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“Youdon’t know them,” the Druid interjects.

“Then if you do, tell her,” Dugald barks, showing the first sign of anger I’ve seen from him. The Druid only harumphs without turning around. He walks up to a tree and presses a hand against it. “We can’t interfere. We know that.”

I burst upright, glaring in disbelief.

“This,” I swing my arm wide, “this is what you consider not interfering with me?”

“Quinn, it was—” Dugald starts.

“Donot ‘Quinn’ me,” I cut him off. “Mymother,Dugald. One of you cast that glamour. Someone, one of you, did that. That shifted my entire world. How is that not interfering?”

Dugald closes his mouth and shakes his head. He shrugs, looking to the Druid.

“That should have been impossible,” the Druid says.

He’s still staring at the tree, but his voice sounds thoughtful in a way I’ve never heard before.

“It sure as hell did happen. My dad thought he was crazy. I believed he had Alzheimer’s,” I choke on my anger. I betrayed him. I should have seen through it. Should have seen the truth.

“I’m sorry, Quinn,” Dugald says, moving towards me with outstretched arms, but I jerk away.

“No, you don’t get to sorry this away.” I wrap my arms around my chest. “You knew.”

“Quinn, I didn’t—”

“Don’t play semantics with me. You knew something was off, yet you didn’t say anything to me. You think I don’t remember how you reacted every time I mentioned my mom?”

“It’s not that simple,” Dugald says.

“No, Dugald, it is. I put my trust in you and you didn’t trust me back. You couldn’t be honest with me. I thought you would protect me. I thought you were the key to figuring all this out but now,” I shake my head and grit my teeth. “Now I see the truth.”

His eyes open wide, then he drops his gaze to the ground in shame. He shakes his head, then raises his hands and motions as if pushing away.

“No, Quinn, it’s not—”

“Not that you lied?”

“I didn’t know,” he says, raising his eyes to mine, but my glare dries that defense. He shuts his mouth, swallows, then tries again. “I wasn’t certain.”

“Certain? You weren’t certain that I was being played? You’re not so all-powerful then, are you?” I turn my gaze to the Druid standing behind him, communing with the tree or whatever he’s affecting to. “And you’re not innocent either.”

“No, that I am not,” the Druid agrees, which does more to counter my anger than anything I could imagine.

“Well… good.” I look back at Dugald, who looks stricken. Which is good; I am too. The pain pulses in my chest as if I’ve been stabbed in the heart. It hurts so damn much that it’s choking me. The swell builds in my chest, closing my throat, and pressure builds behind my eyes. “How am I supposed to know what’s real and what’s not?”

“I’ve told you,” the Druid says, turning back around at last. “Reality is agreements.”

“Which tells me nothing,” I yell.

He shuffles towards me, leaning heavier on his walking stick with a more pronounced hunch to his back. He smacks his lips over and over. His breath is strong enough to make me lean back.

“It tells you everything.”

“What? What does it tell me?”

“That you, Quinn, are every bit as responsible for this mess as any of us. You need to look at your responsibility, girl.” I’m taken aback by his vehemence. “You blame Dugald. You blame me. You blame those you don’t even know, but have I once heard you ask what you did? No. This is why you are not ready. It’s why I don’t want to train you because you lack self-awareness.”

Anger slips away like sand through my fingers. I struggle to hang on to it, but I can’t. It flitters off and I’m left empty, barren, and hurting. Tears run down my face, cold trails of despair.

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