Chapter Thirty-Seven
The clearing slowly began to breathe again.
It began as small movements, with people shifting where they stood, brushing leaves from their clothes, helping one another back to their feet, and then the murmur of voices rose.
It wasn’t in panic or shouting like in town, mere hours before.
It was only the low rumble of people trying to make sense of something none of them had ever expected to see.
I pushed away from the tree that I’d leaned against and took a slow look around the clearing.
A few minutes ago, everyone had been fighting.
Now the orcs stood in small groups, shoulders still tight, but their weapons hung lower at their sides.
The shifters were shifting back one by one—someone pulling on a jacket, someone else running a hand through hair full of leaves and dirt.
Near the hedge, a knot of witches had gathered, their hands still faintly lit with leftover magic as they spoke in low voices, the kind people use when they’re trying to make sense of something that almost got out of control.
Everywhere I looked, people were doing the same thing.
Talking.
Replaying what had just happened.
“…the Priestess,” someone was saying a few yards away.
“I’m telling you, it was her.”
“And she ran.”
“She did run.”
Another voice chimed in, half awed. “The Priestess of Shadowick… and she ran.”
I leaned against the tree again for a moment, listening.
It was strange hearing it out loud.
A few hours ago, the Priestess had been more rumor than reality, only something whispered about in the darker corners of magical history. Now, half the town had just watched her stand in the woods outside Stonewick.
And leave.
The thought sent a strange ripple through the clearing.
Relief.
Disbelief.
And something else that was starting to grow stronger the longer people stood there talking.
Confidence.
I took a slow breath.
Then the mark on my shoulder flared again.
“Ah—”
The sting shot down my arm before I could stop it. I sucked in a sharp breath and instinctively pressed my hand against the spot.
The movement didn’t go unnoticed.
“Maeve.” Keegan was beside me before I even realized he’d moved.
He wasn’t in wolf form anymore. His dark shirt clung to his shoulders where sweat and dirt had soaked into the fabric, and there was a thin scratch along one side of his jaw that hadn’t been there earlier.
His hazel eyes dropped straight to my shoulder.
“You alright?”
“Fine,” I said quickly.
The word came out a little tighter than I intended.
He didn’t look convinced.
Before he could say anything else, Luna hurried over with something wrapped in a knitted square.
“I thought you might need this,” she said.
The compress was cool when she pressed it gently against the back of my shoulder.
The relief was instant.
“Oh,” I sighed. “Okay, that’s… wonderful.”
“Don’t move,” Luna said firmly.
Nova stepped up on my other side, arms folded as she studied me.
“That mark is reacting to the shadow magic,” she said quietly.
“Good to know,” I muttered.
Keegan’s gaze flicked between the three of us.
“What does it mean?” I looked from him to Nova, and over to Luna.
None of us said anything for a few seconds.
Finally, I shook my head.
“I don’t know,” Nova admitted.
The words felt strange coming out of her mouth. She usually had answers.
“Having this mark worries me.”
Nova’s expression softened.
“That’s alright,” she said. “You’re not supposed to have everything figured out tonight.”
“Well, that’s convenient,” I said.
The corner of Keegan’s mouth lifted like he almost smiled, and Luna shifted the compress on my shoulder, her hands gentle but firm.
“You’re shaking,” she said.
“I just fought a small army of sentient shadows,” I reminded her.
“Still shaking pretty terribly, though.” Her eyes stayed on mine.
And she was right.
The adrenaline was fading now, leaving my limbs heavy and a little unsteady. Or at least I hoped it was only that.
“Let’s get you back to town,” Keegan said quietly, wrapping his arm around my waist to steady me.
“I can walk.”
He nodded. “I know.”
Nova stepped closer on my other side.
“Which is why we’re going to help,” Twobble came up behind me. “Those who know they can do it on their own are more accepting of help.”
I smiled and nodded, grateful for a little assistance.
Between them all, they managed to guide me away from the tree line and onto the narrow path that wound back toward Stonewick.
The walk through the woods felt different now.
Quieter.
The Hedge magic still hummed faintly beneath the soil, like the land itself was settling after the fight.
Ahead of us, groups of witches and shifters moved along the path in small clusters, talking as they went. Orcs walked alongside them, some still carrying weapons over their shoulders.
No one looked quite the same as they had earlier that evening.
Something had shifted.
They had stood together tonight.
Not witches in one corner.
Orcs in another.
Shifters watching from the trees.
All of them.
Together.
And the Priestess had seen it.
I glanced around as we walked.
A shifter clapped an orc on the shoulder.
Two witches were arguing animatedly about which spell had knocked the first shadow out of the sky.
Someone laughed.
The sound felt almost unreal after the tension of the fight.
But it spread.
Little pockets of relief broke out along the path as people started to believe what had just happened.
They had faced the Priestess of Shadowick.
And she had left.
The warmth that settled in my chest surprised me.
Hope.
That was the only word for it.
Magic had always felt mysterious to me—dangerous, complicated, sometimes beautiful, and sometimes terrifying.
But walking through a sea of people who were no longer fighting and who were now united made magic feel easier.
It suddenly seemed simpler, more logical.
Magic wasn’t just power.
It was this.
Hope.
Unity.
The belief that people who were different could still stand together when it mattered.
I let out a slow breath.
“Worth it?” Nova asked quietly.
I nodded.
“Yeah,” I said.
We stepped out of the trees a few minutes later.
Stonewick waited at the edge of the woods, lamplight glowing softly along the main street. A few townsfolk had gathered near the entrance, watching anxiously for anyone coming back from the forest.
The moment they saw the crowd emerging, the tension in the air broke.
Voices rose, and people rushed forward.
“Are you alright?” one witch asked her husband.
“What happened?” A shifter too young to go into battle questioned.
I caught a familiar flash of iron in the lantern light.
As we made our way onto the sidewalk, I caught a glimpse of a happy sight. My dad came over, looking dazed.
“I heard it was the Priestess,” he said softly.
I nodded. “Yes.”
“Did you get hurt?”
“Just a little mark,” I said, trying to distract him. “I think Mom is still okay. I think we have a chance.”
My dad nodded slowly and hugged me before taking a few steps back. “The most important thing is getting you back to your old self.”
He scanned my hand, pressing the compress Luna had given me on my shoulder.
Stella stood near the edge of the street, still gripping the cast-iron skillet like it was a sacred weapon.
She turned when she saw us, and she raised the skillet slightly, scanning the dark tree line behind us as if daring another shadow to try its luck.
I couldn’t help laughing.
“You planning to carry that around all night?” I called.
Stella sniffed the air, teasingly. “You never know when a shadow might get ideas.”
She glanced down at the skillet and back at me.
“And besides,” she added, “this thing has a very respectable track record tonight.”
“There were lots of interesting magical methods tonight,” I said, my voice getting stronger with each step.
“I know we’re all focused on Maeve’s new abilities with shadows and how that might be devastating or exciting, depending on how you look at it, but let’s not forget what else happened tonight.” Twobble cleared his throat.
Skonk looked at his twin cousin and lifted his brow in expectation.
“Golden sparks shot right out of these bad boys.” Twobble wiggled his fingertips. “Never happened before, might I add.”
I smiled and nodded. “I was truly impressed.”
“Very impressive,” Nova agreed.
Stella smiled and went ahead to the tea shop with Lady Limora and the girls, and I looked over at Keegan, wondering how he was holding up after seeing his dad.
He probably thought it was a figment of his imagination, considering Rendel didn’t stick around to chat.
“How are you holding up with everything?” I asked, straightening more as Nova’s arm fell away.
I kept my gaze on Keegan, and a flutter of something shadowed his expression.
“Just an unexpected few visitors tonight.” He moved his gaze in front of us to the tea shop. “But nothing I feel like talking about.”
He opened the door, and I inhaled the sweet and earthy scent as cinnamon floated through the air.
The tea shop had never looked like this.
The moment we stepped through the door, warmth wrapped around me like a blanket. A faint tang of magic lingered in the air, and I couldn’t help but want to breathe it in.
Stonewick had apparently decided the best response to a supernatural battle was tea.
Lots of tea.
The vampire ladies had somehow taken over the room.
Vivienne stood behind the counter like she’d been running the place for years, moving with the calm confidence of someone who had seen worse nights than this and gotten through them just fine.
Opal worked beside her, pouring steaming cups one after another so quickly it was hard to keep track.
Mara drifted between the tables with a tray balanced on one hand, weaving through chairs and people like she’d done it a thousand times before.
She stopped beside a table where a few witches sat slumped in their chairs.
“Drink this,” Mara said, setting the cups down in front of them. “And don’t argue with me about it.”