Epilogue
RUBY
SIX WEEKS AFTER
The invitation arrives with a sense of déjà vu.
Cream-colored cardstock. No envelope. Set neatly in the cubby marked “Ruby” in the back room of Agatha’s Apothecary they are branches on the same tree.” Here, her gaze slides over to Infinity, who squeezes Winter’s arm. “Thus, we honor our parents’ sacrifices and their vision for something new and fair regarding the balance and control of magic. We trust ourselves to know the limitations of our power and control in regard to returning the magical relics to each family member without binding them to a single point of control, but ultimately we refuse to reward dangerous agency to those who would and have used their power against us very recently.”
The Blackgates.
Handing them their relic and self-governance would be dangerous not just for the people standing here, but to every witch on the continent. And plenty of non-magical people like us too.
“As such, we have made the collective decision as a High Family majority to create a system of checks and balances not previously in place. The consolidation of the master relics was meant to stabilize and amplify our magic, by funneling the original lines through a central location to keep each line fed and safe from any unsavory designs by witches under our aegis.”
One look at the paper in my hand confirms Winter is reciting it nearly word for word.
“To preserve the stability we need for our witches, yet to provide the flexibility and balance we all would like to see going forward, we needed to come up with a piece of the pie for everyone involved.” Here, she smiles, going off script. “And, actually, that solution ended up being way more elegant than expected.”
Winter fishes a familiar choker out from beneath the high collar of her dress, and there, beside her key, is a ring. I would’ve thought it was Ursula’s, if not for everyone standing around the table, revealing their own rings on chains around each of their necks. The four stones are there—red, black, green, white—but there’s an additional flourish on every ring. An extra beveled line encircles the gems.
“Giving credit where it’s due, Auden, the genius, was able to magically multiply our High Sorcerer’s ring. All of us have identical copies, all equally tethered to the four relics, which each family holds, per the agreement.” Winter drops her necklace and gestures to the other families assembled. “Though the relics aren’t located in the same place geographically, we’ve found the multiple tether points keep the magic stable and safe in the same way a woven fabric is stronger than a single strand alone. In a way, we believe this is how the original masters were created—each of them mixed two lines of magic or more, perhaps proving that we’re stronger together than we are apart.”
Wren wriggles in joy next to me. “Oh man, the band’s staying together? I love this for you!”
Evander’s lips twitch. “You’ll love it more if you keep listening.”
That’s when I realize Auden is holding out a ring on a chain to me. I blink at him, somewhat aware that Evander’s hand is moving in the same revealing motion before Wren.
“We invited you tonight not only because we wanted to see you,” Auden says, “but because we want to include you.”
My sister flattens her free hand over her heart. “No. Way!”
“Yes, truly,” Evander says. “It’s right there in your copy of the agreement.”
Wren wrests the paper out of my hand and furiously scans the bottom at an angle I can’t read. I nudge it back, flattening the page until I can read the words.
Lines. Arrangement. Ring. Masters.
“If you accept the terms of the proposal, the procedure is exactly as it was in Ursula’s study. Your signature will be a thumbprint in your own blood.” Winter produces another parchment, unrolls it, and flashes the bottom. Six thumbprints shine a magic-infused shimmering crimson in the firefly light.
“And then both of us will be tied to the new lines,” I say slowly—not a question but a confirmation.
“Yes. You will be our fifth line.”
It’s right there, in the very last sentence.
“… hereby tying myself to the Five Lines as agreed to in terms one through twenty-one above…”
The Five Lines.
“Wait.” Wren holds up a hand, trying to process. “Will we be witches, like, can you do that?”
“Only biology can do that,” Infinity answers in that soft, erudite voice we’ve come to know. “What you will be is a safeguard. An additional line to keep us in check by providing an outside perspective we don’t have and, frankly, sorely need.”
My stomach flips.
A way to be one of them, even though we will never actually be witches.
This is both a gift and a shock. Wren must think so too, because not only is she silent beside me—for once in her life—but she slowly curls her hand into mine, pinky twining in the same promise I gave her over and over our last time here.
“We’ll have to redo all our internal branding.” Winter sighs, at first appearing annoyed, but then the corners of her mouth tip up as she looks straight at me, “but you know, it’s worth it.”
She taps the table and that’s when I realize for the first time that it’s not round, it’s actually five-sided. A pentagon. Five sides, one for each family.
Including us.
The Fifth Line.
We’re the ring around the four stones—the extra flourish on the outside, protecting the inner circle. I take a steadying breath and force myself to face the most recent iteration of my fears. This one—what they will do to us if we say no.
“And if we don’t accept?”
Auden’s gaze flickers across my face, an answer at the ready even as something that might be disappointment flashes in his eyes.
“Well, I’d hope you’d stay for a nice meal, and then afterward—or now, if you think it best not to draw it out—a simple spell is all it takes to make you forget you were ever here. Tonight, six weeks ago, at all.”
They can do exactly what Wren thought they could and would do. I’m not surprised, if anything it’s a testament to the bond we forged that, despite all the deceit, they didn’t do it before. Six weeks of us knowing. Six weeks of them trusting we wouldn’t tell. We didn’t.
My vision clears as I read every line of the contract as closely as possible. I want to know exactly what it says. No lies. No omissions. Nothing hidden.
As I do, my sister prods the elephant in the room. Or, perhaps, the missing elephant.
“And the Blackgates?” Wren asks.
Evander answers. “The same terms, though we have agreed to hold their master in escrow until they’ve made their decision. Though if they do accept, we will still hold their master relic for the next five years in accordance with the punishment of Lavinia and Kaysa Blackgate for their part in Marsyas’s plot to steal the master relics and High Sorcerer’s ring.”
It’s a relief that Lavinia, Kaysa, and Athena Blackgate don’t currently hold the magical relics that moved the dead and nearly killed us all.
Wren’s head tilts. “And if they don’t accept?”
I look up from the contract, curious, and, well, a little fearful.
Winter grins, tight but true. “They know where to find us.”
“But they won’t beat us!” Hex interjects, with a confident laugh. Ada elbows him hard. Honestly, he should’ve seen that coming.
“Let’s not invite any further animosity,” she tells him.
“So, will you join us?” Winter asks, circling back. “Do you accept?”
For once, Wren glances at me—waiting for my opinion first. Her decision is written all over her face, big eyes round, cheeks flushed, lips pressed together as if to keep her answer from bursting forth like it always does. Then, she surprises me further by grabbing my hand. “We need a second to talk it over.”
She tugs me a few steps away, toward the wall where we found the Great Bear and the Celestial relic, shadows falling like they did in that moment of triumph before it was shattered by Luna’s death. The green ivy brushes the backs of my arms, soft and so very alive. Wren lowers her voice and her wide eyes to mine.
“You know my answer—of course you do—but if I’ve learned anything it’s that your instincts are always better than mine. And I’m not incapable of some growth, especially with all the very large mistakes I made on this property. So .” Wren flicks her gaze over my shoulder to the table for the briefest of moments. “This is me saying, if you want to bolt, I’m here for the memory wipe and a ride home. We’re in this together. Sisters over witches.”
Despite the heaviness of it all, that last little bit makes me cough out a laugh.
“Sisters over witches every time.”
I flip our grip, twining my pinky around hers.
Holding fast to my sister, we turn to face the table below. Five sides, three full, two empty. Two chairs pulled out, waiting. One black rose in the other spot, marking the Blackgates’ absence.
Auden and Evander both palm the rings, chains dangling at their sides, the metal glinting under the lights, the night sky coming on fast over the high walls.
“We accept.”
There’s a flurry of movement, everything that had been stowed away the last five minutes in the name of maturity and propriety bursting free. Winter side-tackles Infinity into an embrace, the twins applaud, their family rings twinkling, and Evander and Auden approach, rings offered, the signing of the contract saved for later.
Wren squeezes my hand and leaps away, barreling straight for Evander just like she did when we arrived. This time, though, he’s ready, catching her by the waist and twirling them both in a way that has her sun-fire dress unfurling like the most beautiful of tropical flowers.
And then she’s a swirling background as Auden steps into my field of vision, hope in the cut of his mouth and furrow of his brow. That suit is liquid silk on his strong frame as he extends an arm, palm up, my own relic on offer.
I push my hair to one side and dip my chin in silent instruction, my eyes never leaving his. He slips the chain around my neck, gently arranging my hair back over both shoulders.
Then, for the second time in my life, Auden Hegemony holds me like I might disappear.
His hands cup my face, thumbs on my cheeks, eyes reading mine for permission. He’s close enough his forearms press warmly into my collarbones, the buttons of his shirt kissing the fabric of my dress’s bodice.
Instead of giving permission, I take what’s offered. Because I can. Because it’s true and sure and right in front of me, everything out in the open for once. I slide my arms around his waist, smoothing them up his back, and pull him in until his lips touch mine. I can finally close my eyes.
The lie wasn’t ours when we arrived here.
But this truth is ours. It’s literal magic. And I’m not going to let go.