Page 86 of Innocent Until Proven Witch

"My friends," he says smoothly, and several merchants raise their glasses in return. He gestures toward the harbor. "You've traveled far. I appreciate the effort."

Polite laughter ripples through the group.

"And I promise it will be worthwhile," he continues.

The confidence in his voice catches my attention—not because of what he says, but because of the certainty underneath it.

One merchant laughs. "You sound very sure of yourself."

Aldric's smile only grows. "I am."

Most people hear confidence in that answer. I hear something else.

Expectation.

The distinction chills me far more than it should.

"Moonhaven possesses opportunities unlike any other port," Aldric says, and several buyers nod along.

"And you're offering those opportunities?" another asks.

"I've been building them for years," he says, chuckling.

My stomach tightens. The words sound harmless, almost reasonable. Nobody else reacts. I do, because I know what he has hidden, stolen, and already destroyed to get here.

"And soon," he says, pausing just long enough to be noticed, "everyone will understand exactly what I have."

Several merchants exchange curious glances.

"I possess the finest product you'll ever find," he says, and the crowd laughs approvingly, applause following as others join in. The atmosphere stays celebratory.

Only I feel the chill crawling down my spine.

The word echoes inside my head—my grandmother's journals, the relic, the storms, the disappearances, the attacks. Every piece aligns in an instant. Aldric isn't talking about business. He is talking about control, about power, about whatever he intends to unleash on a town that trusts him.

The disturbance slams into my awareness again, hard enough that I physically stagger. The crowd doesn't notice. Aldric does. Our eyes meet, only briefly, but long enough. His smile never changes, and that is what terrifies me most.

He knows that I understand, and he isn't worried in the slightest.

Not worry nor suspicion. Certainty.

Aldric looks like a man whose plan is already moving, already unfolding, already beyond stopping.

The attack has begun, and the thought lands with clarity. Not tomorrow. Not later. Now.

The disturbance, the pressure, the confidence, the timing—everything points to the same answer. We are already too late.

My pulse surges as I turn from the crowd, the sea practically screaming beneath my senses. Whatever Aldric has started is accelerating, and every instinct inside me ignites at once.

Find Finn and warn him.

I push through the crowd, ignoring the complaints, ignoring the startled looks thrown my way. The festival blurs around me—music, lanterns, laughter—none of it matters anymore. My heart pounds violently as the disturbance keeps growing, spreading, building with every step I take.

Ahead, the streets overflow with visitors, and I force my way through them with one thought repeating endlessly in my mind.

Because whatever Aldric has set in motion, Moonhaven is about to learn the truth, and if we don't stop him in time, the festival will become the perfect stage for a disaster decades in the making.

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