‘My onlycleanshirt!’
‘You see what I have to put up with?’ Sember rolls her eyes. ‘Anyway, I formally offer you an assignment, Brielle Tresillian. We have need of your services in the Skylan court. Although it is alittledifferent from what you are used to dealing with.’
‘I accept,’ Brielle says, breaking apart a piece of bread. ‘I was hoping to travel there and see Kell before moving on.’
‘Excellent,’ Sember says with a firm nod. ‘You see, Heath? Not so hard.’
‘Just wait until you tell her what the assignment really is,’ Heath murmurs. ‘And then see if she bolts like the rest of the witches you’ve tried unsuccessfully to hire.’
Brielle sits back, takes a swig of tea and fixes Sember with an appraising look. ‘What’s the nature of the assignment?’
‘Well, Hunter, it concerns an ambassador, another court and an unexpected disappearance …’
a week later, when eli’smagic is replenished, he, Tanith and I traverse to Highborn. The witches are everywhere, the watch are few and, as we enter the palace, I realise how vital it is that a ruling council is swiftly established. There are merchants lurking outside the court, their own personal guard surrounding them. Without the power of the witches from multiple Arnhem covens to keep them in check, I’m sure some of them would have tried to form a new ruling council themselves.
After four hours of debate, where merchants speak, where the witches send their Malefants, and Tanith and I represent the interest of creatures, the new ruling council of three is chosen. Hillary Tresillian will represent witches and the covens. Tanith will represent the interests of creatures. And a merchant called Gorran Lisk, a man with an interest in the stability of Arnhem, will represent humans. His gruff acceptance of the role (without pomp or ego) and his promise to be a caretakerof the isles and help us prosper if we agree to no longer harry the merchant vessels wins my vote. I thank him with a solemn handshake afterwards, and he bows over my hand, muttering his humble thanks. I look to the three of them – witch, creature, human – and hope we have done the right thing. Only time will tell.
I return to Rosevear the next day with Eli by my side. Kai is ready to take up his place once more as our leader, our strength. And I know now, deep in the marrow of my bones, where I belong. Where I want to be.
Rosevear.
The isle I love, my home, my heart. Cut me and I still bleed all the colours of Rosevear, the navy blue of the surrounding sea, the bright yellow of the gorse flower, the gentle mauve of the heather. And now also the shades of ruin, of charcoal and burning and smoulder. As my people and I land back on the beach and wander through the ransacked village, it is no more than rubble. No more than a collection of past terrors.
A tear traces the shape of my left cheekbone, sorrow cracking open my heart afresh, but Eli’s hand remains in mine the whole time. ‘No one can take this from you now, Mira. And I’m by your side.’
I nod, turning to him, and he dips his head for an unhurried kiss. ‘Thank you. I needed to hear that.’
‘My strength is yours, whenever you have a need.’
‘And mine yours,’ I say, leaning into him briefly,before we continue up the hill to see how the meeting house has fared.
There is so much to do, but we begin to rebuild. All through the spring and the summer, all the way into autumn, we rebuild and we rally. The fisherfolk go out, landing their catch. I help mend the nets and Eli sends builders and craftsfolk to aid us. There are supplies sent from Highborn – Gorran Lisk’s signature on each shipment of pearly glass sheets for our windows – fabric for our backs and sails, even musical instruments so we may begin to enjoy our free time and find some peace and healing.
I visit Penrith and discover the same there, the people slowly turning the tide on their ill fortune. We get together as we used to, celebrating the harvest scratched from our fields, lighting a bonfire and singing folk songs late into the night. This time, the people of Ennor and Penscalo join us, and I swear they could hear our voices in Port Trenn, all joined as one. The Fortunate Isles.
In months, we have habitable homes. Built one at a time. The meeting house is salvaged, the stores replenished for the long winter months. All because of the bargain I made. All because I followed my heart and trusted, even after I had been betrayed by another.
Captain Leggan eludes us still. Gone to ground somewhere, possibly rallying support for a comeback. Let him burn in his self-righteous bitterness. I am one of the seven still, my people around me. The watch didn’t break us. We are home.
Each evening, as the sun wanes, I wander up to my father’s grave marker. I sit by and look out at the sea, sometimes calm and temperate, sometimes frothing and vicious. Always fickle. The sea has a heart that is never entirely at rest, just like the heart that beats inside my own chest. I wait until shadows begin to rake the cliff, until Eli steps out from one. He comes to share the sunset with me, as he does every day. It has become the time I look forward to the most, when my soul is whole again, as the dusk dances across the sky.
He hunkers down to sit beside me, brushing a kiss across my temple before I turn my head, his lips finding mine. I lean into the kiss, his scent enveloping me as his arms gather me in. I trace his jawline with my fingertips, lingering in this moment. When we part, I stay in his arms, warmth spreading as a glow from my chest. I have never felt more grounded, more loved and whole than with him. ‘How did it go today?’
I smile. Always the same question, the same kiss. Our new routine. And, today, I hand him a bun studded with apple pieces. ‘Agnes’s first batch of apple buns, from her new bakery. Her father is enjoying the building work still. Says he’s found his calling.’
Eli laughs softly, accepting the bun, then breaking it in half to pass back to me. We eat in silence for a few minutes, watching a gull swoop out to sea. ‘There are ripples and murmurings across the continent. Unrest. Brielle remains with Dreska and Inesh; they will not be returning to Ennor just yet.’
‘Will it come here?’ I ask, turning to him.
He shrugs. ‘Perhaps. The Malefant is aware. Lowri is keeping her in check, reminding her that she speaks for all. Not just her coven.’
‘Magic, then.’
‘Yes,’ he says. ‘Magic is showing up everywhere in humans. A gift and a curse in equal measure.’
‘Power to be controlled …’
‘Or contained. Or, if it was up to some, exploited.’
