Page 18 of Eternal Thorns

Silas touched the key absently. “Remember those summer visits to my grandmother? The ones you used to tease meabout because I'd come back talking about strange lights in her garden?”

“The fairy stories?” Kai's eyes widened. “Wait, those were real?”

“She was preparing me, I think. Teaching me to see things others missed. The way shadows moved wrong sometimes, how certain objects seemed to hum with power.” Silas smiled slightly. “Why do you think she always insisted you come along too? She was preparing both of us.”

“That crafty woman. Kai shook his head. “So all those 'meditation exercises' she taught us”

“Were actually training us to sense magic, yes.” Silas turned back to the door, which bore the same symbol from the letters. When he finally gave in to the key's insistent warmth and pressed it to the lock, the entire manor seemed to shudder. The door remained shut, but a panel beside it slid away with a grinding sound.

“If a ghost jumps out, I'm leaving,” Kai announced. “Just so we're clear. Magic training or not.”

Instead of a ghost, the hidden space held a single book. Its cover appeared to be made of living bark, warm and smooth under Silas's fingers. The first page bore a single line of elegant script, written in ink that seemed to shimmer like starlight:

“To the Ashworth who would mend what was broken - begin here.”

“You know,” Kai said, watching his friend's face, “when your grandmother taught us those 'meditation exercises,' I don't think she was preparing us for quite this level of magical mystery.”

“Maybe she was.” Silas ran his fingers over the living bark of the book's cover. “Maybe she knew exactly what would happen when I came here.”

“Well then,” Kai straightened, trying to look braver than he felt, “I suppose we better start reading. Preferably somewhere with better lighting and fewer creepy magical doors.”

As they climbed the cellar stairs, the key's warmth spread through Silas's chest like hope - or maybe like the beginning of something that had been waiting centuries to unfold.

The crunchof footsteps on the gravel path pulled Silas's attention from the bark-bound book. Through the manor's front windows, he spotted an elderly woman approaching the gate with surprising steadiness, a large basket hanging from her arm. Her gray hair was tied back with herbs, and her practical dress bore stains that looked suspiciously like potion ingredients.

“We have company,” Kai said, already moving to block the door. “Please tell me you weren't expecting visitors at your haunted exile mansion.”

Before Silas could respond, the woman's voice carried clearly across the grounds. “You can stop plotting defensive positions, young man. If I meant harm, I wouldn't have used the front gate.”

She unlatched it herself, the iron that had felt so heavy to Silas swinging open at her light touch. As she drew closer, Silas noticed her eyes, they were clouded with age yet somehow seeing everything, including the key he wore beneath his shirt.

“Well,” she said, looking him up and down, “you're a bit scrawnier than I expected for the new guardian, but I suppose you'll do.” She thrust the basket at him. “Here. Protection charms, healing potions, and some decent tea. You'll need all three before this is done.”

Kai stepped forward. “I'm sorry, but who exactly are you?”

“The Witch of Blackbriar Hollow will do.” She brushed past them into the manor as if she owned it. “Though your grandmother still calls me Agnes, when she's not being formal.”

“You know my grandmother?” Silas followed her, noting how naturally she navigated the halls.

“Know her? I helped her hide that key you're wearing when everything went wrong the first time.” Agnes ran a hand along the wall, nodding at whatever she felt there. “The manor recognizes me. Good. Some magics have long memories, and not all of them are friendly these days.”

The key pulsed warmly, as if confirming her words. She noticed Silas's reaction and smiled.

“Ah, so it's already bonding with you. That's promising. The last three who tried to claim it didn't fare so well.”

“The last three?” Kai asked. “What happened to them?”

“Best not to dwell on that.” Agnes spotted the bark-bound book in Silas's hands and went very still. “So you found it already. The manor must trust you more than I thought.”

“Found it, yes.” Silas held it out. “But I'm not sure what it means. Or what any of this means, really. The forest guardian, Thorne, he said”

“I know what he said.” Agnes's clouded eyes somehow managed to look sharp. “I felt the disturbance in my bones when he confronted you. The whole forest shook with it.” She took the book, handling it with reverence. “But did you listen to what he didn't say? About why the betrayal hurt him so deeply? About what the key really means?”

Silas thought of the drawings they'd found, of Thorne smiling as he taught forest magic to an Ashworth ancestor. “There's more to the story than just betrayal, isn't there?”

“Much more.” Agnes handed the book back. “Your grandmother and I have waited years for an Ashworth to return who could not only bear the key, but use it properly. One whomight actually be able to break this cycle of vengeance before it destroys both the forest and your bloodline.”

“What do you mean, destroys?” Kai demanded. “What's going to happen?”

---