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I turned back to the owl.
But Tuva was a bird no longer.
A woman stood before me, ancient but unaged. Her hair was gray and tangled, but I could see glimpses of its former gold. Lantern-like eyes stared into mine, full of sorrow and wisdom.
“Tuva?” I whispered.
“I have been called by many names. And that is one,” the woman said. “There is no time to list them all.” She lifted a hand and touched my cheek.
I looked into her eyes. “I know you,” I breathed. “Nedola.”
My aunt, the third sister, nodded, then turned her head, looking around the grove. “Once, this place was sacred. It was the beginning of it all.” She looked to where my father stood frozen by the altar. “Then it was corrupted.”
“You weren’t there that night,” I remembered. “The night it happened. Why?”
She turned back to me, her visage tinged with bitterness. “I was spared. If one can call it that. My brother decided I was not powerful enough to kill. He replaced me. With you.”
She had lost her sisters that night. And ever since...
“No punishment would have been great enough for living while my sisters died. And so I cursed myself. I had been spared while you three were not. My sisters were gone. And you, my niece. Alone, I could restore none of you. Devina was the most lost of all. She had left the fabric of this world so completely...” Nedola paused, and I heard the grief in her voice. “I could find no trace of her at all.”
“You’ve been following me,” I guessed. “All this time.”
She nodded. “I’ve waited for you. Traces of you have always lingered in the world. I watched and waited for your rebirth. Many times, I thought I had found you only for it to be some other girl who bore merely a passing shadow of resemblance to my Marzanna.”
She glanced around. “Now look at us. Finally we are here again. At the end of this dark road.”
“Can you stop my father?” I asked. “Is that why you’re here?”
“I cannot destroy him for you, no. I’m here for my end. Like my sister Zorya, I have been waiting for it for a very long time. But along the way, I’ll help you as best I can. Just as I have always done.”
I felt a lump in my throat. “Thank you, Aunt.”
She nodded. “After this, it will be over. For me at least. I shall not choose to be reborn. I will pass on.” She looked upwards to the cloudy heavens. “Somewhere, my sisters are waiting for me. I will go to find them.”
She turned her head back to the throne room where Draven stood, frozen like a statue, his arm still poised over Vela’s fallen body, Excalibur clasped tightly in his hand.
“But before I do...” She gently touched her hand to my cheek one more time, then touched my arm, tracing the markings that gleamed on my skin like silver paint. “I will return all of you to yourself.”
And then she was the bird again. The beautiful golden owl I had first seen with Merlin.
Her wings spread wide as she soared across the room, straight towards my mate.
I gasped, for a moment not understanding.
And then she blazed, flaming with the power I used to have as her feathers flared with fire and she became a golden arrow heading straight towards my sword held aloft in Draven’s hand.
Bird met sword.
There was a sparking, crackling sound of power upon power. Impossible to fully describe.
A blast of light filled the room, and I shut my eyes.
I felt a tingling over my body. My skin began to glow with heat.
I opened my eyes. My markings were gleaming, not silver but gold. They writhed like living, breathing things along my arms.
I felt suffused with life. Rejuvenated.
