“Isn’t that the one from the Void?” Jace asks.
Wes nods slowly. “Yeah. What’s it doing here?”
Gray’s voice is rougher than usual. “No idea. But it saved us. All of us.”
We all nod in agreement, watching as the fox circles Theo’s boots once—almost playful—then trots straight to Bree.
She kneels, and the fox presses its head against her knee.
Her Ether shifts, almost welcoming the creature, while the raven on her shoulder ruffles its feathers, leaning forward slightly.
Rhett’s voice is quiet. “We never got to say thank you.”
The fox looks up, ears twitching. A pulse of light moves through its fur—silver, soft, warm.
“You just did,” Bree whispers.
The trees open into a clearing, and the well appears.
It’s smaller than I expected—stone rim worn smooth by time, veined with light that pulses faintly like a heartbeat. Daisies bloom thick around the base, their petals shimmering with silver and black threads woven through the white.
The air smells like rain and ozone. Like magic held in suspension.
Everyone goes silent.
Even the Ether hum quiets, as if the forest is holding its breath.
Bree walks forward slowly, the fox padding beside her, the raven still perched on her shoulder. She stops at the edge of the well, staring down into the darkness.
I move closer, careful not to disturb whatever’s happening here.
“It’s beautiful,” I say quietly.
She doesn’t look at me. “It’s alive.”
A hiss breaks the quiet.
The snake glides from the grass, crossing my boots before I can react. I freeze, every instinct screaming don’t move, but it doesn’t stop. Just continues forward, climbing Bree’s wrist in one fluid motion.
The moment it settles, something changes.
All three familiars are touching her now—the raven on her shoulder, the fox pressed against her leg, the snake coiled on her wrist.
The last of the black begins to move—slow at first, then faster. The darkness unspools, drawn through all three of them until it fades into nothing.
In a blink, she’s radiant. Pure silver light.
The air shifts and the whole forest exhales.
No one moves.
Bree looks lighter. Not brighter, not stronger—just free.
She doesn’t claim the magic.
The magic claims her.
Bree reaches out, fingers brushing the daisies’ glow. Her voice trembles, reverent. “It’s been so long since I saw something so beautiful.”
