Epilogue
The grand re-opening was still to come, but there was far too much to celebrate that night. We had no choice but to pile around the bar and toast to all of our little victories.
To Roy, who found that Tanner’s farm had bypassed his estranged family and landed firmly in the hands of his best friend.
To Magnus and Will, whom Roy had promptly gifted the land, having spent months teaching Will how to farm and harvest cabbage.
To Sorcha, who was to be the chief barmaid of our newly refurbished tavern, and was practically vibrating with excitement at the prospect. She was currently standing with a cloth in hand, wiping the counter and effectively marking her new territory.
“And to Roz and Caelan,” she called from behind the bar, in a voice so bubbly and buoyant you’d be forgiven for thinking it sweet.
She lifted her glass, tilting her head and batting her lashes.
“For being the most stubborn fools I’ve ever heard of and taking half a year to realise what everyone else knew from the start. ”
Roy snorted into his pint, apparently in agreement and though I slapped his shoulder lightly, I was laughing too. It was Caelan who shot my cousin a sideways smirk and said; “That so, Miss Sorcha? Tell me, you spoken to Brennan lately?”
Sorcha chucked a teatowel at his head, her face flaming while I laughed myself hoarse and Magnus crowed; “Brennan? There’s a Brennan?!”
“And we can’t forget,” Sorcha cried, now a little loud and shrill with the effort of drowning Magnus out, “a toast to The Mage and Rose.”
Still blushing, she reached across the bar and gathered our glasses, making as much clatter as possible when she poured us each a refill.
“I don’t know that it is The Mage and Rose anymore,” I said, taking my glass.
This was met with a sad hum from Will, but I quickly shook my head.
“No, it’s our family’s legacy, it always will be. But –”
“But it’s a new beginning,” Magnus finished for me.
I smiled in answer, and he shot me a wink.
“What about just The Mage,” said Magnus, drawing his palm out before him with an air of grandeur.
I dropped my smile and turned in my stool to aim a kick at his shin; he dropped the grand airs to kick me back.
“What about The Nursery,” said Sorcha, leaning over the bar to whip us apart with yet another teatowel. “Since this is the childishness I’m forced to endure from my elders?”
“Elders?” I cried, while Mags clutched at his chest, aghast.
“What about The Hearth?”
We turned as one to glance at Caelan, who was looking just at me, a familiar green glow in his eye and that ember within him gently reaching out.
“The Hearth,” Will said slowly, then clapped a hand on my brother’s knee. “Cosy. Nice nod to the two of you, and the family home. I love it.”
“To The Hearth, then,” said Magnus, raising his glass.
“The Hearth,” we echoed.
And even as I took that ceremonial sip, I couldn’t resist the magnetic draw of Caelan’s eyes. Gods, they were beautiful; green as a summer forest and warmer still.
Warmer than ever before.
It occurred to me then, that if my magic had burrowed deep beneath Caelan’s heart and warmed his Serpent’s blood, perhaps something of his had taken root in me too.
I felt it in some ineffable way; something shimmering and shifting, entwined with my own Flame.
It felt very much as though I had shed my unwanted fears like a discarded skin.
Not a shred of regret. Nothing to guard my heart, because I didn’t need to.
I sat there in that feeling, revelled in it. How could I not? My whole chest singing to my soulmate, in the place that was at once my past and future, surrounded by a family of my own making.
And I knew, in that moment, that I was nothing if not changed.
The End