Chapter Twenty Three
“I can feel your mom’s presence,” Keegan shouted as Gideon's gaze snapped to him.
“Can we be sure?” I asked.
Keegan's hands moved along a stone wall as Gideon went up next to him.
“We don't have long before the room shifts again,” Gideon confirmed.
“Don't move,” Keegan told me as I moved toward where my daughter had just been.
Unfortunately, my daughter’s fingers had been inches from mine before the darkness dropped through the chamber and swallowed the moon door whole. Her panic still rang through me, trapped somewhere between my chest and my throat.
“This is absolutely horrid,” Twobble said softly, pacing between Keegan and Gideon.
Every single instinct I had as a mother shoved me forward before common sense could get a word in.
“Maeve,” Keegan warned.
“I heard you,” I said, though I didn’t stop.
“That’s historically not the same thing as listening,” Twobble muttered from somewhere behind me.
The chamber groaned around us, the six doors trembling in their frames as the darkness overhead churned like it had weight.
The masked fighters had fallen back for the moment, caught in my thorned vines and Twobble’s goblin powder, but their bodies twitched unnaturally beneath the bindings.
Whatever lived inside them wasn’t done trying to get loose.
Keegan’s focus stayed on the stone wall where he’d caught my mother’s presence, his fingers pressing along the stones as though he could claw a door into existence through pure will.
Gideon stood beside him, his face pale from whatever magic he’d used on the moon door.
“She moved your mother closer to the foundation level.”
“How can you tell?” Keegan asked Gideon.
Gideon’s jaw tightened. “I can feel her…”
“Feel her what?” My stomach twisted, but I kept moving toward the place where the moon door had been.
“Fear.”
Anger flashed through me. “You can sense fear?”
“I’m not proud of it, but it’s part of shadow magic.” Gideon turned to look at me. “Shadows tend to feed off it.”
“The more I find out about you, the less I like,” Twobble said, stopping to stare at the mage.
Keegan’s lips twitched as my hand ran along the door and stone where Celeste had once been, where only a stretch of blank wall remained.
Behind me, Keegan grunted as stone scraped against stone. Gideon whispered words I didn’t recognize, and blue light spread beneath his hands in jagged lines that reminded me too much of the magic in the tower windows.
Twobble came up beside me, his little face unusually serious as he stared at the crack.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“I can feel my daughter.” I turned toward a narrow crack in the stone I hadn’t noticed before. It ran from floor to ceiling, thin as a thread, and a cold breeze slipped through it.
The pendant warmed until the moonstone's heat pressed through my skin. The silver thread Stella had tied to it lifted again, but instead of pointing toward Keegan or Gideon, it floated toward the crack.
Toward my daughter.
I glanced back to see Twobble squatting near the wall where Keegan and Gideon had managed to open a narrow seam in the opposite wall. A soft yellow glow spilled through, and with it came the unmistakable sound of someone breathing hard, like they’d been trapped too long in darkness.
My mother.
For a moment, my entire body split between the two sounds, but the chamber shifted under my feet, and the choice made itself.
“Twobble,” I whispered.
His ears dipped. “No.”
“You don’t even know what I’m going to say,” I whispered.
“I know your face.” He shrugged.
“Stay with them.”
“Absolutely not.”
“If they get my mom out, and I’m gone, they’ll need you to tell them where I went.”
“You should tell them now.”
I shook my head and whispered. “They’ll try to stop me.”
He stared at me, horrified. “This is the worst assignment I’ve ever been given.”
“I’m not giving it to you because I like it.”
His throat bobbed, and for a second, the goblin who always had jokes and crumbs and a suspicious emergency pastry in his pocket looked small in a way I couldn’t stand.
“Maeve,” he said quietly. “Keegan will lose his mind.”
“I know.” My eyes remained on Twobble’s.
“And I’ll have to witness it.” He shook his head. “In fact, I might be the target of it.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re not.” He smirked.
The crack widened half an inch with a soft sigh, and a sliver of darkness appeared beyond it, and my pendant flared.
I pressed both hands to the stone and whispered the only spell that came to me.
“Open what is hidden. Bend what is sealed. By hedge and root, let the truth be revealed.”
For a second, nothing happened, and when my heart fell in disappointment, the wall softened beneath my palms.
A passage opened just wide enough for me to squeeze through. I glanced at Keegan and Gideon, working away on the other wall, and the shadows tied into themselves.
Twobble grabbed my sleeve. “Maeve.”
I looked down at him as his eyes shone with fear.
“Tell Keegan I’m sorry,” I said.
“Tell him yourself.”
I slipped through before he could stop me, and the passage closed with nothing more than a whisper.
The chamber disappeared behind me, and so did the sounds of Keegan and Gideon prying open the wall.
I was alone.
The corridor ahead curved downward through darkness, though faint silver moss clung to the lower stones and gave off just enough light to keep me from breaking my neck. It wasn’t like Goblin gold. Here, it was something different. The air smelled damp and old.
I pressed a hand to the pendant as the moonstone stayed warm.
That had to mean something.
Right?
I walked forward, straining for the sound of my daughter’s voice.
“Celeste?” My whisper traveled strangely ahead.
…Este.
Este.
Este.
I shivered and kept moving as the passage narrowed quickly, forcing my shoulders to brush the walls. Symbols had been carved into the stone at uneven intervals, some old and shallow.
The corridor bent again, but this time the stone changed with it.
The walls softened into places I knew too well.
Floral wallpaper peeled beside a crooked coat rack from our old house.
A row of framed school photos hung slightly uneven, exactly the way I used to leave them, no matter how many times Alex straightened them.
My stomach tightened.
A child’s drawing had been pinned crookedly to the wall beside a flickering lamp. Purple crayon. Wings. Far too many legs.
Celeste.
I stopped breathing for half a second.
The tower noticed.
Warm air drifted through the corridor, and I could almost see her racing barefoot through the hallway at eight years old, laughing because she’d glued sequins to the dog.
The familiar cruelty of it settled beneath my ribs.
“Mom?” The voice floated softly somewhere ahead of me.
My feet instinctively moved before my mind caught up. Every piece of me reached for her.
Then the pendant against my chest turned icy.
I froze.
Another voice slipped through the hall, shorter this time.
“Mommy?”
Pain hit me so hard I had to brace myself against the wall. The stone beneath my palm pulsed once, almost pleased with itself.
“No,” I whispered roughly. “You don’t get to use her.”
A laugh moved through the tower.
Not Gideon.
Not the Priestess.
The place itself.
The hallway shifted around me with a low groan, memories pressing closer. My mother’s voice drifted from somewhere behind me now. Alex snapped something at me from another corner of the corridor.
But underneath all of it, quieter than the rest, came a sound I almost missed.
The tapping.
My head jerked up as the rhythm came again, faint and steady somewhere deeper in the tower.
I closed my eyes for one steadying breath and followed the sound.
The corridor reacted instantly. The wallpaper darkened. The lights flickered. Picture frames rattled against the walls hard enough to crack glass as whispers rose around me in overlapping waves.
Mom, please.
Every word reached for something tender inside me, trying to hook itself there and pull, but I kept moving.
Because for the first time since entering the compound, something ahead of me felt real.
The hallway ended at a stone archway covered in vines that had long ago died but refused to fall away. Beyond it was a small circular room lit by moonlight that shouldn’t have been able to reach this deep into the compound.
In the center of the room sat an empty chair, and my stomach dropped.
There was no sign of Celeste, except the faint taps as I stumbled forward and dropped to my knees beside it.
“Celeste,” I whispered.
A piece of fabric had been caught on a splinter of wood beneath the seat. I pulled it free and recognized the soft blue thread from the hem of her jacket.
She’d been here.
The pendant pulsed again, sharper this time, reminding me to hold onto my magic.
My meaning of magic.
Hope spread through me as a sound came from the wall behind the chair.
Short.
Short.
Long.
I stood so fast the room spun around me.
“Celeste?”
The tapping came again.
Short.
Short.
Long.
I pressed my ear to the wall and heard a ragged breath.
“Mom?”
My knees almost buckled.
“I’m here, sweetheart. I’m right here.”
A sob broke from the other side, muffled by stone. “I knew you’d come.”
I pressed both palms against the wall, tears burning my eyes as magic surged wildly through me.
“Are you hurt?”
“I’m okay.” Her voice trembled. “I think. I don’t know. She keeps moving the rooms or I’m losing my mind.”
“You’re not losing your mind, but I’m sure she’s hoping we both do. I’m going to get you out.”
“No, listen.” Panic sharpened her words. “Grandma’s here somewhere. I heard her. You have to get her out.”
My heart squeezed painfully.
“Keegan found her. He and Gideon are...”
“Gideon?”
“It’s a long story.”
“Mom.”
“I know,” I muttered quickly as the wall shuddered beneath my hands.
“She’s coming back.” Celeste groaned.
The room went colder, and every candle along the walls flickered to life at once, though I hadn’t noticed them until that moment. The flames burned blue, and the dead vines above the archway began unfurling with a slow, dry whisper.
I pressed harder against the wall.
“Move away from the stone.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
A beat of silence passed that nearly destroyed me as I realized what that meant.
“My wrist is chained.”
Rage moved through me so fast I saw white as the vines along the archway lunged.
I spun and threw up my hand, hedge magic erupting from the floor to meet them. Living green vines burst through the cracks in the stone, wrapping around the dead black ones before they could reach me. The room filled with the scrape and snap of magic tearing against magic.
My palms burned as the wall behind me rattled.
“Mom!”
“I’m here.” I shoved more magic into the living vines. “I’m still here.”
The dead vines recoiled but didn’t break.
Something old and furious charged through me as I lifted my wand, though my hand shook.
“You picked the wrong batch of daughters,” I whispered.
The vines surged from beneath me in a wave as hedge magic exploded through the room, green and gold and furious, filling the circular chamber with leaves, thorns, and roots that smelled like the garden outside my cottage after rain.
The dead vines snapped back from the archway, cracking under the pressure as my magic climbed the walls and sank into the stone.
The room shook as Celeste yelled, not realizing it was my magic forcing the walls to break down.
A thin line split the stone from ceiling to floor, and I saw a flash of darkness beyond it.
And finally Celeste’s eyes landed on me. They were wide and terrified but alive.
I choked on a sob.
“Back up,” I told her.
“I can’t.”
Right.
The chain.
The dead vines recovered faster than I expected, lashing out from the upper corners of the room and wrapping around my wrists before I could move. Pain sliced across my skin as thorns dug in.
I yelled and yanked against them as the pendant flared violently and the moonstone sent a burst of pale light across the vines.
They loosened just enough for me to twist one hand free.
Behind me, the archway darkened as a tall shadow stretched across the floor.
I didn’t turn around, but the wall cracked wider.
Celeste’s face appeared between the broken stones with dirt smudging her jaw, but her eyes were fierce in a way that made my heart ache.
“I love you,” she whispered.
I let out a broken laugh despite everything. “Hi, baby. I love you too. I’m here.”
The shadow behind me moved closer.
Celeste’s eyes widened. “Behind you.”
I spun as a shadow came through the archway, but before it could strike, a blur of fur slammed into it from the side.
Keegan.
The impact drove both of them into the far wall. Keegan tore through the creature with brutal efficiency before shifting back into human form, his gaze landing on me with a fury that was mostly fear.
“You didn’t stay put, “ he growled.
“I found her.”
His eyes flicked to the rubble and my daughter as a smile surfaced.
“Celeste.”
“Keegan?” she cried, relief breaking through her voice.
He was beside me instantly. “We’re getting you out.”
A second figure came through the archway behind him.
Gideon.
Followed by my little goblin friend.
“My mother?” I asked.
“Alive and well. But a bit dazed,” Keegan said quickly. “Your father and Bella have her.”
My eyes burned again, and I wanted to collapse from that single word.
Alive.
Gideon moved toward us as Twobble looked around the room.
“She used old binding iron,” Gideon explained.
“Oh, no,” Twobble muttered, but we all chose to ignore him.
“Can you break it?” Keegan asked.
Gideon’s mouth tightened. “Yes.”
The room trembled violently before he could say more.
The wall began sliding sideways, the stones trying to seal themselves around Celeste.
“No,” I shouted.
Keegan shoved both hands into the stone, bracing himself against the moving rubble. Muscles strained through his arms and shoulders as he held the wall from closing.
“Gideon,” he growled.
Gideon grabbed my wrist and pressed my hand against the pendant. “Use the moonstone on the wall.”
“I don’t know how.”
He stared at me. “Yes, you do.”
“Mom,” Celeste sobbed from behind the stone.
That was all it took as I pressed the pendant to the wall and poured every bit of love, fear, fury, and impossible hope I had into the moonstone.
Light erupted through the room, and the wall stopped moving.
For one breath, everything froze, and the wall finally settled.