Silverwing was the first to cry out, lamenting his Rider’s passing in agonized Vernish. We added our voices, wordless but no less heartfelt, bidding farewell to friend, brother, Rider, and husband as the smoke of his pyre twisted into the evening sky.
It was a quiet party that retired to the lodge that night. The windows were dark and the hearth cold, and it looked as though it had been several weeks since anyone had visited, but I didn’t think any of us minded. Lighting lamps, starting a fire, and airing out the bed linens gave us all something to do. Between the five of us, it took less time than I expected, and Anjey was soon curled before the crackling fire, one hand on the wing Silverwing had draped over the edge of her chair. Edmund watched the kettle swinging over the flames. Julienna pulled out her panpipes and played a quiet, solemn tune. I stood in the doorway, suddenly overwhelmed by it all, and fought off a fresh wave of tears.
Alastair slipped a hand over my shoulder and pulled me against his chest. The hard edge of his heartstone dug into my back as I leaned into him. “I know,” he whispered into my hair.
“Does it ever get easier?” I asked.
“No.”
“Alastair, there’s something I want—something we need to do.” I turned to face him. “Come with me.”
He didn’t question, only followed. The sun had disappeared behind the treetops and dusk was falling rapidly, but there was still enough light to navigate the overgrown path to the walled garden beyond the lodge. Dead, damp leaves made squelching sounds beneath our feet, giving way to the noiseless carpet of moss that spread from the stone dais in the center of the garden, where the statue of the Fourfold God stood silent and watchful.
I looked at Thell’s facet facing the southern wall, no longer wondering why the ancient sculptors had arranged it so. She had always been watching over her distant prison and the terrible creature she had trapped there. Trapped and freed and now sent back. I unpinned the heartstone brooch from my dress with difficulty.
“Alastair, do you remember the centaur we met in the Widdermere?” I asked.
“I do.”
“He asked me why our people hold death close to our hearts.” I lowered the brooch. “After all that’s happened, I’m starting to think he was right to wonder.”
Alastair hesitated for a moment before pulling the lindworm’s heartstone from its chain around his neck. “It’s curious you should say that. I’ve been thinking too. We wear heartstones as signs of devotion.” He closed my hand around the brooch and rested his forehead on mine. “But we don’t need them, khera. We bear our own heartstones.” He touched four fingers to his chest, right above his heart. “All the world knows this beats for you.”
“Aye, and mine for you. Qon vet qerrek, khera’ei.” Now and always, my love.
A smile broke over his features. “You’ve been learning.”
“I have.” I took both our heartstones and turned to the statue, to the all-seeing eyes of the Unmaker, and knelt. “Av Em teh-nes.”
It was a simple thank-you, without ornament or explanation, but it felt right. As I rose, I placed the heartstones in Thell’s outstretched hands. To the gods belonged the first beginning and the final end, and with the passing of the princess who refused to die, the Unmaker’s eternal circle was now once more unbroken. I took Alastair’s arm.
A wind stirred the dying grass and rustled the ivy. The hair on the back of my neck prickled and I stopped, gasping for air under the sudden weight that pressed down on us, unseen, intolerable, ageless. It lasted only a moment. The wind stilled, the weight lifted, and Alastair and I looked at each other. It took another second for me to remember where I’d felt something like that before. Hallowhall.
“Aliza,” Alastair said quietly, and pointed to the statue.
The heartstones no longer lay on Thell’s open palms, for her hands were no longer open. She held the heartstones tightly, and her lips curved upward in a contented smile. Tears filled my eyes as I knelt next to Alastair.
She was missing two fingers on her left hand, and the fingers on her right were hopelessly crooked.