I exhale again. I’m stalling at this point. Facing the rosebush again, I stare into its depths.Hello, old friend.
It’s not the same rosebush I entered Castletree through; Kel destroyed that a long time ago. But another has bloomed within the Briar on the outskirts of Castletree, this one heavy with roses, luminescent as Wrenley’s briars. And Kairyn’s heart has led him here.
“Sure you don’t want to come with me?” I ask.
He shakes his head, horns swinging. “A monster in the human realm? I would be hunted before I ever found her.” Finally, he meets my gaze, his own shining. “I just want to know she’s safe.”
I nod. “Okay. I’ll meet you back at Castletree soon.”
Then I fall to my hands and knees and crawl into the rosebush.
My heart pounds against my ribs as I push through the thorns, and my stomach twists. This doesn’t feel like going home; it’s like trying to step into a black-and-white photograph, my colors too bright to fit in again.
Not that I ever did.
But what is my sister doing here? Wrenley never lived in the human realm. Never stepped foot in it, as far as I know.
I keep scrambling beneath the thorns until a gleam of light shines up ahead. Pulling myself through the last briars, I emerge in a familiar forest with a familiar scent. The air tastes like eating a candy I haven’t tried since childhood.
Briarwood Forest.
I follow paths I traced as a kid, walking past trees that grew up with me. Gray light washes over my skin as I step out from beneath the forest canopy into a drizzle. A wooden sign with a cartoonish orca greets me. A speech bubble above the caricature readsWELCOME TO ORCA COVE!
Home.
But not home.
Because while this is where I was born, my heart was always split in five directions across the realms of the Enchanted Vale.
Why is Wrenley here?What could possibly draw her to a tiny village in the human realm?
Fixing my hair so my pointed ears are hidden, I wrap my arms around myself and walk into town, head down, eyes averted. I’m good at becoming small. I did it all my years living in this town.
My heart pounds, and goose bumps rise on the back of my neck. It’s like my body knows I’m not supposed to be here. It’s funny; I didn’t realize it until now. When I first came to the Enchanted Vale, even though I was imprisoned by four cursed fae, I never felt small.
They changed me, my princes. As I changed them, and they’ve changed each other.
Love is transformative. I’ll never be able to make myself invisible like Orca Cove wanted me to be. And that’s okay. I’ve got the Vale, my true home.
And it’s Wrenley’s too.
Nothing is too different since I left. The Seagull’s Gullet Book Emporium is empty as always, and I glimpse my old boss, Richard, sitting behind the counter, staring into space. At first, I don’t know if I’ll be able to look up at the Poussin Hunting Lodge, but I do at the last minute. Missing posters line the windows, and Lucas’s face stares back at me, a haunting ghost.
I pause, drawn in by the familiar smile, the handsome figure that once possessed me. With all the horrors he inflicted on me and the ultimate retribution I made him pay, it is his parents who will forever suffer, never knowing the fate of their son.
There’s no way to tell them of the monster he became. They could never see the monster he was in this world. Still, I take a stuttering breath, wishing them peace.
I keep walking, passing the abandoned building I’d once dreamed of turning into a library. The Poussins had converted it into a tacky gift shop, but it is empty once more. The windows are boarded up, and there’s caution tape over the door.
Some things will forever be frozen in time in Orca Cove. Lucas will remain the town hero. But there are no missing posters for me or for Papa. We will fade from memory, as if we were never here at all.
I stop at the willow tree. Papa always said it was Mom’s favorite. I place a hand on the bark. A wave of energy passes through me, warm and bursting with life. My magic is so much more attuned to the living world now, but even back then, I knew this was a good tree.
My feet carry me unconsciously up my old street, down the long driveway, and to a cottage, easy to forget it ever existed here.
It’s dark, but of course it is. No one’s been around to pay the electrical bill. The cottage was never in great shape to begin with, but without Papa’s occasional patch-ups, it’s fallen into disrepair. The porch groans under my step, damp leaves stuck in the corners. One of the shutters has come loose and knocks against the siding. The air smells like wet wood.
I lift the soggy mat, find the key, and put it in the lock.
