Chapter Thirty
They walked to the top of the hill together. Her, and Bram, and Anaya, and Frank. The plan all settled in their minds, but
still each of them wondering, worrying, looking to one another for strength. “What if this was the wrong decision? What if
people freak out?” Frank said once they were there, the barrier between the school and the ordinary world visible now to his
wary eyes.
It looked like a sickly storm cloud over a sunny day.
Like something that was ailing, anyway. Of course it was ailing. It wasn’t the natural order to hoard magic. To insist that the beings within Calabaraia shouldn’t be the ones
to decide who was welcome to see.
“It will only be those who welcome it in return,” Anaya reassured him.
Though of course he already knew. They all did. They had spent the whole of last term scouring the library for all the secrets
they needed. The hidden histories of other places who had already made things fair. Shared magic with all who were meant to
have it, who were worthy of it, in the only way that mattered.
If you do no harm, Lilibet thought.
If you tread lightly, live kindly.
See a skinny little boy and think, How can I lessen his grief?
“So how do we begin again?” Bram asked, but as he did, he was already taking her hand.
And she took Anaya’s, and Anaya took Frank’s.
And then they let themselves open to the place they were about to call out to.
Calabaraia, we have come to you to say these rules are not the wishes of this land, she thought.
We believe in more. We believe we can be more; we only lack your light to guide the way.
And she knew the others thought the same.
She felt their voices in her head.
All of them reaching out to show Calabaraia the truth instead of a hundred years of lies.
This is who we are; this is who exists in this land and asks of you with the same weight as an authority who told you otherwise, she thought.
And for just a moment, it seemed nothing was heard.
She held her breath, answered only by silence.
It’s been too long like this, she despaired.
They have decided we have withered.
That we should be left behind by the dance.
But then she felt Bram’s hand squeeze hers, as impossible as the moon replacing the sun in the sky. Her love returned to her,
after all this time. And she had no choice not to believe. She would always believe now.
Everything is possible now, she thought.
Then in the distance, she heard the horn of the great hunt.
As the barriers between worlds were the thing to wither, and finally melt away.