I thanked the bartender with a simple nod and slowly stood up, trying not to draw attention to myself. I pulled my hood over my head and moved quietly through the crowd as I heard Cybill continue talking: "What you are experiencing now is cataclysmic in nature. The witch has powers that are unparalleled throughout history. She steals the powers of all her victims before claiming their lives, effectively making her the most powerful witch in the world."
She spoke as if she was preaching to her followers and, with every face I passed, I could tell they were soaking it all in.
"My prophecies have foretold her rise and her downfall. You must heed my warnings. I can protect you from the death and destruction she will impose on this land. Silverleaf will stand strong."
I couldn't help but cringe at Cybill's announcement. Maybe I was still paranoid from the test to enter, but it felt like a bluff and one that I couldn't prove wrong. It was all very doomsday and we're all gunna die unless we followed her instructions. Classic case of manipulation but nothing I could prove.
I made it to the stairs and looked outside. The sun had set and it was dark. With minimal streetlights, the forest atmosphere of Silverleaf was hauntingly quiet. The brisk night air blew through the window I broke to get inside the building. From this side of the door I could see that they had not only locked it, but baricaded it from the inside. My only way out was the same way I came in. Just as I turned to close the secret door behind me, I noticed James rushing up the stairs.
"Wait," he stopped me.
"I don't find Silverleaf to be safe right now," I countered. There was no telling how much James believed the same words Cybill spoke and, while he disagreed with her in the bar, it was his job as the leader of the coven to protect Silverleaf. I needed to get away from Cybill and maybe James too, but if he wanted to talk, it would have to be somewhere I felt safe. "I think it best we talk further in the Vault if you have anything to say to me."
I didn't stop moving and neither did he. He continued after me and grabbed my arm before I could crawl back out through the window.
"Please, wait. I need to talk to you," he lowered his voice and whispered. There was something about the way he looked at me. It could've been his pleading eyes, or the way his grip on my arm was felt soft enough to not hurt me but firm enough to keep me in place. Whatever it was, I actually stopped and listened. He leaned in close before whispering as quietly as he could. "I'm not sure when I'll be able to sneak away again. I need your help, I think Cybill is lying."