Page 49 of Magical Moonbeam
“No,” he said. “No, Maeve. You don’t go out first. Not alone.”
The others paused behind us, and I turned to face him.
“It’s the only way. He’ll be watching. He’s always watching. If I wait too long, if I hide like the rest of you, he’ll know we’re baiting him.”
“Because we are,” Keegan said, his voice tight. “That’s exactly what this is.”
“He won’t come unless he thinks it’s just me,” I said. “That’s how he works. He wants to talk, to tempt, and to show me he’s always one step ahead.”
Keegan shook his head, jaw tense. “And what if you’re wrong?”
“Then I hope you’re close enough to do what needs to be done.”
“No,” he said again. “This is reckless.”
“It’s necessary.”
We stood there, facing each other in the middle of a conjured village that shouldn’t exist, each unwilling to budge.
Then Nova stepped between us.
“Maeve’s right.”
Keegan looked at her like she’d betrayed him.
“She’s the tether,” Nova said. “Gideon won’t step out of the shadows for me. Or you. Or any of us. But he will for her.”
“I don’t like it,” Keegan muttered.
“You don’t have to,” Nova said gently. “You just have to be ready.”
Keegan didn’t reply, but his hand moved to his blade again, thumb resting on the hilt like a promise.
We moved again, faster this time, purposeful. Scanning the buildings, counting the steps, and noticing the doors.
Around us, the fog thickened, swirling like breath against glass. As we passed each building, we noted the side doors, balconies, and overhangs. All the details.
Skonk took up a post behind a rusted statue that looked like a warrior mid-yawn. Twobble tucked himself into a collapsed fruit cart, mumbling about how the apples looked haunted. Ember and Ardetia split off to the rooftops, their steps so silent I doubted even Gideon would hear them.
Nova touched my shoulder just before we turned the final bend.
“He’ll know something’s off.”
“I know.”
“But not everything.”
She pressed a charm into my palm that was a delicate thing, strung with three silver threads and a blue-green gem no larger than a dewdrop.
“It’ll tell me if your heartbeat changes.” Her eyes met mine.
I swallowed. “That’s a bit morbid.”
She smiled faintly. “It’s also quite helpful.”
Then they all vanished, each finding a shadow or crevice or vantage point.
And I was alone.
