Epilogue
O ne Year Later
Isabel beamed down at the simple band of silver on her finger, still not used to the way it felt against her skin. Karim had bought it for her from a stall at the autumn equinox festival in the last town they’d passed through, sliding it on her finger with a grin that had made her flush down to her toes. Then they’d flitted hand-in-hand through the stalls beneath the strings of colorful orb fire until they’d found the village elder, who’d been surprised but delighted to perform a hand-fasting ceremony on such short notice.
That night they’d dined on roasted mutton—a specialty in the western Alliance lands—and a plethora of other hearty dishes. They’d written Sophia’s and Akil’s names on a scrap of paper before tossing them soberly into the bonfire in remembrance. Then they’d retired early, though they didn’t sleep until much later that night.
Isabel had never imagined she’d get married so far from her tiny village in the north of Rendra. Never imagined that she’d get married at all. But then, she’d also never imagined most of the things that had happened to her in the past year either.
After the Inetians had left through Paarsav’s door, Isabel and Karim had made their way back down to Medina Acil, and then finally back to the Rendran capital—without a boost from her shadows.
Cassandra and Arphaxad had been troubled by the news of Gustav’s disappearance but didn’t ask too many questions about what had happened to the rest of the Inetians. The Mediran king was still in an uproar about the escape, but Lady Salandris had done an impressive job of talking the king down, even when the Inetian emperor had expressed his extreme disapproval.
“I think she’s even better than you were at this, dear,” Cassandra had said to her husband, giving him a playful pat on the cheek.
“Well, thank goodness I was ordered to marry you,” he returned, his eyes sparkling.
“Thank goodness, indeed,” Cassandra had said .
The Inetian emperor had been predictably livid about the entire situation, and relations between Medira and Ineti had cooled considerably. Which had been a headache and a half for Rendra, though it seemed the Inetian emperor was starting to think that maybe Rendra was more worth his attention than Medira was.
The queen had been disappointed but understanding when Isabel had turned in her notice. Isabel knew she owed a lot to Cassandra and the queen for giving her a chance to prove her worth, but she also knew that Karim had been right—there was a lot to figure out about their magic. And no one nation—even one with a good-hearted ruler such as the Rendran queen—should have access to the kind of destruction Isabel had wrought in the hall of the citadel.
Ever since the confrontation with Gustav—and probably before that even—her shadows had been different, more reactive, more palpable. Even when she wasn’t touching Karim—and she’d been touching him a lot more lately—they rose up with hardly more than a thought. Something had shifted since her shadows had first started rising, and she wasn’t fully sure what it was.
She and Karim had wandered together through Rendra and into the Alliance lands, searching out forgotten texts and listening to gap-toothed elders speak of magic that was used to help and to heal, old stories that had been passed down through generations. They’d spent nights sifting through Isabel’s shadows and striving to understand more about how Karim’s wards worked. They wove wards of peace and calm and protection into items villagers brought to them in exchange for food and a place to sleep.
A few times, Karim spoke of looking for Paarsav and the rest of the Inetians, and Isabel always kept her ears open for word of a strange band of warriors looking for a home.
But most of all, they had been happy.
There were times when the old fear of her shadows returned, and there were times when Karim was wracked with nightmares of his brother, of a horrific rift torn in the fabric of the world and the dark things that came through it. But every time, they were there to hold each other and tell each other it was going to be okay.
Now, in a small village in the far west of the Alliance lands, Isabel twisted the silver band on her finger, the shadows of the deepening night wrapping around her like a warm embrace. Karim stoked the flames of their cookfire, then came to sit down beside her.
“Hey,” he said, pulling her against him, his lips nestling in her hair.
“Hey,” she said. She leaned into him, allowing his familiar scent to wash over her .
Warmth moved through her in a wave, and it had nothing to do with the heat of the fire. This was where she belonged—her whole life had been spent drifting between shadows. But now he was here with her, drifting through the shadows together, so she didn’t have to wander alone anymore.
She leaned up and gave him a quick kiss at the corner of his jaw. His arms tightened around her. “I love you,” he whispered.
Isabel couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face. She stopped him as he leaned down to kiss her. “I love you too,” she said.
Then she pulled his face back down to hers and kissed him beneath the flickering shadows in the clear, moonlit night.