“I had a flashing premonition earlier. When I returned that constellation book to your library, I touched the chair you always sit in to read.” She paused, glancing toward the chalked witch’s wheel. “And? What was it?” “A sculpture of a woman with a hooded cloak veiling her face. The sculpture stood in a field, surrounded by woods.” “Weird.” “My visions are always weird, but that wasn’t even the creepiest part. There were vines wrapping around her like they were alive, like they were trying to strangle her. Or keep her anchored to the ground.” Vines again? That was strange. What did it mean?
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