Page 107 of Magical Mission

What if the hatred wasn’t even his?

The thought chilled me.

Because if that were true, then breaking the circle wouldn’t just free Gideon’s magic. It wouldopen a doorto something far worse.

And if he wasn’t the one behind it all… then who was?

Whatwas?

I shivered and pulled the quilt tighter, even as the hearth flickered a little brighter behind me.

I didn’t want to feel pity for him, especially not after what he’d done to my father and to Keegan and countless others…not after the curse.

Not after what I saw in my dad’s eyes when we spoke of Gideon, as the betrayal dug so deep, it had changed the shape of his heart.

But pity wasn’t the same as forgiveness.

And questions weren’t the same as sympathy.

I didn’t have tolikeGideon to wonder what had broken him.

Or what he’d been trying to protect before he’d become something to be feared, because nothing twists that viciously unless it starts as something thatbled.

“Maybe he never meant to do this,” I murmured.

My dad snorted in his sleep, but didn’t stir.

I looked down at the orb one more time and whispered, “Maybe hetriedto stop it.”

And failed.

Just like she had.

Just like I might.

I hated that thought.

But I couldn’t let it go.

Or perhaps, Stonewick failed him.

Because the more I pulled at this thread, the more it wound around things that didn’t make sense, like his silence at the boundary, the look in his eyes, the restraint he showed when he could’ve pushed harder.

Maybe the true threat was deeper than Gideon.

Maybe it was still watching.

Still waiting.

And stillbending the circle.

One piece at a time.

The room was still, too still.

Even the fire had gone quiet, with its flames low and thoughtful. The orb hadn’t stirred since the last vision, and my dad curled into a tight, protective knot near the hearth like he was guarding the silence itself.

And me? I sat in the middle of it, staring at nothing, my thoughts drifting to the Hedge.