EPILOGUE
(ONE MONTH LATER)
The air in the valley is crisp, smelling of damp earth and the woodsmoke from the chimney of Opal and Gareth’s farmhouse. It’s a quiet life here, far from the gilded cages of Electus Tower and the shattered structure of Havengard’s Elite.
I spend my mornings on the porch with Opal. We don’t talk much yet—there are twenty years of silence to fill—but we sit together, our shoulders occasionally brushing as we watch the mist roll off the hills.
The bitterness that Janine tried to use as a weapon has been replaced by a cautious, fragile hope.
“He’s on the news again,” Gareth calls from the kitchen, his voice tight.
I walk inside to see the small television screen. Alistair Singleton-Smith stands on a podium in Havengard City. He’s thinner, the "ascended" glow has burned out. Now Alistair is just an AUA—powerless, with an unlit spark—like all the others who sought the Dark.
“Tyrus Drakeward and Janine Hart were a cancer on our society,” Alistair tells the cameras, his voice smooth and practiced. “As the head of the reformed World Magic Organization, I promise that the era of Elite gatekeeping is over. Magic belongs to the people now.”
“Liar,” Donovan growls from the doorway, his broad shoulders leaning against the frame.
“He’s a politician, Donny,” Wes says, coming up behind me and resting his chin on my head. “He’s just shifting with the wind. Now that every person on the planet has a spark, he knows he can’t rule by blood anymore. He has to rule by bureaucracy.”
It’s not the perfect ending. The man who helped orchestrate so much misery is still in charge, but the world is different.
I see it everywhere: a baker accidentally levitating a tray of buns, or Willow out in the yard, laughing until she cries, trying to figure out how to tuck all her new tails away.
Surprise, surprise, she’s a kitsune—nine-tailed fox shifter. Not a trace of harpy to be seen.
Naomi watches her, giving encouragement, which comes from the authority of her sphinx. A Godsdamned sphinx.
But the world isn't letting us hide in the valley for long. A massive public petition has been circulating for weeks, signed by millions of newly ‘awakened’ citizens.
They don’t want Alistair’s old guard running the show alone; they’ve demanded that we—the ones who actually freed their sparks—have a seat at the table.
Because of that, we’ve officially left Validus Vale.
Our days of being students are over. We are now the, mostly reluctant, voices of the people on the High Council of the WMO.
I think Alexis and Cos are secretly loving the power.
The lightness in the room shifts when Alexis enters, holding a crumpled piece of paper.
“Bea brought us this. A Quo Reformare parolee delivered it to her.” Alexis’s expression is grim. “It’s from Taliesen.”
The room goes dead silent. My gaze flickers to Opal and Gareth as they clutch hands, waiting for news of their son. My brother.
“I’ve your sister, she’s safe for the moment, but I can’t guarantee for how long. Get her out of here—and me too—you owe me.”
Cosmo steps into the light. His lilac eyes—the permanent brand of his resurrection—glowing. “That little shit is in no place to negotiate.”
I feel his pain. Aurora is powerless, and trapped in a place designed to break the unbreakable. “We can’t shift or use our magic to get to her, but we’ll find an answer.”
“And we’re going to court soon to have Crankshawe’s guardianship revoked,” Wes reminds him gently. “Then we’ll have the legal means to get her out.”
“She’s sixteen, Godsdammit. And the only person we’ve got looking out for her is using her well-being as a bargaining chip.”
“If he wants your help to get out as well, I think that’s fair,” Opal says, fiercely defending her boy. “But whatever, Taliesin won’t let anything bad happen to her. I can promise you that. Come on, Gareth. Let’s go for a drive up to the ridge. I want to feel close to my boy.”
We watch them go.
“The Unbound had another piece of news that you may be interested in,” Alexis says, to Cosmo, taking the mug of coffee Maximus hands him.
“What?” Cos snaps.
“Francois de Vaux voluntarily checked himself into Quo Reformare.”
Mic drop.
Francois is in Quo Reformare?
With Rory?
“As a surrogate to Thomas, no doubt,” Cosmos spits. “Keeping an eye on his father’s property.”
I think about when Francois took my hand at that ridiculous Cadet club. How my Lumina wanted to go to him.
“I don’t know,” I murmur. “I don’t think that’s true.”
But Cosmo doesn’t listen. There’s murder in his eyes as he stomps outside.
Alexis drops a kiss on my head. “You OK, pulu?”
He asks me frequently. What he learned in Alistair's library has made him a tad…concerned. Harmonia is the Goddess who represents the balancing of cosmic forces. Her story is not straightforward, but paved with curse after curse.
“Completely,” I say, returning the kiss.
Then I move to Ludo, throwing my arms around his shoulders. During this whole discussion he’s been sitting at the kitchen table, staring down at a laptop. I know what he’s looking at.
The millionth time.
Striker’s profile of Regan Grieves.
Son of Doyle Grieves. AKA: The Ringmaster.
She sent a photo of Regan Grieves. A big man with dark hair and a stark scar bisecting the left side of his face.
—Bea says he’s gone to ground—
“Animals like that can’t stay hidden forever. He’s taken too many of Ashgrave’s children to ever be safe. They’ll find him. We’ll find him. Together, our two communities will take down his circus of horrors, I promise you, Ludo.” I move his face to look at me. “Do you believe me?”
—Yes, Nymph, I do…if you say it is so, then I will wait for your command to act—
Hmm, talking of commands.
Opal and Gareth are out, and Naomi and Willow are off getting furry.
“I’m looking for volunteers to get my Lumina replenished,” I say loud enough for everyone to hear. Even Cosmo who is sulking on the porch. Ludo stands up so fast his chair falls over.
Maximus tries to wrestle Lu out of the way, and that turns into a scuffle. Wes and Dono just stand either side of the flight of stairs, like perfect sentries. “Shall we go upstairs?” I ask Alexis.
But suddenly Cosmo is there. “May I, er, escort you?”
“Are you still grumpy?”
He frowns. “What’s that got to do with anything, I was voicing my opinion.”
Oh, Cosmo.
I still haven’t let him fuck me, but I’m sure keeping his bad-tempered mouth busy. “Come along then,” I say, grabbing his hand. He immediately perks up, then looks around smugly.
Not so fast dragon-boy.
“You can sit on the naughty chair again, while the others do whatever they want to my body.”
He sighs, but still has an excited grin on his face as he leads me up the stairs.
“I’m bringing my camera,” Wes calls out.
As my eyes glue to Cosmo’s perfect, tight ass, I wonder just how long I can keep this ‘punishment’ up.
But then Lu slips a hand between my legs and I get totally distracted.
Sorry, Cosmo, it’s another stint on the bad boy chair for you.
THE END
Keep reading for the first chapter of the Quo Reformare Correctional Facility Duet.