Rowan wrapped her hands around her fresh drink when it arrived, letting the cold glass steady her. She exhaled slowly. “Even the history books get grim.”

  Rowan gave a small shake of her head, eyes lowering for a moment. “During that time, there was a lot of that going on.”

  Francis lifted her glass, took a slow sip, and set it down with deliberate care. “It’s true. Times were awful for anybody who didn’t follow Catholic tenets.”

  Chris wrapped his arm behind Francis and rested it along the back of the booth. He lifted his beer with his free hand. “Church leaders’d roll into little villages with a goon squad and sell the people on their way bein’ the only way.” His jaw tightened. “They pushed folks to abandon the old ways… pinche hombres.”

  Rowan nodded, her fingertip tracing a line through the condensation on her glass. “Villagers were encouraged to turn in their wise woman to be ‘redeemed.’” She looked up. “Redemption meant tying her to a stake and burning her alive.”

  David drew in a quiet breath before he spoke. “She was a wise woman… and they turned her over.”

  Rowan angled her head. “What I can’t figure out is why you saw that burning. There were so many.” She tapped her glass once. “Why that one?”

  Francis reached over and touched David’s arm lightly. “Darlin’, show her your necklace.”

  David reached into his pocket and brought out the pendant, setting it on the table. The silver caught the warm bar light in uneven glints.

  Rowan leaned in at once, her hand hovering a moment before she picked the pendant up. “Whoa. Where did you get this?”

  “At work. I found it in my locker.”

  Rowan turned the pendant over carefully. “Is it yours?”

  He shook his head.

  “Do you know who it belongs to?”

  “First time I’ve ever seen it,” he said.

  Rowan studied its markings. “Morgana wrote about this. Silver, with the three phases of the moon. It’s her coven’s sign.” She angled it toward the overhead light. “Maiden, Mother, Crone—waxing crescent, full moon, waning crescent.”

  Francis nodded toward Rowan’s purse. “Show her the cover again, sugar.”

  Rowan slipped the tome free and passed it over. Francis opened it to the etched cover and turned it so David could see. “The triple moon is modern,” she said, tapping a corner. “Back in Morgana’s day they used the triskelion—three spirals bound together.”

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  David glanced between the pendant and the etching on the book’s cover. “In my dreams, she wasn’t wearing anything.”

  Rowan slowed her movements, holding the pendant like its weight carried meaning. The light slid along its curves as she turned it. “She hid it,” she said. “Morgana wrote that this necklace was a gift from Hecate herself. It tracks the moon’s phase in real time.”

  David’s hand paused on the table, fingers curling slightly as he watched the pendant shift in her grip.

  David looked from the pendant to Francis, his brow tightening. “Who is Hecate?”

  Francis set her glass down with a gentle clink. “She’s known by a lot of names, darlin’. Queen of Witches. Mother of Shadows. Guardian of the Crossroads.” A warm smile touched her lips. “All of ’em point to the same thing — she’s the one who stands beside you when choices get hard.”

  David let out a short, unsteady breath. “So… like telling me I should get divorced if I ever want to live my true self?”

  Chris’s mouth quirked into a quick, knowing grin. “Or like telling you the woman sittin’ in front of you is the one you should marry.”

  Francis rested her hands on the table, her voice gentle. “She’s the Goddess of choice, darlin’. She doesn’t push. She just shows the options. What you do with ’em is on you.”

  David eased back a little, his brow tightening as he looked at her. “Okay,” he said, though the word came out slower than before.

  Francis nodded once. “She’s also the Great Mother—creation starts with her.”

  David huffed out a dry breath, one brow lifting. “So the big bang and everything else… that’s from them together? Not just the one father I got lectured about growing up?”

  Francis lifted a hand in a small, calming gesture. “Different dogmas, darlin’. No need to turn this into a sermon.” A burst of laughter rose from a nearby table, briefly cutting through the heaviness.

  She glanced across the room but focused back on David. “Let’s not wander too far down that road.”

  Rowan let out a short, dry huff. “Yeah, we could be here all night debating religion.” She tapped the edge of her glass. “Let’s stick to what we can actually study.”

  Rowan held the pendant up again, reverent in the way she turned it. “Morgana wrote that only high priestesses of Avalon were entrusted with these.” She lifted her eyes to David. “This is hers — and finding it here… that’s not something that should be possible.”

  David drew back slightly, eyes flicking between her and the pendant. “So Avalon… all of that is real?”

  Chris took a long pull from his beer and tipped the bottle toward the pendant. “Morgana is Morgana le Fay, chica. Fair?folk priestess. Helped Arthur, got in his way plenty too, then carried him off to Avalon when things ended. Claro?”

  David let out a rough laugh and dragged a hand through his hair. A burst of chatter rose from the bar behind them, sharp against their quiet table. “I always figured Avalon was just a story,” he said. “And now you’re telling me Hecate’s as real as the people sittin’ here.”

  Francis nodded toward the pendant. “That’s why it looks a mite lopsided.”

  David narrowed his eyes at it. “Yeah… you’re right. Why is that?”

  Rowan held the charm steady between her fingers. “Because it shifts to match the sky. Morgana wrote that it tracks the moon’s phase in real time.”

  Chris tipped his chin toward the windows. “Mira, chica—look at the charm. Then go look outside. See what shape the moon’s in.”

  David glance back at the widow wall and grinned as he focused back on Chris.

  He let out a short, incredulous laugh. “This still sounds crazy,” he said, sliding out from the booth. “But since you’re buyin’ the drinks, I’ll play along.”

  He slipped the chain over his head as he walked toward the windows. A sudden chill jumped through the silver, sharp enough to make him flinch. He glared at the pendant and shook his head. He headed toward the wide glass wall, the bar’s hum fading behind him with each step.