I crawled in and curled up next to him. “Tell me what you saw. There at the end, I wasn’t really aware.”

“It’s hard to put into words. There was a moment when you weren’t there at all. It was just storms. Thunder and lightning and wind. There was a flash so bright it took my breath. I could feel the electricity in my teeth. I thought...” He swallowed. “For a second I thought maybe you were gone. Maybe I’d died, and I had failed you and I’d be doomed to live with that knowledge as my eternal punishment. But when my vision cleared, Ruelle was chanting, still trying to fight, but his Magic was gone.” His lip curled into a sleepy smile. “Then there you were, falling into my arms.”

I pressed a kiss to the rough stubble on his jaw. He wrapped an arm around me, grunted once, and promptly fell asleep. I would’ve said he slept like the dead, except I’d recently witnessed how the dead slept. Gideon’s breathing was too deep, his color too bright, his spirit too vital to mistake him for anything else. Perhaps every day for the rest of my life I’d thank the gods for giving him to me and keeping him alive.

Jackie’s demise was a sharp wound that would be slow to heal, but Gideon’s death would have destroyed me.

I was drifting close to sleep when a knock at my door drew me back to the waking world. Sitting up, I rubbed my eyes and grumbled. “Come in.”

Niffin and Malita shuffled into the room. She carried a lit taper that threw gold light across her face. They wore matching sheepish expressions.

I groaned. “Don’t tell me you couldn’t find a room.”

“We found a room, but that is not why we have come.” She shook her head, refusing to meet my eyes. “We have to tell you something.”

My heart swelled into my throat. I knew what she was going to say, and I wasn’t sure I could stand to hear it. Not tonight. “You’re leaving me.”

She flinched. Her brow puckered. “Only for a short time. I must go home. I must tell my family I am alive. My mother should not have to grieve me any longer.”

“And I will go with her to make sure she is safe,” Niffin said. “If you allow it.”

“If I allow it.” I snorted and rolled my eyes.

“We will come back in time for your, um...” She glanced at Niffin and mimicked placing a crown on her head.

“Coronation,” he said. “We will come back in time to see you crowned.” His lips screwed into a crooked grin. “Um... when do you think that will be?”

I huffed and fell back against my pillows. Gideon stirred beside me but didn’t wake. “Give me three months. No, four. We’ll try to have this place back in shape by then, and we’ll make it the party of the century.”

“Party?” Malita gave me a skeptical look. “You hate parties.”

I smiled at her as I closed my eyes. “Not if I’m the one throwing it.”

Epilogue

The Queen of Inselgrau Does Something New

The first thing Niffin noticed upon his return to Fallstaff was that Evie had, indeed, managed to repair the damage the Council of Magic and Le Poing Fermé had inflicted on her home. Other than a few bare patches of grass that had not yet grown in, no one would be able to tell that a Magic battle had raged on these grounds only four short months before. Fallstaff was no palace—Niffin had seen enough of those to know the difference—but anyone who came upon this inimitable house would never doubt that someone of great substance and power lived there.

The next things Niffin noticed were the smells. He dragged in a long, deep breath as he dismounted Khosha near Fallstaff’s stables and handed off the reins to a young stableboy. Niffin recognized the scents of frying dough, caramelizing sugar, and the buttery odor of fresh popcorn. He held up his arms and caught Malita as she slid down from the saddle. He fastened the closures on his wool coat while she readjusted the lay of her fleece-lined cloak. Winter in Inselgrau was harsher than the perpetually warm climate of Nri, and they had yet to acclimate.

Niffin took Malita’s hand, and they strode across the lawn, heading not for Fallstaff’s front door but for the rolling acres of open field behind the house. Music swelled as they approached the grand affair spread across Evie’s estate. He recognized the sound of a Fantazike band practicing an old folk tune. Joy inflated his heart until he thought it would burst. Along the edges of the woods bordering the estate, the Fantazikes had moored their ships. They bobbed in the stiff breeze, and their silvery, iridescent balloons rippled like the surface of a pond on a sunny winter day.

His people had set up their usual fair with boxing rings, trinket booths, and music pavilion, but the attractions were mixed in among a collection of large, colorful wagons with arcing rooftops. Each wagon featured a painted mural or scrolling calligraphy that identified the troop as Le Cirque De Merveilles Mécanique. In the center of the field stood a tremendous red-and-white-striped tent.

The roar of an excited crowd exploded from the tent, explaining why the field appeared mostly empty. Niffin arched an eyebrow at Malita. She smiled and nodded. They hurried for the tent, hoping they’d arrived in time to catch the performance before it ended.

As Niffin stepped through the door flaps, the sound of pounding hooves drew his attention to the large ring in the center of the tent. A young woman in a spangled and glittering costume stood perfectly balanced on the back of perhaps the most amazing creature Niffin had ever seen—and that was quite a feat considering all the places he’d travelled and all the wonders he’d witnessed. The creature was a horse—no, a unicorn, and the entire thing was constructed of brass, steel, gears, cogs, and metallic joints that clinked in rhythm with the thudding of its hooves.

Awe froze Niffin in place as the girl raised her hands, steadied herself, then leapt from the unicorn’s saddle. She executed a midair somersault and landed soundly on both feet. A bright grin split her face, and the crowd roared and cheered. Niffin couldn’t help cheering along with them.

The girl bowed to the crowd. Then she rose and seemed to focus on a particular section of the audience. She strode forward and bowed again, lower, with more deference. Niffin stepped further into the tent and searched the crowds, looking for the recipient of the performer’s regard. He spotted Evie, resplendent in a bright-purple cloak, her hair arranged in a simple twist.

Gideon stood at her right shoulder. Understated gold braiding adorned the lapel of his black wool jacket, cut in a military style with brass buttons and a short collar. He undoubtedly took his new role as Captain of the Guard seriously and had dressed for the part. He leaned down and spoke to the person beside him, a girl who shared his coloring and facial features. His sister, Marlis, perhaps?

Niffin also recognized the young people at Evie’s left shoulder: Brahm and Hannah Schulze. Niffin pinned his top lip between his teeth to keep it from curling. Brahm had proven to be a reliable sort, but his sister was a rotten terror. Still, it didn’t surprise Niffin to find her there. Evie was generous and had a big heart. She’d want to share her success with anyone who contributed to it.

He scanned the other faces in the crowd and found Brigette standing behind Evie, looking healthier and a little plumper than the last time he’d seen her. Having a home, a purpose, and a regular diet of djageesh had made quite a difference. He picked out the faces of his own family next—his grandmother, father, mother, sister, and even his sister’s fiancé, Benoit. A burning ache filled Niffin’s throat, but he swallowed it. He touched the scar that had formed over his ribs from the bullet that had pierced him months before. When he’d left with Evie from the fields in Varynga upon Justina’s orders, he had feared he might never see his people or his family again. He’d feared that following Evie might’ve meant facing his death sooner rather than later.

But as Justina had routinely repeated to her people: “Everything will come together the right way in the end. If it is not right, then it is not the end.”

He snugged an arm around Malita, pulled her close, and pressed a kiss to her soft, warm cheek. She smelled of lilacs, like the soap his grandmother made.

The trick-riding girl took the reins of her mechanical unicorn and strode out of the ring. A dashing young man in jodhpurs and a red tailcoat jogged into the center of the tent, taking her place. Falak Savin, the ringmaster. Niffin had met him briefly after he and his family had travelled to Barsava to pick up Evie and Gideon.

Falak raised his hands, and the crowd quieted. “Ladies and gentlemen, another round of applause for the astounding Genevieve.” He paused while the audience whistled and clapped. Once they settled down again, he continued. “On behalf of Le Cirque De Merveilles Mécanique, I’d like to express our sincerest gratitude to the Lady of Thunder for her patronage and for hosting us here on the lovely island of Inselgrau. We will be touring your fair country for the rest of the month, so if you enjoyed our show, please spread the word.” He beamed at the crowd and bowed dramatically. “Thank you all for coming.”

The rest of the circus performers jogged in through a rear entrance and joined the ringmaster for more bows and curtsies. A band played exit music while the audience funneled out of the tent, returning to the fairgrounds outside. As if Niffin and Malita were lead and Evie were a magnet, she strode straight to them. Without hesitation or formality, the queen of Inselgrau threw her arms first around Malita and then around Niffin. Her eyes sparkled as she pulled away. “You almost missed the show,” she said, dabbing at her eyes.

Niffin shrugged. “Better late than never, right? There was a storm in the channel that delayed us. Too bad you were not there to facilitate our travels.”

Evie chuckled. “Well, I’m glad you’re here now. I was feeling a bit out of sorts without you.”

Niffin buffed his knuckles on his lapel. “That is what all the ladies say.”

Malita shoved an elbow into his ribs, and he chuckled.

Three more joined the impromptu meeting—Brigette, Gideon, and the girl who must have been his sister, Marlis. Behind them appeared Brahm and Hannah Schulze. Last to arrive was the ringmaster, Falak, and the trick rider, Genevieve.

“Does everyone know everybody?” Evie asked. Once the proper introductions were made, Evie motioned for her friends to follow her. “Let’s go to the house. Gerda has something for us to eat, I’m sure.”

Niffin glanced at his family, who had gathered several feet away, waiting for the opportunity to approach. He released Malita’s hand and squeezed her shoulder. “Go ahead. I will catch up to you soon.”

Malita glanced at his family and nodded. “I will tell Evie.”

Evie’s group filed out of the tent, leaving Niffin alone with his family and a few circus employees who had started sweeping up.

“My son!” Emorelle hurried over and hugged him, squeezing him tightly enough to make his ribs creak. “I was not sure we would ever see you again.”

After she released him he hugged his father, his sister, and his grandmother in turn. He and Benoit shook hands.

“We have already talked to Evie,” Timony said. “She told us everything that has happened since you left us in Varynga. But it is not the same as seeing you ourselves.” He slapped Niffin’s back. “We have missed you, boy.”

“I missed you, too, Papa.” A flush lit his cheeks. “I think of you every day.”

“We have asked Justina to rescind her orders so you can come home. For good.” Emorelle wiped her eyes and frowned. “She says she will not take back her orders, but she will give you the freedom to decide for yourself. You can stay here...” She waved her hand about, generally indicating Evie’s estate. “Or you can leave with us.”

Niffin’s stomach twisted. Months ago, if he’d been given this option, he would never have hesitated to return to his home in the skies. But he’d been out in the world, living as his own person, an individual with the freedom to make his own choices and fulfill his own destiny. There was comfort and safety in returning to his parents’ ship, but there were confines, rules, and expectations there, as well—ones that didn’t necessarily mesh with his own evolving identity. He’d left his childhood behind. His life was his own now.