Deasylva turned to Isadora. She inclined her head for a long pause, then straightened.
“Isadora, you have not only protected the witches of Alkarra but proven that witches can redeem themselves—or at least work out their problems. For your toil, I grant you continued growth in the Watcher magic, which originates in me and in goodness. You will advance in ability and strength, and as I see, will find ways to use it for good. Abuse it, and you shall enjoy my wrath.”
Isadora breathed in sharply. “I would never dream of it.”
Deasylva’s lips twitched. “I trust you. Your power as a Watcher was so great because the magic responds to rising evil. You will feel a surge in your abilities again in the future, when need arises. For now, it will abate. Not all evil can be banished, and more is in store for Alkarra.”
Deasylva turned back to Sanna. “Sanna, in giving the dragons the freedom they have always deserved, you have lost everything you held dear, except for your sisterwitch.”
Sanna’s troubled gaze met Deasylva’s again. She still couldn’t reconcile the goddess with the writing that had appeared on the tree trunks.
“Luteis,” she whispered. “And Daid and Anguis.”
Deasylva’s expression softened. “Unlike Isadora, you cannot continue in your magic. In recompense, I can grant something in restitution. While I cannot remake Dragonian magic—nor would I wish to—I will restore what is most important to you.”
Sanna’s heart skipped a beat. “Luteis?”
Deasylva’s brow rose. “You do not choose your sight?”
“He will be my sight,” she said softly.
“Then you shall remain blind, and your merging with Luteis will be restored, but without the power of the Dragonian magic. You will not be able to communicate through your thoughts with any dragon but him. You will remain protected from his heat and from falling while flying.”
Sanna nodded.
Deasylva continued, “I go now to rest within my forest. I shall retire for many years according to the timing of witches, but I trust Letum Wood to your capable hands. When you go to Halla, one shall rise in your place, for my trees know those who belong to them. There is always one who responds to their cries.”
Isadora put a firm arm around Sanna.
“Thank you, Deasylva,” Sanna murmured, feeling a sense of loss and finality. There would be no interaction with the forest goddess again, and she was startled to realize she’d miss her.
Deasylva faded, her form dwindling into mist. The smell of honeysuckle and a faint breeze stirred up as she closed her eyes, and was gone.
Isadora let out a long exhale. “Well. One can’t say that we don’t keep things interesting around here.”
Sanna studied her, trying to commit this last look at her sister to memory so that she could never forget it. “When we go back, I will never see you again. I’ll never see again.”
“Not until we return to Daid in the halls of Halla,” Isadora said, gripping both of Sanna’s hands. “But I will be with you forever.”
Sanna wrapped Isadora in her arms.
“Forever.”
* * *
Sanna returned to darkness.
She stood there for a second, disoriented. Then she drew in a breath. Mentally settled in. Her sight was gone—she’d see no more. But she’d be fine. Isadora still held her hand. Luteis would be with her. The forest dragons still lived, and so would Letum Wood after proper care and attention.
Someone had to take care of all that strickenine moss and the trees that fell to Prana’s salt water.
A rustle of leaves accompanied a breathless voice in her head. Sanna turned.
Little one, Luteis whispered, voice stark, have you returned to me?
With a cry, Sanna flung herself at his heat, her arms enveloping his snout. His heat didn’t scorch her, settling to its usual pleasant warmth. The emptiness that had been haunting her faded as he joined in with her thoughts, where they both belonged. Tears tracked down her cheeks.
“Luteis,” she whispered. “I’m so relieved you’re back.”
His tail wrapped around her ankle.
Deasylva tells me of your sacrifice. My love and relief is great. Only death shall part us now.
She stood there, touching him, until the ache in her chest began to fade. She pressed her forehead to his.
Let’s go home again, she said, and this time, let’s stay. For decades. Maybe forever. Long ago, Isadora promised to teach me some spells that have practical purposes.
Sounds like a worthy investment of time.
She grinned. “Maybe magic isn’t so bad. Besides, we have our work cut out for us in Letum Wood.”
I am inclined to agree.
“You’re already mapping out a plan for cleaning up the fallen trees and strickenine moss, aren’t you?” she asked, thinking about the complicated canopy that awaited them.
Patches of strickenine moss would still be everywhere. Fallen trees cluttered the forest floor that would need to be cleaned up. It was difficult to navigate some areas, and many trees weren’t handling the close space well. They needed to be thinned out.
His wing twitched next to her.
False. I already have a plan and am looking forward to implementing it. The forest desperately needs us. We may have defeated our enemies, but we are not yet completely healed. It’s time for us to focus on Letum Wood and allow Deasylva to rest. The mountain dragons ate enough of the beluas that we need not fear their numbers anymore, but it will take time for the forest to regrow.
It had all been so surreal. She still questioned whether she’d really lived through so much.
“Perhaps,” she said. “But at least we have each other for the rest of our lives now.”
That, he murmured, is my ultimate plan.