Saeldian laughed. “You knew I could fool my old patron into gloating his way to defeat?”
“I knew your heart would win.”
He let go and swiped at his cheek. Saeldian patted his shoulder and settled back next to Kell. “Let the witch-queen go, Jubilee!”
“I can’t help it. This is so wizard!” Jubilee stared in awe at Tasha. “Mum will faint when I tell her I met you.”
Tasha indulged Jubilee’s starstruck attention with a smile. “You make sure to tell her how well I pretended to lose both of our fights.”
“And how you turned me into a toad.”
“Temporarily,” the witch-queen said, raising a finger to emphasize the point. “It was loads of fun. If you’re ever near Prismeer, please drop by for tea. Bring your mother!”
And with a final wave, she left. Once Tasha was gone, and Osalor gone with her, Hearthaven’s Repose turned relentlessly to spring. And when the magnolias unfurled into wide, petaled saucers, Saeldian pulled a bit of fleece out of their pocket and flourished it in their fingers.
Nothing happened.
“So it’s true,” Kell said. “All your power’s gone?”
“All of it.” They looked at Kell and smiled. “Worth everything I paid.”
“Hold,” Jadiris said, and his gentle voice silenced the chatter. “Much has transpired, and I know nearly none of it, but I suspect I owe you a great deal.”
“We both do,” Ilondrel said.
“You already saw hearts that needed mending, my lady,” Saeldian said. “I couldn’t ask for more.”
“You’re not asking,” Ilondrel said. “You made a pact with Osalor for the power you needed to protect yourself. Make an oath now, with me. I offer you the power you can use to serve others, to bring hope to the lost, to defend beauty and love, and to do what your heart knows to be right.”
Saeldian froze. That wasn’t any warlock pact they’d ever heard of.
Jadiris’s smile was bright as dawn. “You beat me to it, my wife. I was going to offer.”
“You approve, then?” Ilondrel asked.
“Absolutely. We could have no better champion.”
Saeldian looked at the two of them.Champion?It felt like Kell calling them a hero. It felt like a lot to live up to.
“And what must I do for the power?” Saeldian asked.
“Back in Faerûn, you stole. You cheated. You swindled and lied. Go back there and use your skill in confidence games and corruption to find charlatans and protect innocents—and repair the lives you have hurt with your actions. Do that work until it is done, and then you may return to the Feywild.”
Saeldian swallowed. Bargains with the fey always had a cost. “I have to go back.”
Ilondrel nodded. “You do.”
“It’ll take years to undo all I’ve done, if I accept your offer of power,” Saeldian said. “Or I can stay here, an ordinary person, in the Feywild.”
“Just so.”
Saeldian stayed quiet. They looked at the tiny purple flowers blooming at their feet and considered. “You’re not offering me a warlock’s pact, are you?”
Ilondrel smiled like every flower in Hearthaven’s Repose was opening. “I am not.”
Saeldian snorted. They raised one arm to flex their biceps. “Aren’t I a little scrawny to be a paladin?”
Jadiris chuckled. “Are you saying you have no skill in combat? Or that you cannot learn?”
