Madeline placed the grimoire down with deliberate care, her fingers lingering over its aged leather cover before she turned to Irene. "I need to ask you something," she said, her voice dire.
Irene glanced up, already wary of the shift in Madeline’s tone. "What is it?"
Madeline met her gaze, unwavering. "Do you trust me?"
The question caught Irene off guard. Her brows furrowed. "What?"
"For this spell to work, you have to trust me completely," Madeline said, her voice calm but firm. "No hesitation. No doubt. Just trust."
Irene hesitated. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Madeline—if anything, Madeline had always given her the truth, even when it was brutal. She had never led her astray. But something about the way she asked made Irene feel as though this time, it truly mattered.
Stolen story; please report.
She exhaled slowly. "Yes. I do."
A rare smile touched Madeline’s lips, soft but knowing. "That’s exactly what I needed to hear. Thank you."
She turned slightly, nodding toward the far end of the cavern. "I need you to walk over where the ceiling opens up."
Irene followed the direction of her gaze. The cavern stretched vast and ancient, its walls uneven and jagged, worn smooth in places by time itself. Flickering candlelight caught glimmers of mineral deposits in the rock, casting spectral reflections along the walls. Above her, the ceiling opened into a perfect, circular gap, framing the night sky as if it had been carved with divine precision.
The moon loomed large and luminous, its silver glow spilling into the cave like liquid light. The air beneath it felt different—charged, humming with an energy she could almost taste on her tongue. Where water might have once pooled in a place like this, there was only earth beneath her feet, solid yet strangely cool, bathed in the moon’s ethereal glow.
Irene stepped closer, feeling something stir in the air around her, as if the cave itself was waking up.
