Page 124 of The Exquisite Torment of Loving Your Enemy

“You said a few hours,” said the deofol, narrowing her round eyes. “It’s been six. We thought Haelan knew how to count.”

“Sorry,” said Aurienne. “Things took longer than expected. Please tell Ruain we’re ready for pickup anytime.”

“Right. I’m off, then.Slán,” said Ruain’s deofol. She wrapped her wings around herself and vanished.

TheFarewellappeared half an hour later, descending in her ungainly way towards the beach from a sky of pale blue.

“Success in your research endeavour?” asked Ruain as Aurienne and Mordaunt clambered aboard.

“Yes,” said Aurienne.

“Is Mr. Hungwell pleased, too?” asked Ruain.

Aurienne felt as though Ruain was baiting Mordaunt into some sort of exchange, but Mordaunt was unusually serious. He gave no answer.

They took their seats. Aurienne asked for another of those blue sweets before they entered the ley lines, for the sake of the upholstery. It put her in a pleasant daze as theFarewelltook off. She looked down through a porthole and saw, upon the sparkling sea, foam in the shape of vast spirals. Ruain commented to Mordaunt that there were whales feeding below; those were their bubble nets. The spirals spun upon themselves as Aurienne faded into sleep.

Ruain dropped them off, at Aurienne’s request, at Rosefell Hall. Shewanted to do one last pass with the diffractor to confirm last night’s healing.

TheFarewellhovered near Rosefell’s waystone. Mordaunt clambered down the rope ladder first and helped Aurienne out.

“Thank you for the ride,” called Aurienne.

“Take care, Aurienne. And you—whoever you are,” Ruain said, jutting his chin towards Mordaunt. Just before pulling the door closed, he gave them a wink. “Give us a shout if you ever want a third.”

He shut the door.

Aurienne blinked.

TheFarewelltook off.

Aurienne and Mordaunt exchanged glances. Mordaunt looked as though he might consider it.

They walked towards the house. There was a chill in the morning air. It was the beginning of summer’s long retreat. They were slipping into autumn, and it felt like things were ending.

They had begun in the spring.

Aurienne had grown in those months. She had learned.

She found her footsteps slow and unwilling as they entered Rosefell Hall. This adventure with Mordaunt would soon be over. It’s only when the story comes to an end that you feel the real weight of it. Of lessons learned. Of feelings lingering past the last pages.

Mrs. Parson met them at the door to the kitchens and was delighted by the news of Mordaunt’s healing—to be confirmed by diffractor, piped in Aurienne.

Mordaunt disappeared to fetch the machine. Aurienne joined Mrs. Parson in the kitchens to help with the tea.

Mrs. Parson squeezed Aurienne’s hand in her left one, which was missing a few fingers. “Thank you for what you did for him.”

“I’m pleased he’s going to be all right,” said Aurienne.

“The Old Ways worked?”

Aurienne hesitated. “I don’t yet know how to explain whathappened. I’m going to take some time to analyse it all. But I think there was something in the Old Ways.”

“And so you’ve come to the end,” said Mrs. Parson. “I don’t think Osric is ready to say goodbye to you. You must be patient with him. He’s never not been able to have what he wants.”

Aurienne made no answer. The kettle came to a boil.

“A Fyren in love with a Haelan,” said Mrs. Parson with a sigh. “Quite beautiful, in a tragic way.”