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“There are laws bigger than all of us. Once Scotland’s magic was bound, so was I. There are few places were nature and magic are more tightly tied than the Highlands. Ah, wait.” Beira looked at the frozen bodies around them. “We’ll need him for this conversation too.”
The goddess snapped her fingers, and Calum reanimated, falling to his knees with a sharp cry. His sword clattered on the ground and Fern ran to him.
“Fuck,” Calum choked, burying his head in Fern’s shoulder as she threw her arms around him.
“I’m okay, I’m okay,” she soothed. Calum pulled back and ran his hands over her, checking every part of her to ensure that she was unscathed. Fern said nothing and waited for him to be assured that she was all right; she knew he wouldn’t be calm until he appeased his instincts.
Once Calum was satisfied that Fern was unharmed, he pulled them to their feet and turned around. He took one look at Beira and went so still, Fern thought she had refrozen him.
“Calum?” Fern’s brow furrowed in concern as she glanced back at the goddess.
“Aoife?” Calum sounded like he was going to burst into tears.
“Who?”
“Yes.” Fern and Beira responded at the same time, and Fern realized Calum knew Beira by another name.
“All this time… When you worked in the castle?”
Beira’s laughter sounded like silver bells at Christmas. “Especially then. I had to keep an eye on all of you to make sure you were governing my country the way I intended.” There was no animosity in her voice, only warmth and affection.
Calum was awestruck. Fern had never seen the great prince and academic look so thoroughly befuddled.
“Did you break the curse?” Calum posed the same question that Fern did. Beira shook her head.
“No. I was affected by it too. Fern broke the curse. You both did.” Calum and Fern exchanged dazed looks, trying to piece through the events of the past twenty-four hours. Beira took pity on them and kept talking.
“You’re both too smart for your own good. ‘Only when it stands alone, it will kiss magic and atone.’” Beira repeated the curse’s pivotal lines.
“I knew it.” Calum turned to look at Fern. His face was so full of adoration, she might as well have been the sun. “I knew it would be you.”
“I cannot wait for the day that I am not the last person to know something in this fucking country,” Fern grumbled, tossing a pleading look at Beira for an explanation. The goddess obliged.
“Scotland has been standing alone since the curse, but Scotland is many things. She is her magic, her people, her witches. You, Fern, came here alone to achieve something to make yourself proud.”
“And… kissing magic?” Fern looked between Calum and Beira.
“Who else personifies magic more than the fae prince who rules over it all? Except for me, of course.” Beira grinned. “A rift between Calum and Gweyir caused the curse. It was always going to be you, a descent of Gweyir, who came here alone and claimed Calum as her mate to break the spell.”
Fern didn’t move. She didn’t react. Calum was still looking at her like she hung the stars in the sky as he pulled her closer to him.
Fern went eagerly, wrapping her arm around his waist as she rested against his side. The warm, solid presence of his body soothed some of the chaos she was sorting through in her head. Beira waited patiently for them to understand.
“Do you mean to tell me that after three-hundred years the secret to breaking the spell was kissing a prince?!”
Fern looked dumbstruck as she stared at Beira. Calum burst into laughter, nearly doubling over at the sound of Fern’s righteous indignation. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head as Fern sputtered in academic outrage.
“Admit it,” he smiled against her hair, “it was a really good kiss.”
“Oh my god,” Fern groaned. “I cannot believe this. It’s some Occam’s Razor bullshit.”
“You’re just upset that you broke the curse, but you didn’t figure out the riddle.” Calum’s joy was unbridled. Fern let out a small noise of distaste.
“Obviously,” she ceded. “Now I know how Gollum felt with the whole ‘what have I got in my pockets’ rigmarole.” Calum opened his mouth to respond, but Beira cleared her throat delicately, drawing their attention back to the goddess.
“Regarding Eòin,” Beira nearly snarled, “I was bound by the curse, and I’m powerless outside of Scotland. But as you can see, that is not the case anymore, and Eòin is no longer in England.”
The wind picked up around them as the temperature plummeted. Beira’s magic turned frigid and deadly, like freezing water that shocked your system. She took one step towards Eòin, and he unfroze, falling to his knees with a thud.
