Chapter Twenty Six
Fear swam through every cell of my body as I looked into the cavernous pit. It would have looked like a snake pit, except the shadows wound and curled as if they were waiting to be fed. It briefly reminded me of the Flame Ward and the memory forges, only these were darker.
“It only takes one misstep.” The Priestess’ cold, calculating voice hung in the air.
Celeste looked at me, and I gave a quick smile as I turned my gaze to Keegan.
“Get her out.” I mouthed to him.
He gave a slight nod as Gideon watched.
“I have a deal for you.” The Priestess took a step forward.
“We’re not in the mood for deals,” Gideon said, shaking his head.
“I will make it impossible for you to leave. You have my word.” Her eyes narrowed on him.
And the worst part was that I knew it was true, or my mom would have walked out on her own, and Gideon never would have needed me to whisk him away on a broomstick.
“What is it you want?”
Her grin widened.
“Well, I want to get to know my granddaughter. Maeve, you seem so unlike your mother, and it’s time we got to spend time with one another.”
“Not happening.” I shook my head.
“I’ll let everyone walk out without a fight, no magical recourse, nothing haunting you…” Her voice trailed off. “And you just need to stay here.”
My brows lifted. “And then what?”
“Well, I’m hoping I can persuade you that Shadowick isn’t so bad.”
“Don’t listen to her,” Keegan warned. “We’ll find a way out of here.”
But Gideon’s gaze caught mine, and his eyes told a different story.
I thought about the orcs, midlife witches, Fae, and goblins fighting on our behalf, and the thought of any more harm coming to any of them made me sick. I could handle the Priestess, my grandmother, as long as my daughter and mom were safe.
I exchanged a look of understanding with Gideon and brought my gaze to the Priestess.
“Let them go now, and I will stay.”
Celeste gasped. “Mom, no.”
“It’s okay. I’ll be fine.” I smiled at her. “And I’ll be back in Stonewick before you know it.”
The lie floated between us, flimsy and bright, and I hated that my daughter was old enough to recognize it.
Her eyes filled with the kind of terror I had spent her whole life trying to keep away from her. The kind that didn’t come from thunder or nightmares or the first day of school, but from knowing the person you loved was making a decision you couldn’t stop.
“No.” Celeste shook her head, fingers clamping around the pendant at her throat. “No, I’m not leaving you here with her.”
Keegan took one step toward me, and the pit answered.
The shadows below rose in one smooth, awful motion, curling upward like a warning. The entire floor trembled beneath us, and a thin crack spread from the edge of the pit toward Keegan’s boots.
He stopped.
The Priestess smiled faintly. “You see? The compound can behave when respected.”
“That isn’t behavior. That’s training,” Gideon said.
“How poetic you’ve become away from me.” Her gaze slid over him, and there was something possessive there that made my skin crawl. “It’s a shame.”
Gideon’s mouth twitched, but there was no humor in it. “It’s a relief.”
Her expression cooled, and the shadows below shifted again, scraping across one another in a whispering hiss that crawled over my bones.
Twobble had gone very still near the broken column at the edge of the chamber, with one hand pressed to his chest as if keeping his heartbeat inside.
His other hand curled around a little pouch of goblin powder, though even he seemed to understand that throwing anything right now might send us all into the pit.
“Maeve,” Keegan said, and his voice did something to my chest.
I looked at him because I had to, and his face held every protest he couldn’t risk speaking too loudly. The anger. The fear. The love. The terrible understanding that I had already stepped into the center of a choice, and if he charged at me now, the Priestess would use it against us.
“I need you to take her,” I said softly.
“No.” His eyes darkened. “We’re not making a deal with her.”
“Keegan.”
Celeste started toward me, but Gideon caught her gently by the arm. She jerked against him immediately, fury flashing through her fear.
“Let go of me.”
“You need to listen to your mother,” Gideon said quietly.
“I don’t need to do anything you say.”
His face shifted, and for a moment, the ancient brooding enemy of Shadowick looked less like someone shaped by darkness and more like someone standing in the path of another person’s grief because he knew exactly how badly it could destroy things.
“No,” he agreed. “But you need to live long enough to argue with her later.”
Celeste’s mouth trembled.
The Priestess watched it all with an expression that made me want to slap the certainty right off her face.
“Touching,” she murmured. “Really. I did wonder how much of the Bellemore softness survived.”
“My daughter is not soft,” I said.
Celeste lifted her chin. “And neither is my mom.”
The shadows stilled at that.
The Priestess’ gaze deepened.
I saw the moment she noticed Celeste fighting back tears. The moment she realized my daughter had understood what the tears could do and was refusing to give them.
A strange flicker passed through her eyes.
Interest.
I hated that more than anger.
Keegan saw it too.
He moved just enough to put himself between the Priestess’ view and Celeste, though the pit shivered at the motion.
“You gave your word,” he said.
The Priestess’ brows lifted. “To let everyone go.”
“If Maeve stays,” Gideon said.
Her gaze rested on me again. “If Maeve stays willingly.”
The word curled through the room.
Magic loved technicalities. Villains loved them even more.
I drew in a slow breath and forced my fingers to loosen at my sides. My shadow mark scar burned and pulled now without the pendant, but I didn’t flinch. I wouldn’t give her that either.
“I’ll stay willingly,” I said.
Celeste made a small, broken sound.
Keegan’s jaw tightened so sharply I could see the muscle jump.
The Priestess extended one pale hand toward me. “Then say it properly.”
Gideon’s eyes flashed. “Careful.”
I didn’t look at him. If I did, I might lose my nerve.
“What do you want me to say?”
“That you accept my invitation to remain in Shadowick until our conversation has come to its natural end.”
I almost laughed.
As if she’d invited me over for tea and not taken my mother and daughter and unleashed nightmares on half of Stonewick.
Stella would have had a field day with that wording.
My throat tightened at the thought of Stella and at Nova, Bella, Ardetia, Caleb, my father, and all the witches and goblins who had flown into this darkness because they trusted me to lead them out again.
I had to lead them out, even if I wasn’t walking with them.
“I accept your invitation to remain in Shadowick until our conversation has come to its natural end,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt.
The shadows in the pit lowered in soft, reluctant coils, settling deeper into the darkness below, and a path appeared along the right side of the chamber where only a wall had been moments before.
It was lit by pale blue sconces that flickered to life one after another.
Twobble stared at it. “This is deeply unsettling.”
The Priestess smiled. “The way out is open.”
Keegan didn’t move, and neither did Celeste.
My daughter stared at me with such betrayal that I felt it slice through places no magic could reach.
“I’m not leaving,” she whispered.
“Yes, you are,” I said softly.
And I realized there was no deeper bond than that between a mother and her daughter.
Her jaw tightened. “No.”
“Celeste.” I stepped toward her, and the Priestess allowed it. “Listen to me. You’re going to go with Keegan and Gideon. You’re going to find Grandma and Grandpa and Bella and Caleb. You’re going to get everyone out of here. I need you to help with this.”
Her lips pressed together so hard they went white.
“And then what?”
“Then you tell Stella I expect tea when I get home.”
A tear slipped down her cheek, and Celeste gasped and slapped a hand over her own cheek, horrified.
The pendant at her throat flashed bright silver, absorbing the tear before it fell from her jaw. The moonstone pulsed once, and the shadows recoiled from the light.
The Priestess’ smile faded a fraction.
I cupped Celeste’s face carefully, wiping the dampness from her skin with my thumb before she could panic further.
“It’s okay.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cry.”
“No, baby. Don’t you ever apologize for loving me. It’s taking everything I have not to do the same,” I whispered next to her ear and straightened.
Her face crumpled, but she breathed through it, swallowed hard, and forced the rest of the tears back with a strength that made me both proud and furious at the world for requiring it.
Keegan stepped close enough that his hand brushed mine.
“I will come back for you,” he said, voice low.
“I know.”
“No, Maeve.” His gaze held mine with the intensity of every promise he’d ever made me. “I will come back.”
“That is a hope,” the Priestess said lightly. “But my guess is she won’t want to leave.”
Keegan’s eyes didn’t leave mine. “It isn’t hope.”
The words wrapped around me, warm and terrible.
Twobble sniffled loudly and wiped his nose on his sleeve. “I would like to make a formal complaint about all of this.”
“It will turn around,” I assured him.
Twobble’s mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. He looked at me, and all the fight drained from him.
“You’re making me leave, too?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
His ears drooped. “I am very displeased.”
“I know.”
“I may sulk for weeks.”
“I expect nothing less.”
He shuffled toward me, and for a second, I thought he might hug my leg. Instead, he shoved something into my hand so quickly I almost missed it.
A tiny pouch.
“Emergency provisions,” he muttered.
I gave a slight nod, and he turned away before I could see his face clearly.
Gideon moved to the path first, scanning it with narrowed eyes. He lifted one hand, mage light flickering along his fingers, and the sconces burned brighter in response.
“It’s open,” he said. “For now.”
“For now,” I repeated quietly.
The Priestess heard me and smiled.
Keegan took Celeste’s hand, though she looked like every step away from me physically hurt her.
“Look at me,” I told her.
She did.
“You keep that pendant on. No matter what.”
She nodded.
“And when you see your grandmother, tell her I’m coming.”
Celeste swallowed. “Which grandmother?”
“Both.”
A tiny, broken smile touched her lips.
Gideon began moving, and Keegan guided Celeste with him, though his gaze kept cutting back to me every few steps. Twobble followed behind them with his shoulders stiff and his little hands clenched at his sides.
The path behaved, but I didn’t trust it.
The compound let them pass through the chamber without the floor splitting, without the walls shifting, without shadows snapping from the ceiling to drag them back.
The Priestess stood beside the pit, watching me watch them.
And I realized she enjoyed it.
Celeste looked back once again when Keegan leaned down and said something to her, but I couldn’t hear. Whatever it was, made her nod, though her hand stayed clenched around the moonstone at her throat.
Gideon paused at the edge of the passage and turned back.
His gaze met mine across the room, and there was something there.
Warning.
Promise.
Guilt.
Maybe all three.
He gave the slightest nod before disappearing into the blue-lit corridor.
Keegan stopped where the chamber narrowed, his hand resting against the stone wall, shoulders rigid with everything he was holding back.
For a moment, nobody spoke.
The battle sounds beyond the tower had softened, as if the compound had truly honored the deal and quieted its creatures. Somewhere far away, I heard a faint orc horn, then the answering call of wolves gathering.
I could feel the movement through the walls somehow, the retreat beginning in careful pieces.
The witches were pulling back from the upper towers.
The shifters were collecting the wounded.
The goblins were vanishing from cracks and gutters and places no one wanted to think about.
My father got my mother out while Bella and Caleb guarded the edges.
Everyone was leaving because I had stayed.
Keegan looked at me one last time, and I memorized his face because I refused to let the Priestess steal that too.
He turned and vanished into the corridor with Celeste, Twobble, and Gideon.
The compound sealed the passage behind him with a soft click of stone.
The sound was small.
Final.
I stood there for several breaths, staring at the place where they had gone.
In my gut, I knew it was only for now.
The Priestess stepped closer, shadows curling obediently around the hem of her gown.
“There,” she said softly. “Now we can finally talk.”