Epilogue
Today, I saw a burrowing hare in a small clearing, nibbling on the fresh green grass. Never before have I glimpsed one so early in the year. I decided to ask Agata about it, but then a wild notion seized me: I could ask the island instead.
So I did. The answer was not audible, but I wept, because I heard it, all the same.
Rahvekya said, This is a new day.
Archivist Matilda
The island was one of Aleksi’s favorites, second only to Rahvekya.
This one was, of course, much smaller. It nestled in the center of the lake closest to his villa, and afforded a lovely view of not only his home but the rolling hills and valleys of his vineyards, as well. The beauty of the landscape was simply unmatched.
“Aleksi!” Naia called his name, then broke into smiling laughter as Einar nuzzled her neck. “The wine?”
Almost unmatched.
“At once.” The handblown glass bottles clinked as he hefted the crate and began to cross the pavilion.
He had planned to ask Ash to add the open-air structure as a place to gather and eat and drink and laugh as they enjoyed the view and each other’s company.
But then Ulric had offered to build it, and so Ash had only carefully quarried the stone.
Ulric had spent much of the summer at the villa, working on the project.
As a result, he and Aleksi had passed many evenings in quiet conversation, something they had not done in decades.
Now, the rest of his friends had gathered for a celebration in honor of the first day of the Wolf’s Moon. Aleksi had felt it only right and proper, since Ulric had worked so hard, to offer to host the accompanying party at the villa. He had more space, and Ulric had hardly had time to prepare.
So they had gathered in the pavilion for the first time. A buffet stretched across one side of the space, while clusters of benches and chairs surrounded the rest of the perimeter. And a merry fire blazed in the middle of the space, to ward off the first chill of autumn.
Aleksi stopped first by the cluster of seats, where Sachi and Zanya were speaking to Gwynira and Isa with great animation while Ash looked on with fond amusement.
“Wine?” Aleksi offered. “It’s my newest vintage. One of my best, I think.”
“Yes, please.” Sachi reached out.
He drew the crate back, out of reach. “Ah, patience, love. This one tastes best when chilled.” He turned an expectant look on Gwynira. “If you would be so kind?”
Gwynira extended a hand and brushed one finger over the edge of the crate. Chill frost covered the bottles at once, and she sat back in her chair with a smile. “I cannot wait to taste this. Inga has raved about your special vintages.”
“Inga overstates my skill,” Aleksi demurred.
“She does not,” Zanya told Gwynira. “It will ruin you for any other wine.”
“I certainly hope so.” Aleksi spared a moment to admire Ash’s jacket. It had been fashioned from beautifully woven fabric that changed color as Ash shifted in the firelight and was adorned with exquisite embroidery.
Hilja certainly was quickly making a name for herself in the Sheltered Lands.
Aleksi passed a bottle of wine to Ash, hesitated, then gave him two more.
His old friend grinned at him as he opened the first and began to pour.
“You’re all in for a treat today. Aleksi’s wines always taste the best when he’s deliriously happy.
The grapes he grew this summer are likely to be his best in a thousand years. ”
“Well, now we’ve just moved on to sheer flattery.” Aleksi winked at them. “Isa, how are you and Gwyn enjoying the Witchwood?”
“It’s beautiful,” Isa said, her smile full of soft wonder. “I’ve never seen so many colors. Even the birds and the insects glow!”
“You could, as well. All you have to do is ask Inga.”
Gwynira actually laughed, a husky sound that was rare, but growing in frequency.
“Don’t encourage her. Those two keep disappearing into the smithy that Inga built for her.
I suspect the next swords she gifts you will glow or sparkle.
” Gwynira stroked a fond hand over Isa’s hair, pure joy in her eyes. “They’re having enormous fun.”
“Good. Save a sparkly axe for me.” Aleksi smiled as their laughter swelled behind him.
Elevia and Ulric were huddled together on a much smaller seat built for two, laughing and talking in low tones. Elevia had often been at the villa over the past few months, as well. These days, she and Ulric were rarely separated for long.
She looked up at Aleksi’s approach. “Finally. When did you become such a lackadaisical host?”
Aleksi arched an eyebrow at her. “You could have fetched your own wine.”
“Scandalous.”
Ulric huffed out a laugh but rose to claim a bottle from the crate. He opened it and poured Elevia a glass before taking a sip directly from the bottle. “It’s good.”
“Thank you, Ulric.”
The Wolf sank back onto the seat next to Elevia and stretched out his legs, crossing them at the ankle. “I know it’s almost time for me to return home and see to my own lands, but I’ll miss the vineyards. Do you think I could grow grapes in the Midnight Forest?”
Aleksi hated to dash his dreams, but it was called the Midnight Forest for a reason. “Unfortunately not. But you’re welcome to cultivate them here, and I’ll watch over them for you.”
“See?” Elevia leaned close against Ulric’s side. “Crisis averted.”
“Speaking of crises . . .” Aleksi blew out a breath. “What news from the former Empire?”
“All is quiet.” Elevia swirled the wine in her glass.
“The Stalker is in hiding. Even the situation with the young Dreamers and Voidlings has calmed. Which lends credence to my theory that Eirika was stirring up all that trouble to keep us occupied and scrambling. It’s what I would have done.
” She flashed Ulric a wicked smile. “If I were evil, that is.”
“I’m relieved every single day that you are not.” Ulric threw an arm across the back of their seat and toyed absently with Elevia’s hair as he turned back to Aleksi. “We know the Stalker is vengeful, though. Elevia’s spies will be watching for signs she’s planning to move against you.”
“Of that, I have no doubt.” Aleksi was not worried about Eirika—she was, presumably, far too intelligent and savvy to come at him in his own home. But it was nice to have friends looking out for him. “Do you two need anything else?”
“Go.” Elevia raised her glass in salute. “But keep the wine coming.”
Nyx and Inga were sitting close together near the fire while Arktikos hovered behind them.
He was taking the whole life debt thing very seriously.
He would rarely leave Inga’s side unless she needed privacy, and Aleksi had begun to suspect that the man slept outside of her chamber door, just in case interlopers breached Witchwood Castle as Inga slumbered.
“Wine?” Aleksi asked, but only Nyx looked up at him. They widened their eyes and pressed their lips together to suppress a smile.
“At least sit down,” Inga ground out, her voice approaching the edge of frustration that always ended poorly for whoever was irritating her. Then she glanced up at Aleksi and threw up her hands. “Aleksi, make him sit down.”
Aleksi held out a bottle of wine. “Would you like to sit, Arktikos?”
The man intercepted the bottle, opened it, and began to fill the glass in front of Inga. “I am fine standing, thank you.”
Aleksi shrugged. “He’s fine standing.”
Inga pinched the bridge of her nose as if warding off a headache—or trying to keep her temper. “What part of a life debt obligates you to wait on me hand and foot? I can pour my own wine. I can do it without lifting a finger!”
Nyx made a surreptitious gesture encouraging Aleksi to flee, and he considered that an excellent idea. “Enjoy!” he called over his shoulder as Nyx tried to quell a snort.
Dianthe stood with Naia and Einar near the plain stone railing that overlooked the lake. Aleksi joined them and placed the crate, now only half full of wine bottles, on the end of the buffet table.
Einar plucked up one of the remaining bottles and began to fill several glasses. “Inga seems exasperated. Am I going to have to rescue Arktikos?”
“Not at all. I have faith in him.” Aleksi kissed Einar and retrieved two of the glasses. “Everyone enjoyed dinner.”
“Brynjar may never forgive us for stealing Harlen away.” Einar smiled wickedly. “I tried to tell him it was really Hilja’s fault, but then she sewed him that fancy new captain’s jacket, and now he gets to officiate the wedding.”
“Outmaneuvered by your tailor. Ouch.” Aleksi shook his head, then stepped behind Naia, wrapped his arms around her, and offered her the wine. “My love.”
“Thank you.” She accepted the glass, but placed it on the railing beside her. “Dianthe and I were just discussing options for renaming the month after next.”
The Betrayer’s Moon. Aleksi hummed and inhaled the salty scent of Naia’s hair. “And what have you two come up with?”
“It’s an interesting quandary.” Dianthe accepted the final glass of wine from Einar.
“Over the years it has developed certain associations. The darkest and coldest month of the year, even considered unlucky. We celebrate the Dragon’s Moon, when the days grow longer again, because of the legends of how Ash drove the Betrayer from the Sheltered Lands.
It seems cruel to saddle another person with such a fraught legacy. ”
Then perhaps the answer was to change their outlook. “Winter is as lovely in its own way as any other season,” Aleksi mused. “The associations do not have to be negative. We could reclaim it.”
Einar tilted his head, indicating where Gwynira sat with the others. “It seems to me we already have a goddess of winter. The Ice Queen’s Moon has a nice ring to it.”
Naia laughed. “You’d best ask before you consign her to being part of our calendar.”
“She does have a certain flair,” Dianthe mused. “An ice festival might be a welcome diversion for the people. Much better than the tradition of sitting in fear and grief.”