I turn. Otto follows my gaze and what wonder he’d had sharpens.
The Tree is split in three pieces. What was once a massive, ageless pillar of magic is now an unraveled heap of charred wood, branches split off, leaves gone.
And at the base, locked beneath a fallen branch, is my brother’s body.
I look away, and hug Liesel to me tighter.
“Everything’s all right now,” I whisper again.
Otto tucks his arms around us both as guards begin to move towards us. I think I hear Brigitta shout a question from farther off, demandingexplanation. And it will come. So much will come now—explanation, momentum, forward motion.
But for now, for this moment, I lean into Otto’s arms and feel Liesel bury her face into my stomach, and—
Movement catches my eyes in the trees surrounding this glen.
Three shapes, nearly translucent, like ghosts in mist. One bent over a walking stick. One proud and rigid. And one smiling, eyes glistening, cheeks damp.
Holda bows her head at me.
Thank you, I hear in my head, her voice familiar, comforting.
I nod at her.
A twist of concern seizes in my chest.Are you leaving now? Did the Tree hold you here? Will I still be able to speak with you?
Her smile is half relief, half pure joy.You can always speak to me, Friederike. Now, I have other people who can speak to me too. Thanks to you and your warrior.
She bows deeper. A long, slow curtsy.
Abnoba mimics her, gray hair rippling.
After a beat, Perchta lowers as well, her face stoic, severe.
I blink, and they vanish.
“Are you all right?” Otto cocks his head into my field of vision.
I smile, cheeks aching, and I nod, because I am. We are.
Under the shadow of the destroyed Origin Tree, in this hidden sanctuary of magic, at the beginning of this promise for a better world, I do the only thing there is left to do.
I thrust up onto my toes and kiss the man I love.
Epilogue
Otto
Three months later
I first came to Trier to infiltrate the hexenjägers and take them down from within. The second time I came to this city, it was to find and kill Dieter Kirch. I have never visited Trier without a mission.
This time is no different.
“Do you think it will be difficult to find them?” Fritzi asks me in a low voice as we pass through the gates of the city. There are guards here, but they are not hexenjägers.
There are no more hexenjägers.
“I’m not sure,” I confess. I veer left, past the remains of the basilica that Fritzi and I blew apart in an attempt to save the accused witches due to be burned under Dieter’s reign of terror. That ancient structure may be rebuilt, although some of the rubble has already been scavenged by resourceful workers looking for cheap materials.
