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Twenty-Two
Over the last hour, I found out Isabelle Pike was Genevieve Pike’s daughter and the owner of this beautiful bookstore.
“My mother chose to use a pseudonym to keep her author life separate from all us kids. She didn’t want anyone targeting us because of what she wrote about.”
“I see. But I’m curious as to why there is only one copy of this book. It seems odd that after having so many successful titles published, there wouldn’t have been more printed of this one too.”
“It was Mother’s choice. Her final request actually.” Isabelle looked down to the book, which rested safely back in my own hands. “She said that it was special, but none of us ever truly understood why.”
My thumb grazed the embossed lettering. I know why.
“I’m so glad someone found it, though, and think she would be pleased it was you.” Isabelle offered me another cup of tea from the dainty porcelain set she’d brought out earlier from the back of the store.
“Thank you, but I have to be going soon. I do have one more question if that’s okay.”
“Of course.” Isabelle set down the teapot and reclaimed her seat on the couch across from me.
“In the book, your mom refers to using a source. Someone who gave her firsthand information about the subject matter. Do you happen to know who that is… or was?” I amended in case they were no longer alive.
Her eyes caught mine, squinting and contemplative. “I’m sorry, but no. I don’t have a clue.”
The flames of the nearby candles gutted in an unseen wind. I instinctively drew the book close to my chest and stood to gather my things.
“Well, thank you for your time, Isabelle. It was an absolute pleasure meeting you.” I smiled but didn’t shake her hand before leaving the store.
She watched me from behind the glass door, giving a little wave as I climbed into Keelyn’s car. I wasn’t sure why I got nervous all of a sudden, but my witch’s instincts told me it was time to go.
Four hours later, I’d returned Keelyn’s car and rushed home through the woods, happy to be back on my familiar, foot-worn trail. Today was a victory, even if I didn’t get all the answers I wanted. I had left my land, venturing out on my own farther than I ever had before and found myself connecting to a stranger in a pleasant and real way. It was something I’d rarely experienced in my life so far. Perhaps it had to do with where I was and Isabelle’s own history with the supernatural, but I didn’t feel strange or ostracized while talking about the magical book. My connection with Roarke was spun in the stars, but having someone who understood me and who I could have an honest conversation with here in the real world felt pretty damn good—despite my awkward exit.
My mind relived the moment the entire drive home, searching for the trigger that sent me fleeing the shop. I didn’t feel as though Isabelle was keeping anything from me, but again, I couldn’t deny the pull in my gut that our conversation had come to a definitive and strange end.
Tomorrow I would start my search anew, looking for anything to do with Genevieve Pike. But tonight, I needed to figure out how I was going to handle Roarke. I wasn’t sure if he bought my excuse from earlier today, but I was determined to stand my ground. I might be his chosen queen, but I wasn’t at his beck and call. I tucked the small rose into my memory circle, then took my time making dinner and enjoying some cuddle time with Jenks before eventually heading to bed.
Waking to another starlit sky, I spun to get my bearings. Roarke was nowhere in the immediate vicinity as far as I could tell, and based on the strange monolithic mountain standing in the distance, I’d arrived somewhere I’d never been before.
“Roarke?” I called out, receiving no response. I cupped my hands around my mouth and tried again, shouting into the void. “Roarke, are you here?”
A rip opened up in the sky above the towering red mountain. Purple, blue, and magenta stars poured into its center like the entire cosmos was being funneled into its core.
I stood awestruck as a square opening carved itself in the stone, creating a door to another world from which Roarke emerged.
Dressed in his traditional garb, the Weaver stalked toward me, his face hidden beneath the hood of his thick black cloak. Watching him approach gave me butterflies. In this moment, he exuded confidence—his broad shoulders and strong legs carrying him in my direction, the slight swagger in his step, and the dip of his head. He was like a seductive jungle cat closing in on its prey, and suddenly I wondered if that prey was me. Was he honestly angry that I hadn’t shown up for an entire night? At this point, I couldn’t tell.
Shifting on my feet, I called out to him, trying to get a feel for where his emotions lay. “Hi.” I waved. “Where are we? This place is absolutely amazing.”
He remained silent, continuing forward and closing the distance between us.
I knew he wouldn’t hurt me, but instinctively, my magic rose to the surface, reacting to my fear. Not that I had a clue if I could defend myself against a Weaver if I had to. Dammit. There was still so much I didn’t know.
I lowered my hand and stood still, waiting for him to get closer.
The features of his face finally came into view, and I exhaled a sigh of relief. Silver light shimmered brightly from beneath his hood due to a wide smile that reached his eyes.
“I’m so glad you’re here!” He swept me up into a crushing hug, spinning us around.
A laugh bubbled out of me as he set me back on my feet. “Where exactly is here? What is this place?” I pointed to the lone mountain standing in the distance, its top still being flooded with cosmic light.
“This is the Weaver’s Gate. It’s the source of all of our magic.”
