Page 71 of Haunt Me, Maybe

Gideon most likely felt some of Aven’s minor flares, and it drew his attention to this part of the map, so to speak. But he isn’t exactly sure where she is yet. Hence the feelers.

Yet another thing I didn’t understand. How were feelers different from the magic allowing Gideon to warp my town? Aven’s chin rested on her kneecaps, as if she could disappear completely, but she took pity on me—on the absolute confusion that I knew covered my face.

“Feelers mean he’s no longer casting wide, but deep,” she explained. “It means he has a faint signal and is now trying to triangulate it.”

That made more sense, although the explanation almost hurt to hear. The attic went still around us, even the drafts seemed to hesitate. I didn’t like hearing how close this monster was, and the inn wasn’t a fan either. I didn’t interrupt, no matter how much it was killing me to keep my rage inside. Fenn stayed silent as well, allowing his charge to continue.

“He doesn’t know where I am,” she reiterated. “Not yet. But he’s testing pressure points and places where magic pools and echoes.”

“The orchard,” I said.

“Yes.”

“The farm.”

She nodded.

“And here?” My eyes instinctively moved around the attic to the beams and the innate wards sunk into the very bones of this place—the threads of magic I spent decades weaving through.

No, Fenn cut in. We would know. If he brushed this place directly, we would feel it.

“You’re certain?” I asked, and Fenn glared at my audacity to question him.

Fuck it. He wasn’t all-knowing. Aven remained silent, the words she’d yet to say aloud forming behind those purple eyes. Finally, she unwrapped the death grip on her legs and set her feet lightly on the rug beside the bed. Still afraid, but…there was a spark of fire there.

“Gideon is narrowing.”

The word settled between us like a blade. Fenn gave a disgruntled croak and hopped onto the chair to be a little closer to his witch. I pushed off the wall, needing that nearness as well.

Fine. Since neither of them were going to say it…“Pretend I know absolutely nothing about magic. What does narrowing mean?”

Aven sighed. “When you search magically, you start broad. Then you eliminate. Then you refine.”

There are probably similar omens in the surrounding towns, Fenn added. He sensed the area Aven is in, sent his magic to poke and prod—which left its mark—and is now intensifying his search. The ancient signatures all over this town are most likely confusing him.

I was never more thankful to live in a town soaked in magic than I was right now. I took a few minutes to go over their explanations. It didn’t take much to assume that the bad omens meant Gideon was done eliminating and already on to the next stage.

“How long until he refines to you?” I asked Aven.

She didn’t answer right away, and warning alarms went off in my head. I watched her face, but she held her emotions close to her chest and gave nothing away. Not even the ribbon gave me a hint.

“If he’s careful,” she said, slowly. “Weeks.”

Weeks? Fuck.

“And if he’s impatient?” I pushed.

Her throat worked, and I could tell it was an effort for her to meet my gaze.

“Days.”

The word echoed louder than it should. The room was tomb silent but not the stunned kind. The thinking kind. I had a feeling Fenn and Aven were already plotting an escape plan, and I refused to let that be the only option on the table. Crossing the room, I stopped in front of her.

“Okay.”

She blinked at me. “That’s it? We explain all of that, and all you have to say is, ’okay’?”

“What else did you want me to say?” My voice was steady only because it had to be. “That it’s time to panic? To pack? Should I suggest you run?”