Page 74 of Unseen Eye
“Oh yeah, forgot about that,” Theo mutters. “Maybe she’s sleeping. Should we kick her?”
“Kick her? Really, Theo?” Izzy’s tone is flat, but there’s amusement there too.
Someone chuckles—soft, but familiar. I recognize it immediately. It’s him.
But I force myself to focus on the map. I can’t pull my attention away—not now. I’m so close. I commit the latest entry to memory. My finger tracing the lines and locations on the map.I imagine a line connecting them, willing my magic to guide me.
“Uh, anyone else notice she’s glowing?” Theo’s voice is muffled, but there’s a tone of wonder in it.
“Well, that’s new,” Izzy’s dry voice cuts through.
“Look,” Callon says, stepping closer. I assume he’s pointing to the map, the one now glowing faintly. Lines and circles of light are beginning to form, tracing paths across the ceiling with a life of their own.
“That’s so cool,” Theo mutters, awe creeping into his voice.
“What is she doing?” Izzy asks, her curiosity piqued.
“She figured something out,” Callon says, and there’s that unmistakable smile in his voice. “Give me a moment.”
“And miss the show?” Izzy replies, her voice playful. “I think not.”
I don’t look away from the map, but I can feel Callon’s approach. There’s a soft thud as books hit the floor, and then I sense him beside me. Our heads are inches apart.
“What do you see?” His voice is low, just above a whisper, meant only for me.
I swallow hard, trying to steady my racing heart. “My dreams. They’re all places on the map,” I whisper back. “I don’t necessarily name them, but the descriptions match. I’ve seen these places, in ways I can’t explain.”
Callon’s breath catches for a moment. I flip through the worn pages of my journal to the stories that match Coire. The names and places blur together, blending in a haze of recognition: ancient strongholds, lost cities, hidden valleys. My fingers trace the words, eager to connect them to the lines forming on the map.
“And then this,” I say, turning to the Skorda entry. The gnomes’ lands are alive with detail—ancient forests where trees speak, rivers shimmering with the essence of time, mountains that sing with the voice of the earth itself. The magic humsbeneath the words, the world folding open in front of me.
“It’s all here,” I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper. “Even Soala, before the war.” The words hang in the air, full of longing and lost beauty. A place of dreams, where the skies were always a serene shade of blue, where rainbows danced across the horizon and harmony prevailed.
For a long time, Callon doesn’t speak. He’s quiet, processing everything, as if trying to make sense of the enormity of what’s unfolding.
“I’ll go get her some food,” Izzy mutters to the room, breaking the silence. I hear the scrape of a chair as she stands.
“I think I’ll join you,” Theo says, his voice suddenly too loud in the quiet room. “Ingrid will be glad to see me.”
Their footsteps fade into the distance, but I don’t look away from the map.
We continue to lay there for a while after they leave the room. Callon is the first to break the silence. “How long have you laying here?” He shifts, flipping himself over onto his knees, his eyes fixed on me as if to make sure I’m still here, still present. He looks down, effectively blocking my view of the map.
I blink, caught off guard by the intensity of his gaze. “Since early this morning,” I respond, my heart doing a stupid flip. Damn heart. “Nice of you to finally show up, by the way. Get tired of avoiding me?”
A brief flash of something—guilt? —crosses his face, gone before I can make sense of it. “We’ll talk about that later,” he says, brushing it off like it’s nothing. But I know there’s more there, more he’s not saying. “Right now, I want to know what you figured out.”
I shrug, suddenly feeling small, even under his steady gaze. “I don’t know. How would I know all these places? Do you know what ‘Gun Choire’ means, by the way?”
His reaction is immediate—his face pales, his eyes widen asif the very air has been sucked from the room. “Who told you that?” His voice is sharp, a tone I’ve never heard from him before, one that doesn’t just ask but demands.
“It’s in my journal,” I say, gesturing toward the worn pages spread across the table, and the one in my hand. “I mention it a few times, but I can’t find it anywhere on the map.”
“It wouldn’t be on the map,” he says, taking the journal from my hands with an urgency that startles me. Without a word, he pulls me up with him, and I find myself sitting close to him now. His voice drops, and the shift in his presence is palpable. “It’s an old name. The gods themselves used to call Valtris that. ‘Gun Choire.’ It means ‘without blame.’ No one has used that name in centuries. It’s never been mentioned anywhere. Not until now.”
Before I can process what he’s said, Izzy and Theo return, Izzy holding a plate of food and Theo with an empty one, his stomach clearly the bigger priority.
“What?” Theo laughs when he sees our confused expressions. “I was hungry. It was a long walk.”
