I could not have called what followed a honeymoon, but as much as possible my friends insulated me from the demands of diplomacy, saying that showering my attention on Ivy counted toward that work. Ivy found this argument specious but she said so while laughing, so I was not disposed to debate the matter. We tarried in one another’s arms, or took long walks either in public view or hidden from it by magic, and became known as Evertrue’s fairy tale couple, the prince out of storybooks and his human bride. It was a rare day we paid for any of our own meals or gifts, so eager were merchants to flatter us, and Ivy found all this absurd and funny and so did I.

But one duty I did not delegate. My visits to the chapel where Almond awaited her ceremony usually took place in the mornings while Ivy was still sleeping and I could be alone with her in that quiet before everyone began stirring. I prayed there, if fervent wishing that she was happy in Heaven counted, and then left her to her repose, and in this pattern I continued until the night before she was due for cremation. Then I excused myself from my loved ones and went to keep a vigil at her bier. The clergy and laymen knew me by then, and respected my desire for privacy, and so I found myself alone in the little stone hall with her.

Would she have liked the chapel better, I wondered? It was like the Cathedral writ small, a miniature that might have suited the childlike genets better had they decided to build their own churches. Like the larger building it was pierced with stained glass, though the colors were muted, lit now only by the banks of candles that gave their sweet honeyed smell to mingle with the perfume of incense. In this dim cocoon, the silence seeming muffled by the close stone walls, I kneeled before the altar. As time crept forth, my head slowly bowed until my brow rested on the stone table.

“You would have liked the wedding.”

My voice was too loud for this conversation, and barely audible. I hadn’t planned to speak to her. Had not been able to yet. But having begun, I continued, my throat tight around every syllable. “The flowers, and the music… and everyone there. Even Kelu looked—” I paused. “Well, not happy precisely. But interested. Entertained.” I smiled. “And so many genets. Do you know the Parliamentary building is flooded with them? It feels that way anyway. All these cold stone buildings, Almond, and then these knots of bright fur. Like flowers. Marzipan didn’t bring every genet with her through the Door, but many of your sisters came. Some of them are planning to stay in Vigil. I think they like the climate.”

My chuckle was watery. “God, I can’t believe I’m talking about the weather when what I want to say is… I miss you. I wish… I feel…” I pressed my fist to my forehead, struggling. “Your death was so unnecessary. I would probably have healed that wound. To save you I would have certainly healed that wound. If it meant you would still be here. Almond—” I let my hand fall down over my eyes, my breath coming too short now. “I wish you were here.”

And then I wept, not just because I missed her, but because I’d hoped for some miracle to bring her back to me.

In the next hours I made some peace with my grief. The floor was hard and while the candles provided some warmth their scent soon became cloying. But I did not begrudge this final night with her, and had long since ceased to note the passage of time when the door at the end of the chapel creaked on its hinges. Surprised and irritated, I looked to see who’d interrupted my farewell.

“I hope you’re not here to stop me,” Kelu said.

Since these were the last words I expected from her, it took me a moment to understand them, and once I did… I still didn’t understand them. “I beg your pardon?”

She glanced at me as she padded to the altar. “You’ve been crying.”

“I loved her.”

“I guess that’s as good a reason as any.” Kelu folded her arms. “Do you know what they intend to do with her in the morning?”

“Burn her,” I said. “So that her corpse will never rise a revenant?”

“Yes,” Kelu said. “That. Do you know how that works though?” At my blank expression, she said, “I thought it was some sort of ceremony with bonfires, but it’s not. They put her in an oven. An oven, Morgan. They’re not putting Almond in any oven while I still have teeth.”

“You’ll have teeth when you’re dead,” I said, grasping for sense in the conversation.

“And if I get re-animated by some new stupid elf or human who decides a demon’s a better idea than dealing with jealousy or bitterness, then I’ll still make sure no one burns her in an oven.” Kelu shook her head. “Besides, it’s stupid and unnecessary and even you should know that.”

“I should?”

Her exasperation was patent. She tapped the medallion hanging from her collar. “Remember this?”

“The collars—oh! But when you said removing them killed you, I assumed that meant it produced a corpse!”

“No,” Kelu said. “It produces dust. Sometimes. Sometimes all you’ve got left is a collar.” She drew in a shuddery breath, and at this first sign of her distress I grew very still. “So I’m here to take her collar off. Don’t stop me.”

“I won’t,” I said, quieter. At her suspicious glance, I said, “I don’t like the thought of her in an oven either.”

Kelu nodded and stepped up to the altar. Once there she just… looked at Almond. What thoughts traveled through her mind at this last sight of the genet who’d been her companion—her friend—for nearly all her life? She let nothing change her expression, and only the long hesitation suggested the words she would not speak aloud. Then she reached for the collar and with a few quick tugs, unbuckled it and snapped it free of Almond’s neck.

The body collapsed into powder. Just like that: one moment, a genet peaceful in repose, almost as if sleeping… the next, nothing.

“There,” Kelu said. “It’s done.” She turned her back on the altar and stepped down, heading for the aisle. I watched her retreating back, then looked back at the remains. And froze.

“Kelu,” I hissed.

“You can’t have the collar,” Kelu said. “If that’s what you want to ask—”

“Kelu!”

The genet turned back. I heard her footfalls as she ran back to me, for the powder was rising into a sinuous spiral, and a light not of the candle’s making was swelling on the altar. I stood as Kelu halted beside me and we watched the shimmer of Almond’s earthly remains become a gleaming, and then a shape, and then a familiar face: painted in light on the world, but a friendlier light than any angel’s.

“Almond?” Kelu said, voice harsh.

Her voice was just as I remembered it, but in the silences that followed her words I could hear sleigh bells and laughter. “Kelu! It is me! For a little while.”

“A little… a little while… what… Almond…”

I could scarcely blame Kelu for her shock, though I felt, for my part, a settling sorrow. If we were being visited, then there would be no miracle return to life for Almond. This was the last we would know of her, and so I watched and sealed to memory the sweetness of her gaze and the love in her voice.

“You didn’t think God would forget us?” Almond said.

“I didn’t think God ever knew us,” Kelu answered, ears flattening, and then hastened at the sight of Almond’s disappointment, “I just… I didn’t mean… I thought…” Marshaling herself, she said, “I thought the angel came to you because you were good, Almond. You, by yourself. That you were a genet wasn’t material.”

“But it was,” Almond replied, serious. “And so I’m here with gifts.”

“Gifts,” Kelu repeated, tail sagging.

The ghost nodded. “I don’t understand how it works. The angels… you don’t talk to them, really. You don’t talk to anyone. You just… are. And you know things, but not everything, or at least, I don’t yet. Maybe I haven’t gone over completely?” She paused, pondering this with a wonder and an anticipation that made my eyes spill. Then she continued, “But I was given a Choice, and Choices come to the races of the earth.”

“We’re not one of the races of the earth,” Kelu said, her voice unsteady. “We’re constructs. Sorcerer’s toys.”

“We were,” Almond said. “We’re not going to be anymore. Tomorrow all of you will wake up with decades in front of you.”

“Almond,” Kelu whispered, trembling.

“And some of you are going to wake up boys,” Almond added, so apologetically I started laughing. Both of them glanced at me.

“I’m sorry,” I said, and then found myself consumed by another attack. Pressing my fingers to my mouth, I added, “About laughing, not about your having to become male. I assure you, it’s not all so bad as that.”

Almond shook herself, then said to Kelu, “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I thought you could be the first genet boy.”

“Genet man,” Kelu muttered. “Genet male?”

“Genet king,” I offered.

Now their glances were speaking: Almond’s, approving, and Kelu’s panicked. To the latter, I said, “It’s not all so bad as that, being king, either.”

“No,” Kelu said, firm. “No, I’m sorry.” She looked up at Almond. “I really am, but I’m not the person for that job. I’m…” She sucked in a breath. “I’m bitter, Almond. I’m still so angry. I don’t know how to be anything else. If… if it’s true that you’ve won us decades to live, maybe I’ll have the time to change. But if we’re about to become a real race, you need someone in charge who isn’t still full of hate.”

I expected Almond to argue this, but she only nodded. “Do you have any ideas who we should pick, then?”

“Emily,” Kelu said promptly. She eyed me, then told Almond, “I know the elves think that only men should be kings, but we can see how well that’s worked for them. We should have female queens and heirs. Emily would be the first to say so after all the stories about equality Ivy’s been filling her head with. Who knows, maybe it’ll have done some good. And Serendipity’s going to be too busy being the first genet mage…” She trailed off. “That’s real, isn’t it? She can do magic.”

“She can,” Almond said. “And she will be a great magician once the change goes through.” She tilted her head. “So you won’t be king. But will you be male? I told the angel I thought it would suit you. The magic… you know in us it will be like in every other race. I thought you’d like the ‘shape the world’ magic better than the ‘shape people’ one.”

Kelu’s ears flipped back. “It would feel more natural.”

“She prefers to shape people by biting them,” I agreed.

“You’re taking this very lightly,” Kelu said, tail lashing.

“Yes,” I said. And couldn’t help my grin. “Yes. Because God is great, and who couldn’t laugh knowing that?”

Almond sighed, beaming. “Oh, Master. I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Almond. You taught me… you taught me so much.”

She shook her head. “But once I’m gone this time, I’ll be with you always. I think that’s how it works. I’ll be in the world. And in every new genet that’s born. There will be genet babies! Can you imagine how sweet they’ll be?”

“I can’t, no,” I said. “But I am eager to find out.”

Her sigh this time was replete. Returning her attention to Kelu, she said, “So, you’ll do it? I’d like someone to have the change before everyone else so they can be prepared.”

“I will, yes,” Kelu said, and hesitated. “What… do I do, exactly?”

“Just stay, just like that.”

Kelu straightened and lifted her chin, hands fisted at her sides. “I’m ready.”

Almond smiled, then leaned forward until her glowing nose brushed Kelu’s. Just that: a benison, a touch, and with it… a change. A subtle one: the fur running down Kelu’s back darkened and developed spots, and I thought her muzzle and shoulders grew a touch broader. But without glancing at her groin, I would not have thought her different.

“There,” Almond said. “Better?”

To my surprise, Kelu blinked back tears. “Better,” she—he said, voice too husky for me to discern any difference in pitch.

“Promise me if Emily wants you for king-consort you’ll think about it?” Almond added.

“Since she’ll have years to badger me into it, I guess I’ll have to.” Kelu wiped his eyes. “Almond… I never said…”

“You don’t have to.”

“But I want to.” Kelu lifted his muzzle. “I loved you.”

Almond poured off the altar in a river of silt, reforming in a spectral embrace with the other genet. “I know. But I’m so glad you said so. Maybe you’ll learn to say it to other people now.”

“Maybe. Maybe.”

With a glad sigh, Almond swirled back and came to me. “I have to go. You’ll make sure everyone is all right?”

“I’ll take especial care of them until they can stand alone,” I said. “But I don’t think that will take much time with Emily for queen and Kelu to chivvy them into making their own decisions.”

“I don’t think so either,” Almond said, ears pricked. “Please take care of the drake too. There will ever only be one of them, from what I understand. For as long as any of us will know, anyway. Maybe in a few thousand years there will be a new choice, and a new race.”

“And maybe they’ll tell stories of the first drake, who ferried flowers to and from a tiny animal’s wedding?” I said.

She giggled. “Maybe.” And wrapped herself around me. I could just sense her, enough to get my arms around her, but it was like holding a memory, and light, and a slip of happiness. My body wanted to weep and smile, so I did both. “Master,” she said softly.

“Almond,” I said. And ridiculously, added, “You were right about the glasses. I was sad to lose them.”

“You’ll do all right without them now,” she said. “The gift of reading people will stay with you, I promise. I’ll make sure.”

Parting from us, she hovered over the altar, turned and looked at the chapel. “It’s so pretty. I think I like it better than the Cathedral….”

“I knew you would,” I whispered as the light began to dim.

“Goodbye!” Kelu added, voice cracking.

And then she was gone. For true this time, without even the silt of her reduced body for remains. All we had of her was the collar… and the tremendous gift she’d given all the genets. Perhaps that’s why Kelu offered the former to me.

“You should have it,” he said, voice quivering as I took it. “Since we’ll have… everything… everything… else….”

I drew him into my arms as he sobbed, and hid my own tears in his hair. They were quieter than his, though; I had already done my mourning twice. I had room now only for awe, and for joy, and this he saw in my face when he sat back and rubbed his face.

“Crying makes my nose stop up.”

“It’s rather longer than mine,” I said. “I can’t imagine it’s comfortable.”

Kelu eyed me. “You’re going to be insufferable again, aren’t you.”

“I already am, I think.” I set the collar on the altar. “Especially since I have been waiting for this moment for months now.” Taking a deep breath, I held my hands out and said, “SO! Kelu! Do you have a plan?”

Kelu folded his arms and glowered. The corner of his muzzle twitched and then he barked a laugh. “You really have been waiting months to say that, haven’t you.”

“I had no idea until this moment that this was the case,” I said, somber. “But as it turns out… yes. Yes, I have.”

He laughed, rubbed his arms, watched the fur fluff up on them. “I guess my plan is ‘go back, wake up Emily, and have a long talk with her.’”

“A good beginning,” I opined. “If rather strong on improvisation and short on measurable goals. Yes, please, scowl. It’s more in keeping with your character.” I waited until he was grinning before I finished, “Are you sure? About not being king.”

“Completely,” Kelu replied. “I don’t want the job. Emily’s the one who likes to make plans and do things. I was always just… just trying to get by without getting hurt. And now this happens….” He rubbed his eyes. “I just… I can’t. I don’t know how to react to any of it. Except maybe to think I need pants.”

“You look fine.”

“I look fine by my standards. I suspect by human standards I’ve suddenly become indecent. Besides, dressing in clothes will help you people start thinking of us as another race and not as animals you can keep as pets.”

I chuckled. He really had no idea what he was bound for, with such a mind. I wondered how long it would be before I lost him as advisor, for Emily would need him… and found I didn’t mind.

“She was… she was extraordinary, wasn’t she?” Kelu said softly, looking at the altar.

“She was the mother of your race,” I said. “And I hope you will venerate her as such.” At Kelu’s glance, I added, “Just think. The genets have had their first visitation! The last such visitation established the human Church. Only think what you can do with this one.”

“You really are impossible.”

“And I shall continue to be for the rest of my life, which you will now live long enough to witness.” I stood and offered my hands. “In the meantime, you have work to do.”

“I can get up—” Kelu paused, then sighed and put his hand in mine. “But you can help.” Standing, he added, quiet. “Thanks. Thank you. For everything.”

We considered one another. Then I turned the collar in my hand and unhooked the tag. Handing him the leather, I said, “Keep this piece. I’ll keep the other.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, hesitant.

“I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to wear it,” I said. “But…”

“No,” Kelu said, studying it. Reaching for his neck, he paused… then in a quick motion undid the buckle and pulled off the collar. Was he expecting to vanish in a swirl of magic? Perhaps we both were waiting for it to happen… but it didn’t. The genets were their own people now, constructs no longer. I silently accepted the dark collar so Kelu could buckle the white one on that had served Almond for so long. Patting it, he said, “It’s strange to put it on myself.”

“And with no tag,” I said. “You belong to yourself now.”

Kelu’s ears sagged. “I guess this means I have to name myself, doesn’t it?”

“You did say that when I could take the collar off of you, that I could name you,” I answered, fighting a lopsided smile. “You seem to have arrogated that privilege to yourself... as usual.”

“I like doing for myself,” Kelu muttered.

“And now you can do for all the genets.” He looked up at me and I finished, “So what will you do first, Kelu First Genet?”

“Now,” Kelu said, “I go have the craziest conversation with Emily that either of us has ever had.” He grinned crookedly. “Good night, Morgan.”

“Good night, Kelu,” I said, and watched him go.

“God is good,” I whispered to the empty chapel. And then, holding the medallion in hand, I left it for my own bed, and the love waiting for me there.