Page 35 of A Witch’s Guide to Love and Poison

EPILOGUE

I t was Luna’s birthday, which meant it was time for goodbye.

But before the goodbye came years of love and happiness and, yes, magic, too. About a month after the fires, Bisma felt that familiar pull inside her, and when she went to her garden and stuck her hands into the soil, a little plant sprouted.

It had taken about a month for the Enchanted Forest to recover the trees it had lost, but once it did, it gave Bisma back her magic. She ran to find Xander and found that he had his magic back as well, along with a small mark on his wrist, black ink in the shape of a vine. Bisma had the same mark beside the tattoo that marked her as an Unwanted Girl.

Her magic felt different, she realized; it felt as if she carried a piece of the Enchanted Forest with her wherever she went. She was stronger, more energized. Xander felt the same, and he could freely visit the Forest whenever he wished.

They were permanently tied to the Enchanted Forest.

Theoretically it meant Bisma could be Baji forever—she never had to leave—but that wasn’t what she wanted. Frederick still needed to pay for what he had done, and she wanted to study in Whitebridge. She wanted to see the world, to learn, to grow. All with Xander by her side: teasing, exploring, kissing, talking, laughing, kissing again.

But that would come later. She particularly enjoyed being Baji when, four months later, they were blessed with a new sister. She was a darling six-month-old with curly hair and dark skin.

‘Great!’ Azalea exclaimed upon seeing her. ‘More diapers!’

But even she could not mask her excitement.

The baby arrived with a note detailing her past: her mother had died in childbirth and her father was terminally ill, expecting to pass any day. He could not take care of Halle and hoped the Unwanted Girls could. Despite their reputation, he had seen the way the sisters always cared for each other and loved one another. That was all he wanted for his little girl: for her to have a home.

While many in the village would always ostracize the Unwanted Girls, and the girls would never truly belong there, it was alright, for they belonged in the Enchanted Forest, and they belonged with each other. And they had some friends, which was proved by the people who had showed up for them when it mattered, and that was enough.

Moreover, Bisma had Xander. They could not see each other all the time, for she had her business and he had his—so it was a good thing they were already practiced in sending each other letters.

They went on early-morning walks and afternoon picnics and had evening chai and late-night swims in the lake. They had family dinners with his parents—who were truly lovely—and family dinners with her sisters—who were constantly fighting for his attention.

And the years passed so quickly she did not realize.

Suddenly it was Luna’s eighteenth birthday, and it was time for Bisma to leave.

It was one last perfect day, and like all things, it had to end. Bisma hugged her sisters goodbye, looking up at the treehouse one final time. She would miss those weathered wood floors; the view from her room; the winding staircase; the scent of dried lavender; the dining table with its painted chairs; the mismatched teacups; the flowers; the stray socks—she would miss all of it. But she had to go.

Luna walked Bisma to the edge of the Enchanted Forest, both with tears in their eyes.

‘You can do this. I know you can,’ Bisma told Luna, giving her sister a smile. ‘You’re going to be great, Lu.’

‘I’m going to miss you,’ Luna said, cheeks shining in the moonlight with tears.

‘I’m going to miss you, too,’ Bisma said, pulling her into her arms. ‘Desperately.’ They held onto one another tight. ‘But we’ll see each other again.’

‘What?’ Luna asked, eyes wide. ‘How?’

Bisma wasn’t quite sure how, but those were the words spoken to her by her baji, and she was saying them to Luna now.

‘Trust me,’ she said, kissing Luna’s cheek.

‘I do,’ Luna said.

‘Goodbye,’ Bisma whispered into Luna’s hair.

Then she stepped into the fog bordering the Enchanted Forest. Bisma looked down at her wrist, at the mark that branded her as an Unwanted Girl. It was gone, now, but the black vine remained.

Bisma would forever be tethered to the Enchanted Forest, which meant she did not have to leave, but she wished to. She understood why the Forest had its rules, why it forced the baji to leave when the next girl came of age. It wasn’t a punishment—it was freedom.

The fog cleared, and on the other side, Xander was waiting for her. He flashed her a dazzling smile, his green eyes brilliant and bright.

‘Ready?’ he asked, holding out his hand.

‘Ready,’ she said, and together they walked toward a new adventure.