Chapter Twenty-Seven #2
There was a sitting chamber with high-backed chairs, a long table, shelves lined with old books, and a fireplace burning with pale blue flames.
A tea tray sat waiting on the table.
“Have some tea,” she said, motioning toward it.
I stared at it. “You cannot possibly think I’m drinking anything you offer me.”
“It isn’t poisoned.”
“Again, you say things that don’t exactly reassure me.”
“You’ve spent too much time with that vampire.” She laughed callously. “Feeding my unsuspecting granddaughter tea that told them more about you than even you knew? And I’m the wicked one?”
“Stella is my friend. She’s never tried to hurt me. In fact, she’s done everything in her power to help me.”
“Are you sure about that?”
I refused to look at her.
The Priestess laughed softly at my quiet rebellion. “Stella has survived by making herself charming enough to be underestimated and difficult enough to avoid killing. I respect it, though.”
The Priestess sat, folding herself into one of the chairs with regal ease. She poured tea into two cups, then slid one toward the empty chair opposite her.
She let out a sigh that almost sounded like a purr. “You think Shadowick is a wasteland.” Her eyes met mine.
“I’ve never thought that. I feel sorry for the people trapped here. It could offer hope and potential.”
Her brows lifted. “You expected optimism while arriving with an army?”
“You know that I have been to Shadowick several times,” I said coolly, still standing.
“And yet you still can’t see through the fog?”
“Oh, no. I can see plenty through the shadows and fog. It highlights the cages just fine.”
“Cages exist everywhere, Maeve. Some are visible. Some look like duty. Some look like devotion. Some look like the sweet little Academy that wrapped its fingers around you and made you feel like belonging.”
My jaw tightened as I looked at her. I hated how she could twist truth into something that felt wrong. “Careful.”
“There she is.” The Priestess lifted her cup and inhaled the steam. “The loyal headmistress. The defender of halls that will take everything you offer and still ask for more.”
“The Academy doesn’t take,” I said quickly.
“Doesn’t it?” She tipped her head. “Your grandmother gave it her life. You gave it your future. Your friends give it their loyalty and time…”
“For the greater good by a choice they made.”
“Are you certain Grandma Elira felt she truly had a choice? After all, she didn’t get to be there for her own son. How cruel.” She pursed her lips and blew the steam off the tea again.
I gripped the back of the chair in front of me. “You’ve not given any of us a choice. You’ve taunted, teased, stolen, and fought us when we’ve done nothing to you.”
“Nothing?” Her brows lifted.
“You took my daughter.” I studied her.
“Magic follows bloodlines whether mothers approve or not.” She set her teacup down. “You of all people should know that. My daughter tried to protect you from magic.”
“Wrong. My mother tried to protect me from YOU.”
My shadow mark warmed again, but it wasn’t burning me.
“You feel what I’m speaking of.”
I shook my head. “I feel many things. Most of them involve wanting to leave.”
“Shadowick is not your enemy.” She watched me. “I’m not your enemy.”
“The shadow pit, Malore, and masked fighters really muddied that message along the way.”
Her smile thinned. “Stonewick tells its stories beautifully. One gets to think about cozy streets, clever witches, wolves guarding the old lines, and goblins innocently making mischief in tunnels. Doesn’t that sound like a charming little village?
It manages to convince everyone it is safe, possibly the victim of such evil places like Shadowick. ”
“It represents safety to a lot of people.”
“And what was Shadowick before it was condemned?” Her voice softened. “Did anyone at your Academy teach you that?”
I didn’t answer because no one truly had, not really.
We had pieces. Curse. Division. Gideon. Wards. Old betrayals. The Academy locking itself away and Stonewick surviving in fragments.
But Shadowick itself?
We treated it like a wound no one dared to heal or look at.
The Priestess saw the hesitation, and satisfaction glimmered in her eyes.
“There it is. The first honest silence I’ve ever felt from you, Maeve.” She shook her head. “Seems like I’ve struck a nerve.”
“Don’t congratulate yourself too soon.”
“You have humor.” She sounded almost approving. “Your mother lost hers for a while. I think she thought she’d find it running away on cruise ships.”
I despised how much this woman knew about our lives.
“Don’t talk about my mom like you knew her.”
“Maeve, I know her better than you realize. She was frightened of her magic from the beginning. Always looking over her shoulder, always desperate to be ordinary, as if ordinary ever saved anyone from pain.” She rolled her eyes.
“You don’t know her,” I repeated.
A sliver of a smile slid onto her lips. “I knew her before she decided fear suited her personality.” The Priestess set down her cup with a delicate clink. “And there we are.”
“I’m not here for family therapy.”
“No. You’re here because you traded yourself for people you love.” She leaned back slightly. “A noble act, if somewhat predictable.”
“You keep saying that like predictability is always weakness.” My brows lifted as I looked around the room. There was something so cold and dark about it. I couldn’t imagine wanting to wander the wings of this compound day in and day out as she had.
“Predictability usually is worse than most things.”
“Then you’ve obviously never raised a daughter. Stability is important.”
The words struck something. I could see a glint of annoyance dash through her gaze.
For the first time since Keegan disappeared through the passage with Celeste, I felt something other than fear.
A sliver of curiosity.
Dangerous, maybe.
Useful, definitely.
The Priestess stood. “You’ll have rooms here that you can make your own.”
“I’m not staying long enough to need decorating advice.”
“You’ll stay until our conversation ends.”
I cocked my head slightly. “And when does that happen?”
“When you understand the truth and what’s truly at stake, Maeve.”
I stared at her. “Understand what?”
She crossed the room toward another door, and it opened before she touched it. Beyond it stretched another corridor, this one lined with windows looking out over the dark hills surrounding Shadowick.
“That your inheritance is larger than Stonewick has allowed you to believe.”
My shadow mark pulsed again, this time in rhythm with something deep beneath the floor.
The foundation chamber.
The pit.
The shadows.
Or maybe Shadowick itself.
I thought of Celeste walking through the gate with Keegan.
I would get back to them, but if I wanted to stop the Priestess once and for all, I needed more than courage and anger.
I needed answers, so I followed her into the corridor, and behind me, the room sealed itself with a sound far too gentle for a prison.