By ten in the morning, we were all well and truly pissed.
And at the same time, I couldn’t have been happier. People from Loren Brae, having caught wind of the events, showed up with booze, platters of even more food, and joined in the fun. The party continued. There were more songs. More dancing. More whisky than was probably advisable.
At some point, Sir Buster got into an altercation with one of Lottie’s Scottie dogs and had to be rescued by Lady Lola, who sat on the offending Scottie until it retreated.
I sat by the fire again, exhausted but happy, watching the celebration swirl around me. Graham had been basically glued to my side since this morning, and I sighed in happiness.
“We should probably sleep at some point,” he said.
“Probably.”
“But not yet.”
“No,” I agreed. “Not yet.”
Quilliam had relocated to the back of my chair, his scales warm against my neck. Faelan was curled up in another chair, Gloam draped across her feet. Orla and Finlay had claimed a corner and were slow dancing, caught up in their own world. Sophie and Lachlan were nowhere to be seen, which probably meant they’d found somewhere private.
“Agnes.” Hilda appeared beside my chair, her face soft in the firelight. “I wanted to say…what you did last night. It was reckless and foolish, and you scared us all half to death.”
“I know—” She’d already mentioned it to me severaltimes. Two bright pink spots burned on her cheeks, and her eyes were lively.
“But it was also incredibly brave. And I’m proud of you.” She leaned down and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Your grandmother would be proud too. She always knew you had it in you.”
My eyes stung. “I wish she could have seen it.”
“Maybe she did.” Hilda smiled. “The spirits were restless last night, according to Orla. Maybe Isobel was watching too. Maybe all the Wright women were.”
“I hope so,” I said. “I hope they know it’s finally over.”
“It’s not over.” Hilda’s voice was gentle. “It’s just beginning. You’ve broken the curse, but there’s still work to do. The other branches. The Three Queens. The Cailleach is still out there, somewhere.”
“I know.” And frankly, it was the last thing I wanted to think about in this moment.
“But that’s tomorrow’s problem. Today, we celebrate.” She straightened up. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to stop Matthew from attempting to teach Brice the Macarena. Some things should not be seen.”
She disappeared into the crowd, and I leaned back against Graham’s shoulder.
“The Cailleach,” he said. “That’s the dark one? The one who actually cursed your family?”
“Yes.”
“She’s still out there.”
“Yes.”
“And you’re going to have to deal with her eventually.”
“Probably.” Goddess, but I hoped not.
“When that happens”—he turned to look at me, his expression serious—“whenthat happens, you’re not going alone. You ken? Whatever comes next, whatever dark goddess or ancient evil or terrible threat emerges, we face it together. As a team. As a family.”
“You almost drowned twice.” I still wasn’t over that. I wouldneverbe over that.
“And I’ll probably be in danger again at some point. That’s just life.” He squeezed my hand. “But I’d rather face danger with you than be safe without you. That’s the deal. That will always be the deal.”
I kissed him. Soft and slow, tasting whisky and love and the promise of tomorrow.
“Deal,” I said.
