“I… I’m normal size again,” she whispered.
Madura’s eyes softened. “A little magic can help cure even the worst spell if you know how to use it. Her Highness, Lady Ruth, discovered that.”
Spring blinked at her, confused and overwhelmed. “But… how is this even possible?”
“I suspect there was a little mischief magic threaded into the portal that brought you. I sensed the touch of a Goddess,” Madura said, helping Spring down from the chair. “You are here now. Safe and sound. Now, tell me about the one you had a quarrel with. I believe he might need a touch of magic as well.”
Spring nodded and slowly bent so she could slide down and sit on the chair. Madura shooed the children back outside, ignoring the way they complained. Spring’s eyes filled with tears. She really needed someone to talk to, and since her sister and her mom weren’t there, she leaned into Madura’s plump arms when the woman wrapped them around her and gave her a comforting hug.
“Hush now. It will be alright,” Madura murmured.
“I left him… alone. What if something happens to him? What if he really doesn’t have nine lives? What if—what if… he’s happy I’m not there?” Spring sobbed.
Madura chuckled. “I’m sure he is missing you, child. Let me get you a nice cup of tea and a slice of fresh Cobbleberry pie.”
Spring wiped at her damp cheeks and sniffed. She would take a few minutes to compose herself, and then she would go back to Roam.
And he better be okay or I’m going to roast him, she thought with a fierce scowl.
Her dragon snorted again. Roam cat-shifter. What could go wrong?
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Aboard Drago’s Airship:
The Oceans of the Seven Kingdoms
* * *
The wind rushed past in cool, steady gusts as the airship soared high above the glittering sea. Sails the color of storm clouds billowed overhead, shimmering with elemental magic that caught the light and scattered it like droplets across the deck. The hull beneath them creaked gently, the steady hum of enchanted gears deep in its belly giving the airship a heartbeat of its own.
Phoenix sat near the bow, her knees pulled up with her arms wrapped loosely around them. Her black hair whipped around her shoulders. The strands caught in the breeze as she stared out over the vast ocean of the Seven Kingdoms. The water below glittered like a sheet of glass broken into pieces of sapphire and silver.
It was beautiful—untouched and endless.
And it was the longest moment of quiet she’d had since the portal shattered.
Zohar was stretched out beside her on his back, one arm flung over his eyes, the other tracing lazy spirals through the air as if he were the conductor of an orchestra. Alice perched on the opposite side of the bow, her chin resting on her knees, golden energy occasionally flickering along her fingers. Adaline was cross-legged beside her, her dark brown hair braided into a crown and threaded with wildflowers from the Isle of the Elementals. Bálint leaned against the crown of the ship, watching the horizon, arms folded—but his eyes occasionally flicked to Phoenix with quiet worry.
It was Alice who broke the silence.
“Are you doing okay?” she asked softly.
Phoenix blinked, then turned to face her. The warm breeze tugged gently at her hair and sleeves, as if urging her to speak.
She offered a small smile. “Yeah. I’m okay.”
She paused, then added, “I’m still worried about the others. But finding you all… it’s helped. A lot. I can’t tell you how scared I was at first that I… that I might never see any of you again.”
Alice nodded, her expression tender and knowing.
Phoenix hesitated, her eyes changing color with her emotions. She looked down at the deck, then slowly said, “I felt guilty. About the portal failing. About us getting separated. I thought… maybe it was my fault. That I wasn’t strong enough. Or focused enough. If I’d just done something better… we’d all be together.”
Zohar shifted and peeked at her through one eye. “Phoenix…”
She shook her head. “I know. I know it wasn’t really my fault. But the guilt was still there. And then—when we started finding each other—I realized something.”
She looked up again, her gaze drifting toward the clouds ahead.
