Page 56 of Magical Mayhem
I stiffened, my breath catching in my throat. I wasn’t ready to hear it again.
“Keegan’s sick,” Dad began, voice low. “Or rather, cursed. It’s not an illness that can be cured with broth or poultices. The shadows have their claws in him, and each day they dig deeper.”
Mom’s hand froze halfway to her lips. “Cursed? Beyond the shifting…”
“Yes.” His eyes softened, but his jaw stayed tight. “It started subtly. Small changes, temper fraying at the edges, his eyes darker than they should be. Now it’s plain. The curse is in his blood. It’s twisting him.”
The words hit me like stones. I pressed my palms against my thighs, as if grounding myself in the wood of the chair would keep me steady. I already knew all of this. I had lived it, breath by breath, watching Keegan unravel. But hearing it spoken aloud—it seared.
Mom shook her head. “That boy… he was always strong, too strong for his own good. How could this happen?”
“Malore,” Dad said simply, and the name fell like an ax into the room.
The air shifted. Even the kettle seemed to falter mid-sigh.
Mom’s lips thinned. “He’s returned?”
“He never left,” Dad corrected grimly. “He’s been waiting in the dark, weaving himself into cracks we didn’t know were there. And now he’s walking Stonewick again, trying to scatter the Hunger Path and destroy the ancient rites. He’s made his own rules.”
I flinched. My breath came fast, sharp. I’d seen him. I’d fought him. His presence still hung on me like ash.
Mom’s eyes darted to me, then back to Dad. “And you let Maeve be near him?”
“I didn’tlether anything,” Dad said evenly. “She held her ground better than most ever could when my father showed up.”
Their gazes clashed like steel. I wanted to shout, to tell them both to stop talking about me as though I wasn’t sitting right here. But my throat was too tight.
Dad pressed on. “The Silver Wolf has returned as well.”
The room went still again.
Mom blinked. “Her? Keegan’s mom? She left when I did. They both did.”
He nodded once. “Keegan’s mother. Stonewick called her back. No one knows why.”
Mom set her cup down with a click. “After all these years.”
“Yes,” Dad said softly. “After all these years.”
The silence stretched, heavy with a memory I couldn’t touch. I looked between them, my pulse pounding, my mind spinning.
Hearing it all rehashed, the curse, the shadows, Malore, the Silver Wolf, it was too much. My whole body felt like it had been set alight. Heat rolled through me, not just anger but something sharper, wilder. Fire rose in my veins, prickling across my skin, pooling in my chest until I thought it might burn right out of me.
“Stop,” I whispered, though neither of them did.
Mom’s voice sharpened. “You mean to tell me the boy is dying, shadows are loose, Malore is back, and that woman has returned to the village? And you thought I wouldn’t need to know? No wonder you asked me to return. Things are shifting.”
Dad’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t answer immediately. His silence said enough.
“Stop,” I repeated, louder this time. My hands trembled where they gripped the arms of the chair. The heat inside me flared so hot I thought the teacups might crack.
But they kept going.
“Do you even realize what that means?” Mom demanded. “If the Silver Wolf is here, Stonewick is bracing for a war. The old curse crumbled, but the new one is even worse and—”
“Don’t,” I snapped. The word tore from me like a spark.
Both of them froze.
