A Promised Prophecy

Chapter Eighteen

"It's just some man," the one who pointed their sword at me said.

I stayed quiet. If this were before I was supposed to be dead I'd have used my name, looks, celebrity status, whatever I needed to get out of a bind like this. Right now, in the midst of a probable lock down and on the run, I knew better than to run my mouth. I raised my hands to indicate that I wasn't hostile. Given that the person in front of me saw me as a man, I knew James's magic continued to cover my face from detection.

"False alarm," I heard a woman yell to the room. She looked relatively familiar, a sign that I probably recognized her from my apprenticeship with Celeste. Her black hair glistened with a blue hue when highlighted by the lights, and I remembered someone like that but she was only a pre-teen when I turned eighteen. And, if she was studying with me, it had been close to ten years since I'd last seen her.

If I was right, her name was Est. Even though we were part of the same coven and apprentices to Celeste I wouldn't say I was really close to her given the age gap. Still, she was someone I could consider trusting in lieu of Celeste, if I was right about her identity. No one relaxed as she pushed her way through the crowd to get closer. She squatted down and analyzed my face as if she expected me to be hiding my identity with magic. I'd become paranoid. It was as if everyone was out to get me, and it felt safer believing they were. Unless proven otherwise, I needed to keep my identity a secret and hope that witch didn't start a hunt for me given that I was supposed to be dead.

Still, as Est analyzed my face I wondered if she really could tell I was under magical concealment. It felt foolish to think it; there was no way she'd see through the magic...right?

"I know you," she whispered.