“What do you mean?”
“It was almost like… like he hadotherfaces beneath his own and was cycling through them. At first I thought maybe they were just fae glamours, but there was something oddly familiar about some of them. I can’t quite put a finger on it—everything happened so fast, so I didn’t really get a good look.” I stand before the fireplace, taking a final opportunity to warm up before we venture out again. “I have a feeling he’s going to show up back at the inn. He wants me, but he also wants the Codex. Maybe he thinks he can tap into its power, or maybe he just doesn’t want anyone else to do so. Either way, I’m wondering if maybe he’s been pulling the strings on it all along—the strings that eventually led the Archmage to its location in Ireland. We know they’ve been working together—at least theywereworking together before Verrick betrayed him.”
I stare into the flames, still trying to puzzle it out.
“The Codex had a spell powerful enough that it enabled me to form some kind of magical connection with Verrick and bring him to our realm without a traditional fae portal. Then, some combination of my magic and the Codex brought us here, to Wintermoon. Now, according to Verrick, the alleged Spell of Unmaking won’t work on your curse, but that doesn’t mean it won’t work on other things, and it doesn’t mean there aren’t other spells thatwillwork on the curse.”
“You’re right.” Draegan joins me by the fire, his hands warm and steady on my shoulders. “Whatever the reasons, I’m fairly certain the last thing he wants is for that book to remain in our hands, especially now that you can read it and we’ve got witches working to help crack its cryptic mysteries.”
A log shifts in the fire, sending up a burst of sparks. “You know, I keep thinking about my nightmare the night of the library fire. The woman I saw from the Tarot—from the Judgement card? She kept telling me I had a task to complete. But then she turned into Verrick, and I decided she must’ve been an illusion. That it was him all along, twisting my dreams into nightmares, slowly worming his way into my head. I don’t know how he got to me so easily, but he did. Not just my thoughts, but my intuition, too. All of a sudden, Iwantedto bring him here. Needed to. Nothing had ever felt so important, so right.”
“Verrick is a master of trickery and illusion. The fact that he conjured an image from the Tarot to manipulate you—”
“But that’s just it. The more I think about it, the more I think shewasn’tan illusion.” I turn around and look up into his stormy gray gaze. “I’m pretty sure she was part ofme, Draegan. Part of my magic. My soul. Bringing Verrick to our realm wasn’t the task she set out for me—thatpart was his manipulation. His darkness overpowered her—overpowered me. But when she tried to tell me about my task, I think she was speaking of a larger purpose. Something that led me to connect with the other witches and better learn to use my magic. To somehow… I don’t know.” I close my eyes and take a deep breath, the words feeling suddenly immense. “To reclaim the prophecy and choose what it means tome.”
Laney’s words from last night echo.
Your task, Westlyn, is to decide what kind of witch you want to be. Not the witch the Archmage and his ilk wanted you to be. Not the one Verrick is attempting to control and manipulate. Not the witch some ancient prophecy has dictated for you, generations before you were even born. Not even the witch you believe your gargoyles want. But the truly powerful, divine witch of your heart and soul…
I share those words with Draegan now.
“And you believe this is the very task your Tarot vision was speaking of as well?” he asks.
“I’m not sure, but it… it feels right.” I press a hand to my heart. “In here, it feels right.”
He tucks a finger under my chin and dips his head low, pressing a gentle, reassuring kiss to my lips.
“Then itisright,” he whispers, and the simple declaration of his words, of his kiss, of his gentle touch, of the fierce, unwavering look in his eyes… All of it steadies me, bolstering me for what’s to come.
“We need to find our way back to the inn,” I say, resolute in the decision now. “I don’t suppose you have any idea where in the wretched frozen hell we are?”
“As a matter of fact, I do.” He leads me to the window and points to a high peak towering in the distance, its jagged edges clear now that the storm has passed. “If memory serves, that’s Shadowcliff Mountain, part of the Blackfeather range that runs along the western edge of Wintermoon. The village is due south of us, maybe about forty miles or so, as the crow flies.”
“You mean, as the gargoyle flies?”
“Precisely. As long as we head in that direction and the skies remain clear, we should be able to reach it fairly quickly.”
“Okay, then.” I blow out a breath. “Let’s do this.”
As Draegan puts out the fire with the last of our cooking water, I take one more look around our cozy little cabin and smile, sending it a silent prayer of thanks for being our refuge in the storm.
For giving us the opportunity to share our first kiss.
For that alone, it will remain a bright spot in my memory of an otherwise terrible place.
“All set,” Draegan says, and I nod, following him out into the bright daylight.
Then, after closing the cabin door behind us and sharing one more delicious kiss, my gargoyle and I are soaring up into the Wintermoon sky, his arms wrapped securely around me, the sun deceptively warm and lovely on our faces.
Chapter Twenty-Two
ROOK
I feel her before I see her, our bond so impossibly strong now—such an innate part of me—I wonder how I existed for so many centuries without sensing her soul.
Minutes later, she and Draegan burst through the doors of the inn, breathless with both exertion and relief.
Auggie rushes to them, sweeping her into his arms and crushing her against his chest. “You’re back, thank the devil.”
