Page 224 of The Witch Queen

And then, the two of them drift back into the darkness.

Together. Until the three of us can be united again.

Epilogue

Six Months Later

“And here we have the library,” Mistress Penelope, a slim woman wearing purple Keepers’ robes, explains as she guides us through the halls.

Stonehaven’shalls.

The Sanctum is nearly unrecognizable from when I lived here, or from the battle with Mother, which seems like it occurred a hundred years ago now. Most of the damage has been repaired, and with the help of the Dwarves, the building has been upgraded to accommodate additional residents—of which there are many. Mortals, Dwarves, and witches mill around in the corridors, discussing magic or debating points of history. Acting on Joan’s plan, Blodwyn ordered that all the Sanctums were to be converted into schools, free to anyone who wishes to attend.

But that’s not why we’re here.

Jacquetta’s theory proved correct. The Sanctums, namely the old coven fires, practically pulsed with magic, which had been trapped beneath the earth for centuries. One of the many reasons such power didn’t extend beyond Riven’s borders. With Sindony and the rest of the witches, we’ve been making our way through the realm, repeating the ritual from the night we took the palace in order to release it.

Stonehaven’s took place the previous evening, the witches and Dwarves and even mortals coming together to restore the balance of power. It had been the first time since my own failed Ascension that I faced those flames. And I’m not sure that I could have done so without Jacquetta by my side, our heartmate bond beating though my blood. I half expected to see Mother or Rhea again, but they didn’t appear. I think they’re both finally at peace.

“We’re still sorting the books,” the Keeper says, bringing me back into the library. “Deliveries take time to arrive, as you might imagine.”

“I can,” I say, picking up a volume and sifting through it. “I grew up here.”

“Oh, that’s right,” the Keeper says. “I quite forgot, you must forgive me, Your Grace.”

“Just Ayleth,” I correct her.

Much as I appreciate Blodwyn’s gesture, the title never did stick. Jacquetta doesn’t use hers, either—except when we’re at court and she forces everyone to bow to her. She glances over at me and smirks, as if reading my thoughts. She probably can. Our heartmate bond has made us closer than I ever imagined, which isn’t always a good thing. Jacquetta’s smirk widens and I resist the urge to throw a book at her.

“Of course,” the Keeper says, notablynotusing my name. “And I do hope you’ll thank the queen for her generosity. I trust all is well at the palace?”

As far as I’m aware, it is. Blodwyn has her struggles, of course. As I predicted, Warbeck posed an immediate threat, as did several other members of the nobility. And the Followers have been less than keen to accept the new queen’s power. But Blodwyn meant it when she said the throne was not hers alone. Her council includes a place for everyone. I’ve heard she hosts public hours every week, allowing the lowliest of peasants to bring her their concerns. And despite the fact that some of them tried to kill her, Blodwyn permits the Followers to worship in peace. Even here, we passed a young man wearing Meira’s Eye.

“If I stamp it out, it will only grow back stronger,” she reasoned.

Sometimes, it’s difficult to believe that she’s only sixteen.

“Mistress Penelope.” A breathless servant rushes in. “You’re needed downstairs. There’s a disagreement about how the scrolls from Carrick should be handled.”

The Keeper looks panicked. “I’ll be there at once. Forgive me, Your—Ayleth.”

She hurries off, her purple robes fluttering behind her. Jacquetta watches her go, one eyebrow raised in amusement.

“Do you miss it here?” she asks, thumbing through a text.

I shrug, memories swirling around me. All the hours I spent in this room for lessons. The night I decided to go to the White Palace in search of the Bloodstones. The timewespent here together, two witches who had no idea what lay ahead of them.

“Parts of it,” I admit, dealing her a sly smile.

She instantly catches my meaning. “Oh, really?”

Jacquetta comes closer and the scent of juniper is intoxicating. Just before our lips brush, the sound of an argument interrupts us. The squabble is coming from behind the nearest shelf. Two witches who look to be about Blodwyn’s age are sitting on the other side, piles of books spread between them.

“I’m specializing in Malum,” one says. “It’s far more powerful.”

“It isnot,” the other replies, rolling her eyes.

“Yes, it is,” the first insists primly. “Queen Ayleth had the courage to break the Veil. Really change things. That’s what I intend to do.”