Chapter 36
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
SELENE
Rain had passed through less than an hour earlier. The road still shone in broken strips beneath a pale morning sky, and the damp scent of wet earth drifted in through the cracked window of my car as I drove to work.
It had taken some time to convince myself this was the right move, but I’d realized hiding would do me no good.
My tires hissed softly over the drive as I turned at the large rock archway that marked the edge of Bren’s property and followed the narrow road toward the castle.
Beads of water clung to the hedges, and the trees along the lane looked darker than usual, their trunks blackened by moisture.
The lake beyond them flashed in fragments through the branches like torn silver.
I slowed when his house came into view.
The car he’d driven the night before sat in front, dark and still, exactly where I remembered it. The sight of it sent a pulse through me that had nothing to do with fear, and I tightened my hands on the wheel.
His truck was gone.
Which meant he was likely already at the castle. Standing in the great hall, perhaps. Calm and composed. Ready to discuss roofline concerns and stone stabilization as though the previous night had consisted of nothing notable.
Though that wasn’t true, was it? The previous night, when he’d been willing to talk about the creature, I’d been the one to refuse.
The castle rose ahead of me through the thinning mist. I pulled up next to no one and parked near the entrance. Bren’s truck wasn’t there, and neither were any that belonged to the construction crew.
I gazed up at the high windows, staring at the empty spaces. Was he avoiding me?
The thought arrived sharp and immediate, and then lost some of its edge just as quickly. I had watched him face something made of thorn and shadow with a blade formed from moonlight. Whatever Bren McLoughlin feared, it wasn’t me.
Cool air touched my face as I climbed out and shut the door. The stone steps were still damp beneath my boots as I crossed to the entrance and let myself inside.
The temperature shifted at once.
The great hall held the same cool pressure it always did, though it felt more noticeable this morning, perhaps because I no longer had much patience left for pretending it was old masonry and nothing more.
The hall smelled faintly of damp lime, dust, and stone that had gone too long without fire. My footsteps echoed once, and then softened as I moved farther in.
The circular inlay waited at the center of the room, and I swore I sensed its presence. My thoughts returned to my conversation with Nora and her claims that I was a ward witch.
In her kitchen, over coffee, the idea had seemed preposterous.
But standing near the heart of the castle, it was as if something inside me opened and left me with a thirst for knowledge. The idea seemed utterly impossible. But not more so than Bren creating a sword from moonlight.
I crossed to the inlay and stopped just outside its outer ring, staring down. I did have a way of reading spaces.
Yesterday I might have told myself I was only curious about the castle’s construction. About wear patterns and proportion and the odd sense of weight the center of it seemed to carry. All of that was part of my job.
But could there be more? Could there?
I studied the small pieces of stone that created the Celtic knot. They looked as they always had, with the larger diamond shape in the center considerably darker and worn smoother. The stones held no glow, no visible sign of anything unusual, but my gut told me there was more to it.
I set my bag aside and crouched, resting my fingertips lightly against the outer edge. A faint vibration moved through the stone, steady this time, and I inhaled a quick breath.
It was small. Barely more than a pulse. Just enough to travel into my hand and vanish, leaving me to wonder once again if I’d imagined it.
I held still and whispered. “Do you sense that I’m here?”
The pulse came again, and I startled.
The silence rushed back in around me, and I cursed. Gods, if I’m going to do this, I can’t be afraid.
I inhaled a calming breath and pressed my fingers to the same place again. “Hello?”
The stone sent a softer vibration this time, and I had my answer. The inlay had not reacted randomly. It had reacted to me.
I sat back on my heels and stared at the intricate design, my heart rate climbing with excitement.
For one stupid second, I considered old explanations.
It might have been only my nerves, or my imagination, sharpened by lack of sleep and the memory of moonlight moving where moonlight should not have moved.
I let that go.
The castle had reacted to me before when the floor had shifted. I’d felt the air tightening, and the inlay had hummed beneath the stone. I’d also watched the heavens rupture and a creature step through. At some point, I would have to accept the truth.
I rose slowly.
“All right, then,” I murmured to the empty hall. “I sense you. I’m here to help you, and I hope we can be friends.”
I swore an echo of something faint danced in the air with the falling dust motes.
A ward witch, huh?
If that was true, if I could physically affect spaces, then I should be able to move something. In the back of my mind, I knew what I was about to attempt was beyond ridiculous. But no one else was in the castle, and I couldn’t think of a better place to test Maeve’s and Nora’s claims.
I stood and turned my gaze toward a loose fragment of stone I’d set aside near the western wall two days earlier. The broken edge of decorative trim was hardly heavier than a brick, and it seemed like a good test subject.
I had no idea how one went about summoning magic, but I focused my attention on a single space in the center of my mind. Then I held out a hand over the stone, asking it to move.
Nothing happened.
Of course, nothing happened.
Because deep down I had known it would not. Whenever anything strange occurred around me, it came with a feeling that something was wrong first.
“So that was dignified,” I muttered.
I straightened and looked again toward the center of the hall.
Perhaps the castle affected me more than I realized. Perhaps trying to force a result inside a place already humming with its own impossible history was pointless. Outside, at least, the air might feel more neutral.
I left my bag and headed back through the doors.
The sky had brightened further while I’d been inside. Low clouds had broken apart, leaving pale strips of blue over the lake. The damp grass near the edge bent beneath a fresh breeze, and water moved in a quiet, steady rhythm against the shore.
I walked toward the lake with no real plan except creating distance.
A line of stones bordered part of the slope where the ground neared the water. One sat slightly apart from the others, broad and flat, half sunk into the earth. I stopped beside it and looked around to make sure no one was watching.
Then I crouched, braced both hands against the damp surface on either side of the rock, and tried to move it with my thoughts.
It did not budge.
I sat back and softly huffed. “Excellent. Now I’m wrestling landscaping.”
The breeze carried my words away and brought with it the sound of footsteps behind me. A quick strike of awareness hit low in my chest, followed by the sense that he watched me.
I knew who approached before I turned.