Page 97 of Magical Mayhem
And I had no idea how to stop it.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The room stilled, as though every sound was holding its breath. The shadows along the corners retreated slightly, flickering as though pushed back by some unseen force.
Nova’s hand was still steady on my arm. She leaned closer, her green eyes searching mine with unsettling precision.
“I don’t know what you did,” she murmured, her voice low, meant only for me. “But it helped him.”
I blinked, startled. My gaze whipped toward the bed because last I checked, he looked a heck of a lot worse.
Gideon lay motionless, but not the terrifying stillness from before. His chest rose and fell more evenly now, the rasp gone from his breath. The violent coughing had subsided, leaving only a faint tremor in his shoulders. His lips, once gray, carried a hint of plum again.
My stomach flipped while relief warred with disbelief.
“I…” My voice cracked. “I tried to search for the truth.”
Nova’s brow furrowed, her gaze never wavering. She didn’t rush to speak, didn’t shower me with praise or warnings. She only tilted her head, analyzing me with that piercing calm that always made me feel both stripped bare and steadied.
“Truth,” she repeated softly, tasting the word. Her eyes slid back to Gideon, then returned to me. “Maybe it’s his truth thathas been making him so sick. The curse is latching onto it. Feeding on it. Maybe his truth is worse than Keegan’s.”
The idea rippled through me, shaking my ribs from the inside.
Nova’s voice grew stronger, more certain. “Curses attach themselves like parasites. They fasten to whatever is darkest, whatever is weakest, and gnaw until nothing is left. If his truth began in wickedness, if it was twisted from the very start…” She gestured slightly toward the bed. “Then no wonder he is breaking apart faster than Keegan.”
I swallowed hard, her words slotting too easily into place.
“And maybe,” I whispered, “that’s why Keegan isn’t as sick as Gideon.”
Nova inclined her head. “Possibly.”
The silence stretched, and my hands curled against my lap. “There’s no doubt, Nova. Malore used him. I saw it.”
Her head snapped up, eyes narrowing. “How do you know?”
I drew in a shaky breath, the memory of the Hedge pressing like a stone on my chest. I hadn’t meant to tell her. Not yet. But Nova’s eyes left no room for deflection.
“I saw them,” I whispered. “Gideon and Malore. A memory, frozen in time. Gideon wasn’t the monster he became, not yet. He was just a boy. Tired, lonely. Malore spoke to him as if he were the only one who mattered. Told him Stonewick had always been the enemy. Told him he was destined to be the Mage who ruled all magic. Promised to serve him.”
Nova’s lips pressed into a thin line, but she didn’t interrupt.
I forced myself to continue, though the words scraped raw. “But the price Malore demanded was a curse. To divide thelands, to rip families apart. He told Gideon it would show him the truth, that the ones who stayed were the real enemies, because they would be the hardest to break.”
Nova exhaled slowly, her staff tightening under her hand. “Malore’s words.”
I nodded. “And Gideon believed him.”
We both turned back to the bed. Gideon lay there, breathing steadily now, his face slack with exhaustion. For the first time since I’d known him, he looked almost… human.
Nova’s voice was quiet but sharp. “You may have set him free a little without realizing it. If the curse feeds on his darkest truth, and you stripped a piece of it bare…”
“Then it loosened its grip,” I finished, the realization twisting through me.
“Yes.” Nova’s gaze flicked to me again. “But only a little. The curse still festers. And he…” She trailed off, her lips tightening.
“He’s still Gideon,” I said.
“Exactly.”
