Page 38 of Unseen Eye
Izzy’s eyes widen in surprise before she bursts into laughter. “Leprechauns? Really? What are they teaching you over here?”
Callon, once again wearing that mask of indifference, chuckles softly as he sips his drink. “Leprechauns, charming as they might be, are pure myth. But in this fucked-up world, who knows? Anything is possible.”
His eyes twinkle with amusement as he adds, “You’ll find that reality is often stranger than fiction here.”
Besides making me look like an idiot, my outburst helps to ease the tension, at least for the moment.
Izzy, sensing the opportunity to pry, turns her attention back to me. “So, Eva, how did you meet Garet? I’m dying to know.”
Feeling the buzz from the alcohol I’ve downed to cope with the evening, I answer honestly. “We met several years ago at the market in Pinebrook. I literally ran into him, and it turned out he had read the stories I wrote. We’ve been friends since.”
As soon as the words leave my mouth, I realize I’ve made a catastrophic mistake. The temperature at the table plummets, the air thickening with tension. Callon’s gaze snaps to me, his face darkening, his eyes flaring with a barely restrained fire.
“Friends?” His voice comes out dangerously low, each word clipped like the bite of a blade. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”
The table goes deathly quiet. Garet’s expression hardens, his eyes narrowing as his jaw tightens. “Yes, Callon. Friends. That’s all it was.” His tone is steady, but beneath it simmers an anger like lightning waiting to strike.
Izzy, sensing the storm, tries to cut in with a forced smile. “It’s nice to know you two have a history,” she says, her voice a bit too bright. “Must be comforting for Eva to have someone familiar here, right?” She glances at me, eyes practically pleading for me to play along.
I nod awkwardly. “When they aren’t lying to you or locking youin rooms.” I mutter, trying to lighten the mood.
Ah shit, I did it again.
Callon’s eyes flare with rage, his body tensing like a coiled spring. Without warning, he lunges, slamming his fist into Garet’s chest and sending him stumbling backward. Chairs screech against the floor, and in an instant, the table is abandoned as the two men collide.
Garet retaliates with a swing, but Callon blocks it effortlessly, grabbing him by the collar and shoving him against the wall. “So pathetic” Callon growls.
The room erupts into chaos, with guests scrambling to get out of the way. Izzy rushes forward, grabbing Callon’s arm. “Stop!” she commands, but Callon shrugs her off, his attention fully locked on Garet.
“Tell me,” Callon spits through clenched teeth. “How long have you been lying to her?”
Garet’s face twists with fury. “I’m not playing any games, Callon!”
The air between them crackles with animosity, both men breathing heavily as they stare each other down. Just as it seems like Callon might throw another punch, Baron’s voice booms from across the room, commanding everyone’s attention. “Enough!”
The crowd parts as Baron steps forward, his voice sharp. “Enough. Everyone—outside for the presentation.”
The main event. Me.
Chapter Thirteen
My heart pounds like a drumbeat of dread. What if I can’t summon the light? What if I embarrass myself in front of everyone? Worse yet, what if this demonstration kills me? Or, if it doesn’t, Baron will. I feel like a lamb being led to slaughter, and the thought of dying out here, in front of everyone, is too much to bear.
The procession to the fields is surreal—like I’m floating in a waking nightmare. My mind races, replaying every failed attempt over the past few days. I feel queasy, as though I might vomit at any moment. Leigh walks beside me, sensing my unease. “You’ll be fine, Eva. Just breathe,” she whispers, squeezing my hand. Her voice is steady, but the words fall flat.
As we approach the fields, the torches lining the path flicker in the evening breeze, casting long, sinister shadows. They seem to mock me, as though they’re aware of my dread. The castle walls rise up on either side, suffocating in their vastness. The crowd gathers in clusters, their murmurs rising like a wave of curiosity and expectation. A stage stands next to the fields, where I suspect the real entertainment will unfold after my spectacular failure. With each step, my fear deepens. The cold air cuts through my thin dress, making me shiver despite the burning anxiety in my gut. I briefly think about running, but where could I go?
Callon, his jaw clenched, turns to Garet, his voice a harsh whisper that barely conceals his frustration. “You’re really going through with this? Are you out of your mind?” His words are laced with anger, but beneath it—there’s something protective, like he’s ready to rip into Garet. “This is fucked up. You claim you care about her, but this is how you’re treating your futurefiancée?”
Garet doesn’t flinch, his expression unreadable. “We need to know what she can do. This is necessary.”
The crowd murmurs, a low buzz of curiosity and excitement rippling through the air. A figure steps forward, a jester or perhaps a herald, his flamboyant clothes and sharp grin immediately drawing attention. He waves his hands theatrically, a flourish that commands the crowd’s attention.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” he calls, his voice ringing out across the courtyard. “Tonight, we are graced by a spectacle unlike any in recent memory—nay, perhaps unlike any in history! The first light wielder in generations—will stand before you!”
The crowd stirs, whispers turning into gasps of disbelief. Eyes turn to the stage, anticipation growing.
“She is no mere wielder of magic,” the jester continues, his tone rising with each word. “She has the power to shatter the defenses of even the most unyielding wardens! And tonight, you shall witness her—Eva, the light bearer!”
