Night's End

Epilogue

TWENTY-FIVE YEARS LATER

“Cicely! It’s so good to see you again.” Peyton ran up. She stopped to curtsey when she realized people were watching, but I laughed and grabbed her hand, pulling her to me.

“Fuck that. Hug me, woman.” I held on to her, breathing deeply as the warmth of her body filled me with a heat that I seldom felt anymore.

She smiled, shaking her head. “So . . . another cycle, another solstice.” And then we stood in silence. As the years went by, it was harder to find things to talk about. Oh, we discussed her business—which was thriving—and my kingdom, which was also thriving. But sometimes the past was still so raw, so overwhelming, that it intruded on the present. We reminded each other of darker times, of people loved and lost.

Twice a year, New Forest held citywide festivals for the summer and the winter solstices. Rhiannon and I attended both—one of us ruling the celebration with the other an honored guest. Now, it was summer solstice—our birthdays. I was here to enjoy myself, while Rhia presided.

New Forest had grown into a real city, and though it had never been the same, it had turned into a thriving metropolis for magic-born, vampire, and Fae alike. We were cutting-edge in terms of interracial cooperation, and were considered a role model for the nation. But beneath the veneer, everybody who had lived here twenty-five years ago remembered the days when Myst had tried to destroy us. There was no getting away from history.

“How goes the business?”

Peyton laughed. “Lots of cases coming my way. The Veil House has never hosted so many people. I’m working on a big corporate case for the Consortium right now, though I can’t talk about it. But it’s going to boost me into high demand when I’m done.” She paused then, the smile in her eyes fading. “But you know, it’s never been the same here, not since . . .”

“Since Luna died.” I finished it for her.

Three years ago, the ancestors had finally come for our beautiful bard. She’d been in an accident. But she’d left Wind Charms to her daughter, who had also taken over the Moon Spinners, as well.

Kayla was an extremely potent witch, with a personality to match, proving adept at vision magic, water magic . . . and dreamwalking. As to Kayla’s father, Luna had never told us who he was, though we had our suspicions. We also suspected that Kayla herself knew. Five years after we defeated Myst, Luna had disappeared for a week, and when she showed up again, she was pregnant. Thrilled, she’d never once talked about where she’d been. But we knew—we all knew.

“Kayla’s doing well with the business. Ysandra is mentoring her, and it’s working out well. But . . . she’s not Luna. You know how that goes.”

“Yeah, I know.” With a smile, I hugged Peyton again. “I need to check on the kids, but I’ll be back.” As I turned to go, I glanced over my shoulder. “Still no boyfriend?”

Peyton shrugged. “Casually dating, but no one special. Don’t fuss over me, Cicely. I’m good on my own. If there ever is anybody, he’ll have to complement me, not complete me. I’m content. Now go tell the kids to come give their Aunt Peyton a hug.”

“Will do.” I wandered through the backyard of the Veil House, and waved to Rhiannon. We would carve out our time to talk later on.

As I wandered through the expanse of yard behind the Veil House, I saw our children gathered over by the border to the Golden Wood.

First, there was Andy—the boy we’d rescued from the house. Rhiannon and Chatter had adopted him, and he had grown up a strong, trustworthy boy. He was skilled with herbs and had become a healer. Andy was also in love with my youngest daughter, Krystal, who was a telepath and a wolf-shifter, like her father. Krystal and Andy wanted to live in New Forest, so they would be marrying soon and taking over the Veil House for their own when Peyton moved into her own home across town.

For two years, she’d carried on at the Veil House after Luna died, but I couldn’t help but wonder if Peyton hadn’t been a little bit in love with our bard. I’d never ask her, and she’d probably never volunteer the information if she was, but part of me whispered that Peyton had fallen for Luna long ago.

To my left, at a picnic table, sat Rhiannon and Chatter’s son, Talker. He was eating alongside my second daughter, Amber. They were also headed for the altar. Or at least, Rhiannon and I suspected they might be.

The pair spent every moment they could together, and since neither was heir to the throne, we saw no need to force them to stay home all the time. They had to deal with the brunt of security guards and all that being the children of royalty entailed, but Rhiannon and I were determined that they grow up to lead their own lives. We were changing the rules of our realms, as much as we could, and integrating the Fae into the mainstream of life.

Lastly, our oldest daughters walked hand in hand. Rhia’s daughter—Hawthorn—had hair as red as the morning sky. My daughter, Yew, mirrored my own coloring. Once again, amber and jet would rule. Fire and ice. We had given birth to them on the winter solstice. Yew was born just before the stroke of midnight, when the night was at its darkest. Hawthorn was born twelve hours later, just after midday, when the Wheel had started to turn toward the light. Grieve and Chatter had been proud papas, that much was for sure.

With Hawthorn and Yew, tradition would rule out. We were grooming our daughters to one day take our places. They would remain with us, in the realms of Summer and Winter, until the day we were ready to return to the Golden Isle. They had accepted their fate and were content. Destiny would have its say, even when the future intruded.

Grieve slipped up beside me, wrapping an arm around my waist. “Enjoying the festival, my love?”

I nodded. “Yes, though each season, I feel a bit more alienated from the town. I suppose it’s what this life does. This is the price we pay. I spoke to Peyton. She’s doing well, but she misses Luna.”

“We all miss Luna. And Kaylin.” He pulled me close. “Tonight, you will stay with Lannan?” The old jealousy was long gone, buried under the strength of our love and of our children who cemented us together like glue.

With a shy laugh, I nodded. Two nights out of each year I spent with the vampire. We had come to an understanding over the years. Lannan would never mellow, but he respected me now, and he and Grieve even had found interests in common, though they would never be close friends.

“You do not mind?” I always asked, even though, after twenty-five years, the routine was down pat.

Lannan, of the golden hair and dark soul, had survived the fall, and for his bravery, he’d been handed the permanent keys to the Regency. Together, he and Regina ruled over New Forest without question.

“I do not mind. He saved your life once, and he saved my life. And then, he sacrificed himself so that you would have the chance to destroy Myst. You can’t fault a hero.” He grinned at me. “I know your heart belongs to me.”

And it did, even though Lannan and I had our fun. The truth was, at times Lannan and I just spent the night talking now. While the passion had settled into a comfortable friendship, when I needed him, I had the outlet twice a year to play in the dark, to safely vent out the memories of Cherish and Myst.

Now and then I met with his sister Regina, and we went shopping at night. The stores would open their doors to us. I’d learned more than I ever thought I would want to know about their lives—both before and after being turned—and I had developed a deep respect for them. Our friendship was forging new inroads for the relationship between the Fae and Vampire nations.

“My heart is in your hands, my love.” I kissed Grieve on the nose.

“Go. I can feel you’re antsy. Go flying for a while. You need it.” He slapped me on the butt, and I laughed, once again marveling that I had found my way back to him. The journey that had started forty-six years ago, in this lifetime, had ended up here. In this yard, on this night, under the summer moon.

I headed toward the oak tree. Grieve was right. I needed some time by myself. With every passing year, I enjoyed my time in owl form more and more. My grandfather and I had spent a lot of time together, and I was beginning to understand the true nature of the Uwilahsidhe, though—as he put it—it would be a lifelong journey. One day, I would meet my father again, and I hoped he and Lainule would be proud of how far I had come.

As I climbed the boughs, I remembered my first time. Pressured by an unknown force, I had climbed the tree, removed my clothes, and then plummeted headlong toward the earth. And for the first time, I had spread my wings and found true freedom, and had begun my journey toward finding out about my lineage.

Now, as I stared up at the glowing moon, I could hear the sounds of the festivities from below. Our people were content. We had relative peace. We had rebuilt New Forest after vanquishing Myst.

And the future? Only the Fates knew where it would lead.

Ulean, are you ready?

I’m here, Cicely. Where do you want to go?

Let’s head out over the forest. I want to fly hard and long.

I’m ready when you are.

You’ve got my back, Ulean? I always asked—it was our tradition.

And as she always did, Ulean laughed. Of course I do. I will always have your back. Forever. Call up the wind, Cicely, and let’s stretch those wings of yours.

And so I called to the wind, and a stiff breeze sprang up as I plunged forward off the tree, arms shifting into wings, body transforming, tail feathers growing. I spread my wings and turned on the wind, and with Ulean dancing and leapfrogging by my side, I flew into the night as the moon rose high over the trees, and the Golden Wood glowed with an unearthly, beautiful light.