“Warty told me everyone and everything from Starfall regained their powers. Does that mean your power is restored?” I asked.
Was the bargain completed? That’s the question I desperately wanted to ask.
“No,” she said, her violet eyes fading to a duller purple.
“How? Thanadyn is vanquished,” Hesper cut in.
“The only way to fully restore my power is by vanquishing withering magic entirely. That magic is still alive, and so long as it lives, my magic will never return to me. That is the sacrifice I made. Until wholeness has been restored, I will stay in my limited form. And the Witherings will, too. Your magic, Clara, will open some paths for me. But you cannot save me, let alone a whole realm. But it is the small things—the gardens, the moments shared with good company, if you will—that chip away at the magic that has so long depleted Starfall. It will take a long time, many hands, hopes, and dreams to restore a version of what once was. For it will never be the same. After such tragedy and death, nothing can be restored to that which it was before. Besides, it would be disrespectful to those who died fighting for it to pretend that there was never a fight in the first place.”
Her words settled into the room, hitting each of us in its own way. The Goddess spoke only truth. To hope that full restoration could happen was out of the question—therewas too much history, too much pain for that to be the case. But together and in good time, perhaps light would find its way through the cracks.
“Now, to celebratory matters.” Eldrene’s eyes brightened once more, and she looked at me expectantly. “Your quest is complete. Do you wish to return home?”
Home. Eldrene meant Moss, of course. The reason I’d put one foot in front of the other this entire journey. But home had changed, over time. Just as withering magic would slowly wear away over time. I remembered Ludwig’s words from so long ago, rasped in my ear at Remi’s before he was knocked out cold: “The end awaits you at Dwindle.”
Home, my heart whispered, as I looked at the cottage.
Home, it repeated, as I smiled at Rosie.
As I thought of Dwindle.
As I settled my gaze on Hesper.
My home was everywhere all at once. In the attic bedroom covered in knitting projects, in the lupines covering Moss’s field. In Rosie’s laugh. In Hesper’s smiles. I could be content in any of those places, but there was one thing I could not be without.
“I think I already am home,” I said to Eldrene. “With her.” I looked to Hesper.
Eldrene gave a bow of her head, seemingly unsurprised.
“And you?” She turned her attention toward Hesper. My body tensed.
“I, too, am home,” Hesper said. She was perfectly still, but her eyes betrayed the warring in her soul.
“You have a bargain, Altanfall,” Eldrene said. I began to braid the frayed edges of my apron, the sweat gathering inmy palms making the task difficult. My nerves stood on end, every part of me keening to the side, ready to fall or to soar. “It cannot be broken.”
And so, I fell. My soul wilted, my newfound magic screamed in my chest. It could not end with Hesper leaving. Even if she did, though, I would go with her. I would follow her if the Forest Train would have me. If not, well, I’d just have to make another plan.
Eldrene stood, extending her hand to Hesper. Hesper warily took the offer, and Eldrene led them both outside into the setting sun.
They spoke for hours—the golden sun fading into swathes of purple and blue before the stars began to sparkle. Agnus and I both decided to make everyone dinner as the fae warrior and the Goddess chatted into the night. I busied myself with cobbling together a hearty stew. But Agnus stopped me when she saw that I’d peeled an entire potato into the rubbish bin, only a sliver of it left for dinner.
“Knead the dough, girl. It’ll smooth out your edges.”
I listened, pounding the dough so hard, a plume of flour rose into the air and settled atop Agnus and me. Soon, the entire Forest Train was in the kitchen, along with Angus and Rosie. Usually, this would send me into a frenzy of feeling crowded and unable to breathe. But my hands were in the dough, squishing away all my thoughts of Hesper having to leave on another quest and never coming back.
Ridiculous, my heart chided.
You don’t get to say that today, I argued back.You almost left me alone with a force of darkness the likes of which the realm has never seen.
Too soon, my heart said, offended.
Well!
After the bowls were licked clean, Angus took Rosie and Ludwig back into town to settle in for the evening. It took much convincing to get Rosie to leave, but she eventually listened. I told her I’d come straight to her room tomorrow morn, and she gave me a drowsy hug goodnight. Falling into her embrace was a fire on a winter’s solstice—a comforting balm to the day, a good ending to a book.
It was just me, wide awake and staring at the wall, and Eldrene’s Train—most of whom looked to be sound asleep.
The cottage door opened once more. Eldrene’s Train rose immediately, crowding into position around her. She was leaving. Was Hesper leaving, too? I wasn’t ready. I didn’t have my monologue written down yet to plead for Eldrene’s patience. Or mercy. Or whatever I needed to say to a Goddess.
