter, safer route to protect you. That would be a reason for my son’s spellwork. ”
“That’s what Gregory was told,” Miles agreed, the lines of his face relaxing slightly as he glanced at me. “Still, not everyone knows of her yet—we’re waiting until she’s ready.” The corner of his lip curled up when he said this last bit, and my skin flushed as a warmth spread through my chest.
I wasn’t sure I’d ever be ready. To face my past—or to confront my origins.
“And that’s sensible,” Kathleen replied, her tone matter-of-fact. “But it’s not a sustainable long-term plan. Especially if Gregory is involved, he’s got quite the temper.”
Dr. Stephens did?