Gethin fixed me with a look that made my heart race. "We need to lay a trap," he said.

"A trap?" I said. I wasn't sure whether to be intrigued or worried.

Gethin nodded. "Yes, a trap. We need the person doing this to believe that they have unsettled you enough to make a mistake."

I furrowed my brow. "What kind of mistake would that be?"

Gethin pushed himself off the wall and folded his arms. "You're going to pretend to leave Llyncroft."

"Pretend?" I said.

"Exactly," he said. "We'll make it look like you are leaving Llyncroft for good because of the threats."

"But I can't leave," I said, nodding toward the invisible barrier.

"That's the beauty of it," Gethin said with a smile. "You don't have to. We just need to make our suspect think you are. If they believe you are vulnerable and alone on the road, they might try something."

I considered his words. It was a dangerous game to play, and I wasn't sure I knew all the rules or the players.

"And where do you come into this?" I asked.

"I'll be close by, keeping a close eye on things." Gethin's voice was reassuring. "I won't let anything happen to you."

The plan was crazy enough that it just might work, but I would need to trust Gethin to keep me safe if it all went wrong.

Gideon spoke up. "I can help too. There are ways we can make sure Evie is safe without making it look like we are trying too hard."

Gethin nodded at him. "Good. What do you say Evie?"

I bit my lip. How could I leave Willow Grove with a house full of guests and more due to arrive? It was one thing to play bait, another to do it in front of an audience.

I ran a hand through my hair. I wanted my guests to have a peaceful stay, not to find themselves in the middle of a sting operation. I glanced at the garden through the window. The magnolia leaves were fluttering in the breeze. Could I disturb this peace?

"What are you thinking?" Gideon's voice interrupted my thoughts.

I turned to face him. "I'm just thinking about the guests," I said. "How can we do this without scaring them or putting them in danger?"

Gideon leaned against the doorframe, arms folded. "We'll need to be careful," he said. Let's plan your 'departure' when guests are away.

I nodded. That could work. Most of our guests liked to go into town or take long walks along the cliff paths during the day. "And we'll need to keep it from Agnes and the others," I said.

Gethin's voice came from behind me. "Agnes is smart," he said. "But she knows what's at stake here."

I sighed. They had a point. We'd have to be very, very careful to make sure this plan didn't go wrong.

"Okay," I said. "I guess we do it when they're out and we keep it quiet."

Gethin nodded. "We'll keep Willow Grove safe. You can head up to the farm and to see the foals."

I pushed a stray lock of hair behind my ear when the front door burst open, letting in a rush of wind and Oliver Pembrooke's boundless enthusiasm. He was waving a bundle of papers like a sword, his eyes dancing with excitement.

"Evie! You're going to see foals, can I come too?"

Before I had the chance to continue, he strode into the conservatory and said, "You won't believe what we've found!"

I couldn't help but smile at his energy. "Found? At the town hall, was it?"

"Yes!" He flung himself down on the sofa opposite me, the papers splaying across his lap. "Elias and I were going through some old records when we found something incredible." He raised his eyebrows, waiting to share his news.

I leaned forward. "Tell me then."

He rifled through the papers until he found the one he was looking for. He handed it to me with a flourish. "It's about shadow weavers, and arcanite."

I was immediately interested. "And what does it say?"

"Well," Oliver said, "it says that shadow weavers can use arcanite to make them much more powerful. But—and this is the really interesting part—there are records of the mineral being used to control them."

"Control them?" I said, my mind racing.

"Yeah!" Oliver said. "It's true! There's evidence of it. Sometimes arcanite was made into artefacts that could, like, affect their powers or even subdue them."

"Isn't it great? I'm surprised you weren't there with us at the town hall; Elias said you might be interested."

I looked up as Margaret Pembrooke and Elias Greystone entered the conservatory. Margaret's cheeks were rosy from the sun and her chestnut curls were windswept from the walk back up the hill to Willow Grove. Elias was slightly out of breath. I wondered if it was from walking up the hill trying to keep up with Oliver.

"Oh, there you are!" Oliver said, bounding over to greet them. "We were just talking about our awesome discovery!"

Margaret smiled at Elias, who was catching his breath. "I gathered as much. You don't stop bouncing when you've found something new," she said, smiling at her son. "Though I suspect poor Elias would have preferred a more leisurely pace rather than chasing a whirling dervish."

Elias waved a hand. "It's fine," he said. "I thought I was fit until I tried to keep up with a teenager."

I chuckled at the thought of the stately Elias trying to match Oliver's youthful stride. It was a testament to Oliver's passion that Elias had been swept along with it.

"So, what's this exciting discovery?" Margaret asked, sitting down next to me on the sofa, encouraging him to explain.

Oliver launched into an explanation, waving the papers he held. "It's about shadow weavers, and arcanite and Evie and Gethin are going up to see the foals. Can we go too?"

How had he heard our plan when he was consumed with his own discovery?

Margaret responded before I could, "You can only see the foals if Evie gives you permission."

Elias nodded caught up in Oliver's enthusiasm. "Yes, there are reports of arcanite being made into artefacts that could affect or even subdue a shadow weaver's powers."

"But why would anyone want to do that?" Margaret asked. "Shadow weavers are such gentle souls."

"Power," Elias said. "Or perhaps fear. People don't like what they don't understand. They say Shadow Weavers can actually turn themselves into shadow and smoke, although I've never believed that rumour."

I shivered. Wasn't Fiona a Shadow Weaver? She didn't strike me as a gentle soul as Margaret had said, but I didn't like the idea of anyone controlling her either. Why would anyone want to control or harm her, and why would they use her against me? 

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