Both women’s eyes widened in disbelief as they slowly turned their gaze back to the Master Keeper. An uncomfortable silence settled in the room, heavy and charged.
Amriel felt her heart race, the thump echoing in her ears like a distant drum. She fought the impulse to let her jaw drop in shock, her lips pressed tightly together. In contrast, Maeve could hardly contain her excitement, nearly clapping her hands with glee.
“Yes! You’ve heard this word before!” Maeve exclaimed, her enthusiasm radiating from her like a beacon. It was clear she was genuinely impressed by the Keeper’s knowledge.
At least one of us is thrilled, Amriel thought, her heart hammering against her ribcage. The air felt stifling as if the walls were closing in around her.
Keeper Hodgins leaned back in his plush armchair, a secretive smile playing at the corners of his lips. The sight sent a shiver down Amriel’s spine, as though she were in the presence of a predator eyeing its prey.
He’s like a fat cat that’s just got into the cream, she mused, frowning slightly. The unsettling feeling gnawed at her. She couldn’t shake the sense that he was concealing something important.
“Indeed, I have,” he said, folding his hands across his ample belly, the kindly smile now tinged with something less sincere.
Amriel watched as his eyes seemed to dance with thoughts she couldn’t decipher. Instinctively, she felt they should leave—now. But Maeve appeared utterly captivated, oblivious to the tension swelling in the room. Her frustration flared. How can Maeve be so blind to the danger? Normally, her friend had sharp instincts, but right now, she seemed enchanted. Amriel glanced again toward the exit, her mind racing with escape plans. We have to get out of here.
Amriel’s unease grew as she watched Maeve’s rapt attention on Keeper Hodgins. The northern woman was entranced, as if under a spell.
Why didn’t I sense this sooner? Amriel’s mind screamed. The enchantment explained everything. But why had she only just noticed it?
Because it’s powerful. Nythia’s voice echoed in her mind. Amriel might not wield the Gift that allowed Mages and Witches to manipulate magic, but like her mother before her, she had the rare ability to sense it—and resist it.
Her gift, inherited through generations of women in her family, was unique. Beyond those who controlled it, few could detect magic.
As she opened her mouth to speak, the Master Keeper interrupted, still wearing that infuriating smile. He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing on Maeve. “Now, where did you come across this word? The injured man, I presume?” His voice was smooth, laced with an unsettling charm.
Amriel silently urged Maeve to keep quiet. It was a futile hope against the thrall of such magic. No wonder Maeve felt compelled to share everything.
Frustrated as she was, this wasn’t Maeve’s fault. It was her obsession that had led them into this mess in the first place, and now it was Amriel’s responsibility to extricate them before it was too late.
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“Maeve, it’s late. We should go,” Amriel said urgently, trying to snap her friend out of her daze. But Maeve seemed oblivious, completely absorbed by the Keeper’s words.
“Why? We finally found someone who might have answers! You should be excited!” Maeve shot back, her brows knitted in confusion. “Honestly, Reil, you can be so odd sometimes.” With that, she returned her full attention to the Master Keeper, eyes bright with anticipation.
Maeve’s words stung, but she knew it wasn’t really her friend speaking. This was the enchantment at work.
A muscle twitched in the Master Keeper’s cheek as he observed the two women, clearly entertained by their argument. Yet something about his gaze seemed to gleam with malice.
Why is he so interested? Amriel wondered. The question lingered in her mind. What exactly had stumbled into her cottage that night? The Master Keeper had undoubtedly heard countless secrets. What made this particular stranger so intriguing?
The unease thickened in the room, and Amriel knew they needed to leave before things escalated further. But she had to tread carefully, steering Maeve toward the exit without raising the Keeper’s suspicions.
Keeper Hodgins leaned back, his eyes darting between the two women, his earlier smile replaced with a calculating expression. “The word you mentioned is ancient, from a language long forgotten—only fragments remain among our Keepers,” he said, his tone calm and deceptively soothing.
Amriel’s instincts screamed at her to flee, but she had to convince Maeve to do the same.
Maeve’s eyes widened, her expression utterly entranced. Amriel loathed the way the spell twisted her friend’s typically strong will. Frustrated, she felt an overwhelming urge to lunge across the table and shake Maeve back to her senses. Or perhaps it was the Master Keeper she needed to shake to break the enchantment. But she knew that such an act would likely land them both in the dungeons.
Built by the notorious King Edmund Egarian, the Dreadfort loomed in her mind—a twisted tower of black stone, infamous for its torture chambers and execution grounds. The thought of being imprisoned there sent a chill down her spine.
Desperate to save Maeve from the spell’s grasp, Amriel’s mind raced for a solution. She recognized her limitations; while she could sense the magic and resist it, breaking it was beyond her reach.
Captivated, Maeve leaned closer. “Amriel said the man spoke it twice and clearly. Could he have been anything but human?”
“You have a thirst for knowledge, my dear,” Keeper Hodgins replied, his voice rich with flattery and manipulation. “I can see it in your eyes. You crave the truth, don’t you?”
Maeve nodded eagerly, her excitement palpable. “Yes, Keeper Hodgins!”
Amriel’s heart sank. No, that’s enough.
With no further hesitation, Amriel sprang from her chair, causing both Maeve and the Master Keeper to flinch in surprise. She grasped Maeve’s hand, pulling her urgently toward the exit.
“We need to leave. Now,” she insisted, hoping the urgency in her voice would pierce the enchantment’s hold. But she doubted it would work. They needed to act swiftly, or things would spiral out of control.
But Maeve resisted, still entranced. “Just a little longer, Amriel! I want to hear what he has to say!” Her eyes sparkled with fascination, oblivious to the growing danger. Amriel tightened her grip on Maeve’s arm until her friend gasped in surprise. “You’re hurting me! Stop!”
“Forgive me,” the Master Keeper said, standing as Amriel dragged Maeve toward the door. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Please, sit. I’ll tell you everything you want to know.” His tone had shifted, now tinged with annoyance bordering on anger.
“I apologize for wasting your time, Master Keeper. I think I left my fire burning back home,” Amriel replied, struggling to keep her voice steady as she concocted a plausible excuse. “I wouldn’t want to return to a blaze.”
Keeper Hodgins’ thick brows knitted in concern, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. Amriel could sense his frustration at her ability to resist the enchantment. But she had no intention of remaining long enough for him to uncover her secret.