Hilde
The bear shuddered to life.
The bear inhaled a massive breath, then let it out in a roar, stumbling forward.
All three of them stared at the bear. Then the Harrier raised his pistol, panic in his eyes.
The bear evidently did not like guns. It rushed at him with a growl.
The Harrier fired the pistol and hit the bear, which fell back to all fours and halted its advance.
But the bear was not the only creature stirring around them.
The badgers, the wolves, the birds: all of the creatures that the lords of Croftholde had slain over the centuries shivered, the air around them crackling with the spark of life.
The Harrier stared at the moth-bitten army of creatures surrounding him, eyes wide.
Elmwood pulled free of Hilde and stepped forward, and all the creatures stepped forward with him.
The Harrier turned tail and ran.
Caught up in some instinctive tide, the animals tore out of the room after him, a rushing river of fur and teeth.
Elmwood and Hilde were alone.
Breathless, she closed the space between them and flung her arms around him again.
“Elmwood,” she said quietly, “I don’t know how much time this has bought us or what is going to happen next, but I want you to promise me something.”
She pulled back a little so they could see each other. He was rumpled and weary, and she thought then that he had never been more compelling, with the last little sparking waves of their Charms mixing making his unruly curls frizz out a little around his face.
“I’m listening,” he said.
“I want you to swear that you are not going to turn yourself in. I don’t care how guilty you think you are or how much you yearn for oblivion.”
“It may be that once you hear what I did in Relance, you’ll feel differently. I’ll tell you everything this time. I won’t hold back.”
She shook her head, lifting her hand to cup the side of his jaw.
“I will listen to anything you wish to tell me, but only if you relate it to me when you’re ready. Ideally over the course of the many years I hope we will spend together.”
She thought he might protest. But then he smiled, and it was a beautiful, joyful smile.
“Well,” she said, returning it. “Do I have your word?”
He answered her with a kiss. It was quick by necessity, but she could tell it was a promise.
When they cautiously returned to the entryway, the front doors were wide open. The Harrier was gone, along with all the animals.
In the dining room, Thorgoode sat upright in a chair. Francie was tending to a cut on his temple, and Cook was passing him apple-filled pastries, which he downed almost mechanically, one by one.
They stepped back and away from him as Hilde and Elmwood entered.
Observing his dazed expression and his compulsive chewing and swallowing, Hilde could now see that he was no longer her Thorgoode.
There were echoes of the man who had been her husband, but he was changed.
Death and resurrection had transformed him, much as her time being his widow had transformed her, and they were no longer the same people.
He glanced between her and Elmwood. They were still holding each other’s hands, and she resisted the urge to drop Elmwood’s guiltily. To do so would be a lie, and she was very tired of lies.
Thorgoode watched her decide not to let go. His brow furrowed. When he finally spoke, his words were not what she was expecting.
“I died,” he said. “On my way home that night.”
“Yes,” she replied, as gently as she could. She released Elmwood, then went to kneel beside Thorgoode’s chair, resting her hand on his knee.
“And my brother? Where is he?”
“He fled,” said Elmwood.
Thorgoode nodded slowly. “Glad I got a chance to beat the shit out of him. Should have done it a long time ago.” He paused, blinking several times. “I don’t feel like myself. The fire’s burnt down to the embers.”
Hilde squeezed his knee. She didn’t know what to say, or how to comfort him. She couldn’t believe she had ever thought it was a good idea to bring him back and make him go through this. He did not deserve it.
“I can try Charming you again,” said Elmwood.
Hilde looked over at him, startled that he would make such an offer.
“I…think not,” said Thorgoode, taking Hilde’s hand in his own.
“What I want is to do right by you, wife, and by Croftholde. While there’s time.
” She had forgotten how big his hands were.
They made hers look so small by comparison.
There was no reason why such a thing should cause her eyes to well up.
“I’m not certain how,” he continued. “I don’t know what needs doing, and it would take too long to fetch my lawyer from Neck, I think. ”
“Why is it that one’s lawyer is always turning up at the most inopportune times but is never around when one needs to consult with him?” Elmwood mused.
“You’re going to feel very foolish for saying that,” said a new voice from the doorway.
They turned, and there was Mr. Winthrop.
“Win!” said Elmwood. “I thought I told you to get as far away from here as you could.”
“Why,” said Winthrop, “would I ever listen to you?”
“I’m very happy to see you,” said Elmwood, stepping toward him.
But then other people appeared behind him—a lot of them.
Ed, and Jak, and Rud. Young Ian, the Bramleys, the Fortuny boys, and even the new farrier.
Most of the village were filing into the Hall.
Hilde also recognized the magistrate from Bilford and wondered where he’d come from.
As they all pushed their way into the room, she realized that the Fortuny boys were holding the Harrier between them. He looked very rough, covered all over in bites and scratches and his clothing torn. His mustache had drooped and was hanging limply and absurdly over his lips.
“Well, you may not be quite so happy once you’ve heard what’s going on,” said Mr. Winthrop. “For I have both good tidings and bad.”