Chapter 30 Locke
Locke
The community hall is packed.
Every seat taken. People standing along the walls. More in the doorway. I can see Cal’s cluster near the back. Jonah by the kitchen entrance. Mara behind the counter like she’s running a different kind of service this morning.
Minerva is at the front. Standing. Not sitting. Brent beside her.
We file in together. All seven of us. Nova is between me and Vaelor and I can feel the tension in the room shift when she walks through the door. Not outwardly hostile, but enough stares that my guard is up.
The mothers are in the second row. Darcy has her kid on her hip. Mel and Sade are beside her. Their faces are tight.
We find spots along the side wall. Standing. I keep my arms crossed because it’s either that or fist them and I’d rather not set the tone.
Minerva doesn’t waste time.
“Last night, fifteen Memory patrol bears approached the Hollow from the north. They were intercepted and turned back. No casualties on either side.”
Murmurs. Someone in the back says something I don’t catch.
“This is not the first time patrols have found us,” Minerva continues. “It happens roughly twice a year. The forest shifters manage most incursions before they reach the town. Last night was larger than usual, which is why it reached the tree line.”
“Larger because of her,” Darcy says. Not loud. But clear enough that the room hears it.
Nova doesn’t react. I watch her face stay neutral and I know it costs her. Not that she’d ever admit it.
“Larger because the Order is mobilizing generally,” Minerva corrects. “The Academy has been locked down for weeks. All Houses are running expanded patrols. This is not specific to Nova’s arrival — it’s a system-wide escalation.”
“But they wouldn’t be looking this hard if—”
“They’ve been looking this hard for years, Darcy. Long before Nova set foot in this town.” Minerva’s voice is steel. “We’ve managed it before. We’ll manage it again.”
“How?”
Minerva pauses. Glances at Brent.
“I’ve been working on something for the town’s defenses,” she says. “An arrangement with the Clockwork Order.”
The room goes quiet. I don’t know what that is. From the faces around me, nobody else does either.
“They’re old,” Minerva says. “Older than the Houses. Fae-descended. They operate on the other side of the realm — most people don’t even know they exist. But they have technology we don’t.
Defensive systems. Detection barriers. Things that would make the Hollow significantly harder to find.
” She pauses. “I’ve been in communication with their leadership for several months.
The equipment is coming — I don’t know exactly when, but it’s coming. ”
More murmurs. Questions start overlapping. People talking over each other. The energy in the room is shifting from scared to argumentative.
“Why should we have to fight at all—”
“Nobody said fight, we said—”
“Her cluster brought this to our door—”
“The patrols were already—”
“My kids were outside when the bears—”
Minerva raises a hand. The room starts to quiet. She opens her mouth.
Nova steps forward.
I can already tell she didn’t plan on it. She just moves from where she was leaning against the wall and the room turns to her because she’s the thing everyone’s been talking around and now she’s on her feet.
Minerva closes her mouth. Watches.
“From what I’ve seen of this community so far,” Nova says, “you treat everyone like they belong.”
The room is quiet. Not silent — you can hear breathing, a kid fussing somewhere — but the arguing stops.
“I spent a lot of time out of the system, feeling like I didn’t belong anywhere. When I was forced to the Academy, the only people I felt like I fit in with were the guys in my cluster.” She pauses. “And Trey.”
Trey, leaning against the wall behind her, goes still.
“And I realized something. That it isn’t about where you are.
It’s about the people you’re with.” She looks around the room.
At the faces. At the mothers. At the kids.
At the people who’ve been here for years and the ones who arrived last month.
“And the truth is, this town is amazing. You all have been amazing. And welcoming. And I understand that you’re scared. ”
She takes a breath.
“We all are. I definitely am.”
Something shifts in the room. Not agreement exactly. But people are actually listening now.
“But that doesn’t mean you don’t fight for your town. For the people you love. For what’s right.” Her voice steadies. “And right now the town needs us to fight and be smart about it.”
She steps back and leans against the wall again. Like it was nothing. Like she didn’t just change the temperature of the entire room.
Darcy is looking at her. The kid on her hip is chewing on his own fist. Mel and Sade exchange a glance.
Nobody argues.
Minerva is watching Nova with an expression I’ve only seen once — last night when she said “It’s starting.” Like she’s watching a seed she planted almost thirty years ago finally break the surface.
She doesn’t say a word. She doesn’t have to.
The meeting continues. Logistics. Patrol rotations. Communication protocols. Brent walks through the plan with the efficiency of a man who’s done this before. Jonah assigns teams. Cal volunteers his cluster for night watch.
I barely hear any of it.
Because I’m watching Nova. Sitting leaning against the wall with her hands clasped, still a little flushed from standing up in front of a hundred people. The crow is on the windowsill behind her. The mark on her wrist is catching the light.
Phoenix or not, Nova is the fiercest woman I’ve ever met.
And I’m proud to be standing by her side.