Not a liar and a traitor.
Not a murderer and a monster.
Friends.
The woman turned back to her table and picked up a small glass bottle, holding it to the light.
“Moon drops,” she said. “Collected on the night of the last full moon. Soaked in lavender petals and morning dew. It brings clarity. Calms the spirit.”
It looked like water. Pretty, shimmering, but still just water in a bottle.
Aran, of course, was already pawing through the table like a child in a candy shop. Turning over charms, poking at wax-sealed jars, holding up a string of beads. That’s Aran. Always touching things he shouldn’t.
The woman didn’t stop him. She just lifted the bottle between two fingers and tilted it toward me like a dare.
“One sip,” the woman murmured. “And you’ll dream sweetly. But drink too much…” she leaned in slightly, her gaze locked on mine, unwavering. “…and you may never wake at all.”
She didn’t blink. Didn’t laugh. Just placed the bottle in my hand like she hadn’t just told me it couldkill me. As if I was desperate enough for sleep that I might risk it anyway.
She wasn’t wrong.
Then she turned back to the table, like it wasn’t a conversation worth lingering on. Picked up two small stones—violet, blue—and held them in her palm.
“Crystals,” she said. “Each with its own purpose. This one helps focus.”
She held up the deep purple one, letting it catch the light, and it sparkled beautifully. “This one soothes restless minds. Worn close to the heart, they do what words cannot.” She held the small pointy blue stone between her fingers.
It should’ve felt strange. All of it. But compared to what I’d already lived through? This wasn’t too unbelievable. And yet there was something about her calmness that made my skin itch. Not because she seemed wrong, but because she spoke like someone whoknew.
“It’s the old way.” The woman didn’t blink. “We’ve practiced it here in Moon Creek since before time had name. We trust what we feel.”
And somehow, I believed her.
Aran leaned forward, all friendly charm. “So… we’ll get the stones? Maybe a bottle of moon drops?”
She smiled.
Aran asked her how much, already reaching for his pouch, but I wasn’t listening anymore. I couldn’t stop staring at the stall next to us. Four hooded men stood there, cloaked in dark fabric that looked worn from travel.
They weren’t bartering. Weren’t even pretending to glance at the wares. They were just standing there.
Watching us.
I looked back at him, trying to catch his eye, trying to will him into being more discreet. But it was in vain. I don’t thinkdiscreetwas even in his vocabulary. Aran started counting out the silvers, fingers fumbling a bit, and the coins caught the sunlight, flashing like bait. He might as well have painted a target on his back.
The woman took the money without a word, nodding once before wrapping the items in soft cloth, tying them neatly with twine. But her eyes also kept flicking sideways, and the men still hadn’t moved.
Aran tucked the pouch back onto his belt and reached for the bundle, despite the fact we were being watched. I was already turning away, but before I could take a single step, the woman’s hand caught my wrist. Her grip was firm. Not rough, but enough to stop me.
“You should come see me again.” Her eyes lingered on mine, like she knew something I didn’t. “I live up the hill. Past the Murkwoods.”
“We’d love to,” Aran answered for me, his tone all sunshine and ease.
Perfect. Now the cloaked men knew where we’d be, too. The woman was still watching me, waiting for my response. So I did the only thing I could when I wasn’t sure if someone was a threat or not.
I smiled politely.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
