‘I’ve returned to make things right,’ Helena cooed, caressing the emperor’s cheek. ‘To make it as if my death never happened.’

  From the corner of her eye, Keira could see Miles entering the living room and coaxing the Thornfells and Meronis out of the house. As he urged them on, they scrambled to their feet, stumbling over themselves to get out. The Meronis pushed their daughter before them while the Thornfells raced in front of them all, leaving August at the rear to be helped by Miles.

  ‘It was my downfall,’ Aeros whispered, and the tone of his voice pulled Keira’s attention back to him. To where Helena kept his attention away from the people escaping behind him.

  He stood, leaning into her touch, looking nothing like the menacing, powerful man that the legends were built around. Instead, his brows were tightly knit over such forlorn eyes that Keira almost took pity on him. Almost.

  ‘Come, my love,’ Helena purred, and took his hands in Keira’s. All of Keira’s insides squirmed at the sight. ‘Let’s go home. Let’s take back what’s ours.’

  What? Keira thought. Helena, what are you doing?

  But the deity did not answer. Instead, she pulled the emperor with her, out of the manor, racing so fast that Keira could only hope that Miles had already taken August and the others far away from there. Helena, stop!

  ‘I’m sorry, little heir. I’ve waited too long to be reunited with him. Aeros is my love. I’m not letting him go now. I’m sure you understand.’

  Images of Elijah smiling back at her flashed before Keira’s eyes and her heart tugged in longing for him.

  No… Keira thought. You were sent to betray him. You were sent to take the emperor down. You fought against his tyranny and brought his demise. For peace and freedom.

  ‘Such a pretty little story, woven by petty little people. But they were wrong. About him. About us. We were meant to bring all of Equinox together again, but they got in the way. Now we shall make it right.’

  ‘No!’

  The sound escaped Keira’s lips, and her body stopped, her hand pausing at her lips.

  ‘My love?’ Aeros asked, studying her face. ‘Helena?’

  ‘She fights,’ Helena panted, taking his hand again.

  Damn right, I am, Keira growled, panic rising at the thought of being stuck in her own body. Of both her and Elijah being mere presences in bodies that once had been theirs, cursed to forever watch as Helena and the emperor went on with their lives, ruling and making love.

  Keira let out a raging scream at the thought, and Helena clamped her hands over her ears.

  ‘Helena!’ Aeros barked, grasping for Keira’s body as she sank to her knees, gritting her teeth against the sound.

  This body belongs to me, Keira snarled. You will not take it. I will never let anyone take it without my permission ever again! I will destroy you both.

  ‘You foolish girl,’ hissed Helena. ‘There is nothing that can quench the shadow of a djinn but that of the light of a saint. You are powerless against us.’ She looked up, straight into Aeros’ concerned gaze. And Keira wondered whether Elijah was in there still, looking back at her. Wondered whether she could take out the emperor without losing him in the process.

  ‘The way you feel, that is how we feel. Our time together was taken from us. Let us have it.’

  I’m sorry that they did, Keira replied in her mind. But your time is over. And I’ll not give you a single more minute of mine.

  Slowly, Keira felt tingles as her nails grew into physical claws, and she raised her hands before her face. Her facial muscles shifted and her mouth dropped open. Helena watched in stunned realisation as Keira slowly but surely took control back.

  ‘Wait! We can trade places. I can make it so that you take my place as a saint.’

  If you’re what it means to be a saint, I’d rather be a sinner, Keira thought. Then she pulled her claws upon herself, clawing the sides of her waist. Over her shoulder.

  Helena screamed, and Aeros screamed with her, shouting for her to tell him what to do. How to help.

  ‘She’s—’ Helena started, but Keira slashed herself again, and Helena screamed anew.

  Then the pressure in Keira’s body loosened. She could feel every single nerve in her body. Could wiggle every single finger and toe.

  Hunched over, her breathing hard and shallow, she could still hear the saint at the back of her mind, commanding her to let her go. Before her, Aeros pled for Helena to answer him.

  ‘She’s…managed,’ Keira breathed, taking on the cadence of the saint, then looked up beneath her lashes to meet his gaze. His forehead remained furrowed, as if he didn’t quite believe that Helena was out of danger. She needed to convince him, before he saw through her and used his powers on her.

  Keira visualized the saint. The way she had seen her in Helena’s memories. And slowly but surely, she felt her own appearance change. Her body altered, her light brown hair falling into golden locks that spilled over her shoulders.

  ‘Helena,’ the emperor breathed, lifting her chin, taking her hand as he helped her to her feet. ‘I can’t believe it is you.’

  Keira rose, forcing a lover’s smile on her lips.

  ‘It is. It is I, and this is us, my love.’ She cupped her hand against his cheek, bringing his face to hers. ‘Together again,’ she whispered, feeling Helena banging at the wall in the back of her mind as their lips met.

  There is but one thing that can quench the shadow of a djinn…the light of a saint.

  And as the heir of a saint, Keira let her light shine.

  No sooner did their mouths meet, than light began to radiate from her pores and belt out from her skin. It grew by the minute, as the emperor began to try to pull away. But Keira held him firm, until her light became so bright she could barely keep her eyes open.

  The emperor screamed, and so did Helena.

  The sound ripped through Keira’s mind until pins and needles travelled up and down her limbs. It was much the same sensation as when she was first possessed, only in reverse, the space within her body expanding, like a stone was being lifted from her chest. As if Helena was leaving it.

  The light exploded out of her, ripping the emperor’s features off the figure before her, until his dark hair turned light brown, and his shoulders slimmed. Until the eyes were warm and passionate instead of hard.

  Elijah squinted through the light and called her name as he tried to reach for her. But she could not control it, could not stop the light. It overpowered her, wafted outwards, then left her crumpled on the ground.

  ‘Keira! Keira!’ called a voice. Numb and disoriented, Keira looked up as Miles came running to her side, lifting her by the shoulders. ‘Keira, are you alright?’ But she could not answer, for a chasm was already splitting her chest open as it dawned upon her what her eyes could not see.

  The spot where the emperor had been stood empty, and she felt her body – felt the hollowness now present in Helena’s absence – and she knew they were both gone… And so was Elijah.

  26

  AFTERMATH

  Mr Burton picked up a piece of rubble and tossed it aside, his eyes squinting as he caught sight of the Thornfells, the Meronis, Miles, and Keira coming down the hill.

  The villagers cried out and ran to the two families for comfort as they lamented and pointed to the wounded and dead. No one paid Miles or Keira any attention as they stood to the side, solemnly taking in the state of E’Frion.

  According to the villagers, the djinns had caught sight of the light coming from Thornfell and simply rushed off, leaving destruction in their wake. Some villagers discussed whether or not they should chase after them, but Keira could not master the energy to care. Instead, she caught sight of the witches standing with the Nightladies and excused herself to Miles, heading to meet them.

  ‘Keira!’ Echo said and embraced her, taking in the state of her. ‘Are you alright?’

  ‘I’ll be okay,’ Keira mumbled, waving off her concern.

  Echo frowned. ‘Isolde? Makenna? Do you know where they are?’

  ‘They…they were back at the palace when I…left.’ With Helena sharing her body.

  Keira’s eyes fell back towards Thornfell hill, still expecting to see Elijah stroll down it, as if her mind refused to believe that he was gone. Gone to the Realm of the Dead or wherever the light of the saint had cast him to.

  Would he have been there still if they had come up with another plan? If she had not so blindly trusted Helena, or if they had never let Helena and the emperor take their bodies? With every thought she could feel something inside her crack and shatter further, but there was no time to fall apart as Lord Thornfell’s voice carried towards them, calling everyone’s attention to him.

  ‘People of E’Frion!’ Lord Thornfell started, making Keira and Echo exchange glances but move closer, nevertheless. ‘It is terrible what happened here, but we will rebuild and come together. We will return to life as we know it, unaltered. The people of E’Frion are resilient. We will recover. What we should not do, however, is forget. Let this be a reminder of the dangers of magic, and that magic does not have a place in a society such as ours. We have become too relaxed, too frivolous. We must tighten our customs and straighten our children, so that we do not invite it in.’

  Keira blinked. Was he really taking this approach, knowing what blood ran through the veins of his son and wife? She exchanged a glance with Miles as loud murmurs of agreement rose amongst the villagers, and she felt the witches and Nightladies stiffen next to her.

  ‘How did the djinns return in the first place?’ called a villager.

  ‘What brought them here?’ called another.

  ‘She did,’ August said, pointing directly at Keira.

  The crowd gasped and turned in her direction, eyes wide and angry at her.

  Only Miles did not turn, his gaze unbelieving and his mouth open as he stared at August. Tentatively, he tried to pull at August’s sleeve, whispering fervently in his ear. But August merely shook his head, lips pressed thin, his gaze hard and unforgiving on Keira.

  And she realised that this had nothing to do with the siege of the Cardinal Seven.

  This was all because of August’s ego, and a bruised one at that.

  Keira merely raised her chin as the heckling rose, calling for her to get out of town.

  Carefully, Echo pulled at her elbow, and she left with the witches to the chorus of villagers cussing them out and away. Even after all the witches had done for them against the court of vices, they still didn’t treat them better.

  ‘You can come and live with us,’ Echo murmured as they paused by her cottage, and Keira felt grateful that she did not throw an “I told you so” in her face for good measure. ‘Isolde will probably insist on it.’

  But Keira shook her head. ‘No. This is my home. I’ve nowhere else to go.’ And it was the first place Elijah would know to find her if he ever came back… ‘Besides, their anger will recede. Eventually.’ She met Echo’s gaze, expecting to find pity in it. But it wasn’t there.

  ‘If you ever need us,’ Echo said instead, ‘you know where to find us.’

  Keira watched them leave, holding at bay the emotions threatening to brim to the surface. It would be fine, she told herself. It would be fine.

  Then she locked herself into the empty space of her cottage, cast one look at Elijah’s empty mattress as the door closed heavily behind her – and slid down to the floor, crying.

  27

  REGRET

  ‘Get out of the village, demon-lover; no one wants you here!’

  ‘Yeah, move in with the witches!’

  The heckling faded as Keira walked away, arms crossed tightly against her chest, trying not to listen while the wind ruffled her hair.

  ‘Don’t worry, hon, when they’re away from their wives they all sound different,’ a Nightlady crooned, giving her a wink. ‘In fact, they’ll probably pay good money just to have you.’

  Keira huffed a joyless chuckle, her mouth attempting and failing at quirking at the corner before she kept on walking.

  It’d been a couple weeks since the emperor attempted to lay siege to the village, but the people of E’Frion had not forgotten – would not forget – still living in fear that the vices would return. But she did not care. None of it mattered, but for the fact that Elijah was gone.

  He was everywhere, yet nowhere at the same time. By the peach stand, inside the ice cream parlour, strolling down the street, and, most frequently of all, by the fireplace. She never slept in her bed anymore; instead she spent her nights upon his mattress, absorbing his scent, staring at the flames flickering until she fell asleep, waking to ashes stretching like scars in the hearth. If she were to take the ash and paint her own scars, she would be covered.

  Everywhere ached. Everywhere felt like she’d been cut through a hundred times over, even though her self-inflicted wounds from taking on Helena had healed. Although she knew how to change her skin now, she had kept them – changing the scars to match the floral ones from Faerie – like tiger stripes along her body. Occasionally she spent her nights imagining how Elijah would worship each and every one of them, her fingertips brushing against dried up rose petals on the floor.

  She’d found her living room and bedroom covered in them and extinguished candles when she returned after that fateful day, the meaning of it leaving her in a state of utter despondency not even the Thornfells threats of shipping her off could shake her out of.

  Keira rarely left her cottage if she could help it.

  Most days were spent curled up in her chair, gazing out of her window, watching the villagers pass by. They’d pause to whisper and point before they hurried along, realising that she could see them.

  The rainy days were her favourites. No one was around – not even Miles or Isolde, who had taken to checking up on her now and then – and the weather fitted her mood perfectly. She’d open the windows wide to stand in the spray, filling the whole cottage with the scent of Elijah. When the rain died down and a wind wafted by with the scent of petrichor, she inhaled deeply and closed her eyes, almost able to picture his breath on her skin, his lips drifting over the edge of her jaw and pausing at the beginning of her ear.

  Then he was gone as quickly as he had come. And all she could think about was that it was her fault. That she had not appreciated him when he was there.

  She sighed and let her eyes wander across the room, picturing him in every chair, standing by the mantelpiece, or winking at her from the kitchen.

  She had wished to be mistress of a manor, and now she would have given anything to merely have her cottage and him. To spend every waking moment of the rest of her life secluded within these walls, embraced by his arms. To spend every sleeping moment before the hearth, the two of them sharing his mattress. To once again wake anew every morning to the feeling of him inside her – pounding, worshipping, devouring. Their limbs entwined with one another. She truly believed she could spend the rest of her life wrapped in him and still be as thirsty for more. Starving for his touch. His love.

  She glanced up at the bookshelves, visualising the moment they came together in the palace library.

  At first the memory would fill her with regret.

  So deep, so overwhelming, that she thought she might drown in it.

  She would wake, bathed in sweat, dreaming about the moment Elijah had let the emperor shift into his body and the things she had left unsaid.

  That she loved him.

  That she did not hate him for taking her body.

  That she had wanted it, wanted him, for all their days to come.

  Things she had been too proud, too wounded to say.

  Eventually, her heart pieced her conscience together, soothing it with gentle words and silver linings. She had given her body to him out of spite, yes, but at least she would always have that. At least she had the knowledge of what it would mean to be with him.

  It did not help the gaping hole in her chest threatening to swallow her whole, though.

  She would do anything to have him back. If only she had another wish to make.

  But she had wasted it. Oh, if she could go back to that day, she would have wished they’d never left the library.

  She had tried to wish on multiple occasions as well. Sometimes sober, and sometimes drunk, staggering into the cottage after being chased out of the tavern.

  She would take the lamp from the mantelpiece and rub its base, wishing – wishing with everything she had – that Elijah would rise from it again.

  He never did.

  Then one day, she screamed in blind rage and chucked it on the floor, shattering the glass. She stared at it, tears still streaming, and blinked until what she had done dawned upon her. She sank down to her knees and picked up the shards in her skirt.

  She left the cottage and rushed through the woods towards the Woodland Witches’ lair.

  Her fists hammered on Isolde’s door until it budged, Isolde’s expression bewildered as she opened the door. ‘Keira! What on earth is⁠—’

  ‘I broke it,’ Keira sobbed, stumbling inside. ‘I broke it, and you have to fix it. You have to fix it, or else he can’t come back!’

  Slowly, Isolde glanced down at the shattered pieces of the broken lamp and Keira’s trembling hands.

  ‘Why don’t you come in for a moment?’ she murmured, guiding Keira further inside, beckoning her to take a seat on her divan.

  Makenna and Echo both appeared in the doorway of her bedroom, exchanging glances with their auburn-headed partner.

  ‘Wine?’ Makenna asked, but Isolde shook her head.

  ‘Something stronger, I think.’ She hunched down before Keira’s shivering figure and took her hands in hers.

  ‘Keira? I want you to listen to me,’ she said. ‘Elijah won’t be able to return with the help of the lamp.’

  ‘But he told me a master’s wish is stronger than any magic. We just have to find him a new master. Someone who won’t take advantage of him. Someone—’ Keira paused as Isolde shook her head.