And then...
“Found it!”
Wen’s voice was a screech of triumph. She was holding the journal up, hands trembling slightly.
“What?” Riley scrambled over. “What is it?”
“An entry. From my grandmother’s personal journal.” Wen looked up at us, stunned. “I should have done this years ago. Holy shit.” She shook her head.
“What does it say?” I demanded.
“Read it.” Wen held the journal out. “All of you. Read it.”
We gathered around the journal. Four heads bent over faded handwriting, reading words written decades ago.
March 15th
Today we used the magic we swore we would never use again.
We made that vow years ago, Louis and I. After everything that happened, after we crossed to the human world and decided to leave that life behind forever. We said we were done. We said the magic would die with us.
But a witch from Lytopia found us. Contacted us through the old channels we thought were dead. She said the Mirabelles needed our help. That they were about to die. That they were being hunted.
Hunted. Because they discovered facts that needed to stay buried. Facts related to the crown.
We were close once, the Mirabelles and us. Before Louis and I crossed over. Before we chose this life. When they called for help, we couldn’t say no.
So we opened the portal one last time.
We expected a family to walk through. Parents, children, servants perhaps. We had prepared rooms, supplies, everything they would need to start over in this world.
But only a child came through.
A little girl. Covered in blood. Screaming that her parents were dead.
Riley Mirabelle.
We closed the portal immediately. Got what information we could from the child: fragmented, terrified, barely coherent. Her parents had been killed. Murdered in their own home. She’d escaped through a hidden passage they’d prepared for exactly this scenario.
She was alone. Orphaned. Traumatized.
We couldn’t keep her ourselves. Louis and I, we’re too old, too connected to the magical world. If whoever killed her parents came looking, they would find us. Find her.
So we called a friend. Someone who knew about our world but lived apart from it. A lone wolf named Maris Hawkins. She’d left Lytopia decades ago, cut all ties, made a life for herself in the human realm. She was safe. Hidden. Perfect.
Maris agreed to take the child. To raise her as her own. To keep her safe and hidden until... until when? We don’t know. Maybe forever. Maybe until the danger passes.
We gave Riley to Maris, along with the only thing that came through the portal with her: a watch bearing the Mirabellecrest. The child clutched it so tightly we couldn’t pry it from her fingers.
This is the end for us. Louis and I have made a new vow: no more magic. Ever. Whatever power we have left will die with us. We will not open another portal. We will not contact Lytopia. We will live out our days as ordinary humans in this ordinary town.
May the goddess protect Riley Mirabelle. And may she never have to learn the truth of what she is.
No one spoke.
Riley was staring at the page, her face pale, her breathing shallow. Through the bond, I felt the storm of her emotions: shock, grief, confusion, and underneath it all, a strange sense of relief. Finally, answers.
“My godmother,” Riley whispered. “Maris. She was a wolf. She knew all along.”
