‘Didn’t you say he used to come here in the summers, before you were born?’ Gwen asked, as gently as she could, wishing Olivia weren’t there so she could go to Isobelle’s side. ‘He must have been visiting Tabitha and her mother. Until …’
‘Until they found out he had started another family.’ Isobelle’s voice sounded hollow. ‘Until they found out about us, and Tabitha’s mother went mad.’
Quietly, her shoulders began to shake, and she buried her face more tightly in her hands.
Gwen rose to her feet and glanced at Olivia, who was already standing as well. Olivia looked between them, lipcaught between her teeth, obviously wanting to go to her charge’s side. But she only nodded at Gwen, and slipped quietly from the room.
Gwen knelt down before the bed, reaching out to take Isobelle’s wrists in her hands, running her thumbs along the joint where her palms still shielded her eyes. She said nothing, thinking of the way Isobelle had held her in their shared dream, that golden feeling of warmth linking them. Closing her eyes, she tried to imagine sending that warmth into Isobelle via their joined hands.
I love you, she thought fiercely.And I’m right here.
And somehow, Isobelle seemed to sense it. With a sob, she abandoned the edge of the bed and threw herself into Gwen’s arms with such force Gwen very nearly toppled over backwards. Isobelle pressed her face against Gwen’s neck and shook with the intensity of her feelings, as Gwen tightened her arms around her.
Slowly, the quaking body in her arms began to quiet again, and with a loud, wet sniff, Isobelle lifted her head a little. ‘I’ve got snot all over you,’ she mumbled.
Gwen huffed a little laugh, brushing at Isobelle’s wet cheeks with her thumb. ‘It’s an improvement over dragon guts and sea monster ink.’
Isobelle swallowed and sat back on her heels a little. They were both kneeling, legs interposed, and Isobelle rested her hands on the tops of Gwen’s thighs. But her gaze was troubled rather than heated.
‘What do I do now?’ she whispered, sounding so lost that Gwen’s heart quaked inside her.
Helplessly, Gwen shook her head. ‘I don’t know. I think … I think, for now, you … wait. Rest. Heal. Keep these truths somewhere safe to turn over and process slowly … just don’t bottle them up somewhere deep down. I know for a fact that doesn’t work.’ She offered Isobelle a tentative, if somewhat wry, smile.
Isobelle’s answering twitch of the lips was very small indeed. ‘No one is who I thought they were,’ she mumbled. ‘My father is a man devoted to hunting people like me. My best friend is an agent sent to monitor whether I become a threat. And I … I am something different, too. Nothing is what it was.’
Gwen caught at Isobelle’s hand, and lifted it to press Isobelle’s palm against her cheek. ‘I am,’ she said firmly, ducking her head to catch Isobelle’s eye. ‘I am exactly who you know me to be. And so are you. You may know more about yourself now, have a new calling, but you are still you, Isobelle.’
Isobelle’s gaze avoided hers.
Gwen’s thumb brushed the back of Isobelle’s hand. ‘This doesn’t change who you are,’ she whispered. ‘Only what you know. Isobelle … you’ve been a hope witch since the morning I met you. You’ve probably been one since the day you were born.’
‘Hope witch …’ Isobelle’s lashes flew up, her eyes round with surprise finally meeting Gwen’s. ‘You mean, you remember? The dream?’
Gwen felt her own eyes widening. ‘Of course I do. I remember every moment.’ Her throat tightened, as certain of those moments came flooding back to her. Isobelle’s light in the darkness of her nightmare; the touch of her lips, more vivid than any sensation in a dream ought to be, as she broke their enchanted sleep.
Gwen looked around, crawling a few paces to the chair where her sword belt was slung. She drew the blade and returned to Isobelle, tugging her to sit cross-legged with her, legs still tangled together.
‘See this?’ Gwen laid the sword across their laps, with its angular hilt between them. ‘This is a tool. A sword isn’t evil or virtuous – a sword has no intentions. Yes, it can be dangerous. But it can also save lives, in the right hands.Youtaught me that mine were the right hands for this power.’
‘And you think my hands are the right ones for my own power?’ Isobelle replied, though her smile was a little more genuine this time, her eyes a little softer.
‘If you can turn a peasant girl into a knight by sheer willpower alone, surely I can believe in you hard enough to show you how silly you’re being about this whole witch thing.’
Gwen watched as Isobelle reached out and ran her fingers along the sword’s hilt, tracing the unadornedcrosspiece. A new blade, with none of the ornate decoration Gwen’s original sword had borne. And yet, even now, Gwen fancied she could see a little of the glow it had given off in her dream, when Isobelle had brought it to her as a torch in the darkness.
‘You should come up with a name for this sword.’ Isobelle’s voice sounded a little more like her own. ‘In all the best ballads, the hero’s sword has some fearsome, glorious name. Especially the magic ones.’
Gwen laughed, letting Isobelle change the subject – they had time. After all, even Isobelle hadn’t banished all Gwen’s qualms in a single conversation. ‘I would feel pretty silly being all “bring me Monster-Masher, I must away!”’
Isobelle swatted one of Gwen’s hands lightly. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. I was thinking something like Heartpiercer.’
Gwen reached for Isobelle’s hand and caught it before she could deliver another of those playful smacks. She turned Isobelle’s palm over and lifted it to her lips, her eyes glued to Isobelle’s face.
‘What about … Hopebringer?’ Gwen whispered.
Isobelle’s lips parted, flushing in that way Gwen had come to love – that way that told Gwen Isobelle’s thoughts had turned in a direction Gwen found most satisfying. ‘Perfect,’ Isobelle whispered back.
Gwen wanted to lean forward, and feel the flushed heat of those lips on her own. But she had one more thing she wanted to say. ‘Whatever happens,’ she said in a lowvoice, all laughter fled. ‘Whatever’s next … you won’t have to do it alone. I’m yours, as long as you’ll have me.’
