Kite sighed slightly, and water dribbled out of her mouth. She could be the river you lie in, thought Eli. Unbidden, the feeling of branches breaking returned, and she clutched her chest, panicking.
“We’re okay,” she told herself. “We’re okay.”
No one answered her.
Being alone in her body again would take some getting used to.
The human heartbeat in her chest reminded her that she was wildly, ridiculously, incredibly alive. The idea that she was safe, that no one was hunting her, was so unfamiliar that laughter bubbled up in her throat like champagne and overflowed.
Kite waited.
She’s always waiting for you, Eli thought. You thought it was you, waiting on her — but you left, again and again. And she waited in the library, in the Coven, hoping you would return.
Did Kite experience worry? Loss? Had she missed her?
“We are the same,” said Kite. “Same magic, materials, everything. That’s what being trueborn means. She took a piece of her essence to make me.”
“You’re not the same,” said Eli, feeling in her entire body that this was the truth.
“You can’t even look at me.” Kite’s voice was cool and distant. But Eli caught the scent of rotting jetsam and understood that even witches could fear losing someone they loved.
“I’ve been looking at you since I was made,” said Eli quietly.
“But now you see her. You see the Witch Lord.”
“She’s gone.” Eli wanted the truth to heal her, but the wound continued to bleed.
A tremor across Kite’s lips, like a bird taking flight from her mouth. Trying to smile, or to hold a smile inside? Eli had no way of knowing. She had been so close to Kite for so long, and then had turned away from her — she had never really seen her for what she was. A girl trying to be free, in her own way.
The silence stretched between them like a shadow, both connecting them and keeping them apart.
Kite swallowed, and Eli was struck by the strangeness of the sound. Witches spat their feelings and words into the world, they didn’t hold on to their grief, hurt, fury. But Kite wasn’t like the other witches Eli had known. “She’s not gone in my dreams,” whispered Kite.
Eli suddenly understood. Dreams in the human world wouldn’t come to life, wouldn’t bury you in sand or tear out your throat. But they still did damage.
She crossed the distance between them in a few steps. She placed a hand on Kite’s cold, clammy face. “We’ll fight her together, always.”
“I smell like her.”
Eli kissed her, slipping her tongue into Kite’s mouth. Salty and sweet, and something else — something familiar. Something like home.
Eli pulled back and pressed her lips to Kite’s ear. “You taste like you.”
In the distance, she heard car tires on gravel. Tav had been sad that Ariel decided to stay in the City of Ghosts, but Cam had a ride handy as always. The lilting voices of their easy banter washed over Eli as she held Kite close to her body.
A honeybee buzzed around their heads, once, and a handful of purple flower petals swirled around them.
Finally, they were all together, and that made this corner of the universe home.
Epilogue: Homemakers
It was midnight in Grace, Ontario — which Tav would always think of as the City of Ghosts. After the adrenalin and magic of the last few weeks, Tav’s body was finally settling back into a circadian rhythm, their humanity welcoming the turning of day into night, the endless dance of the moon and Earth and sun.
The streets were abandoned, and the main square was lit up by only a few flickering streetlights — which was good, since what they were doing was illegal.
As Tav watched, Eli pressed the tip of the blade into the dry soil of an empty flowerbed and waited for the rosebush to bloom, the spiny briars stretching up to the sky. Even magical plants needed to photosynthesize. When it was done, she sheathed the thorn knife, and reached up to break off a small, delicate rosebud.
She looked up and met Tav’s gaze, and a current ran between them. The blade in Tav’s palm warmed against their skin. Eli smiled, and her reptilian eyes shone like two suns. She walked over to them and offered the rose.
“For you,” she said softly.
“Thank you.” They pressed their forehead against Eli’s.
“Working hard, I see,” said Cam, leaning against a lamppost. He had opted not to wear the glamour Kite had made for him tonight, claiming it was itchy and that no one was going to be around, anyway. He looked rakish and regal under the fluorescent lighting, blue agate shimmering across his shoulder blades.
Eli laughed and shifted slightly to look at him. “Is lookout duty so tiring? Do you need a break?”
“Nah, I’m tough.” He tapped his knuckles against a stone torso. “And stylish, of course.”
“Very cool,” agreed Tav. “You’re a punk rocker.”
“I live for sex, drugs, and rock ’n’ roll.”
“One out of three’s not too bad.”
“Hey, I do just fine with the boys!”
Their laughter intertwined with a lullaby in a minor key, sung by a voice that heralded the arrival of starfish and electric eels. The sounds played across the night air, soothing Tav’s anxious body. It would take a long time to learn to unwind the spool of tension in their body. Maybe one day they would untangle those knots. Or they would learn to live with them, and work around them.
“Will you ever go back?” Cam asked Kite. She was drawing intricate designs on the sidewalk with the moon sword. It seemed to have adopted her.
“I don’t know,” said Kite. “There is so much to learn here.” Her gaze flicked to Eli, her smile so bright it could catch fire.
Kite would go where Eli went. They were together now. They always would be.
“I’ll teach you how to make the best pour-over coffee in the country,” Cam promised.
Kite turned back to him, her expression grave. “Thank you, Cam. I would appreciate that.” The Beast wagged his tail, wings
