Page 49 of Chapel at Ender’s Ridge (Ender’s Calling #1)

Willa slipped a brand new pistol from the holster at her side, falling into step as she spun the shined cylinder and said she’d already gotten to test it on the way back. Decker didn’t ask.

The chapel stretched above them like a path to heaven. The round, stained glass window arrived a week ago, along with the marble headstone for Cricket. They took it to Amaretto and shared a drink over the long-settled soil of their friend’s grave.

Once they fastened the last window in place, the white dove with an olive branch serenely guarded the chapel as the three worked tirelessly through the snow and into the mud of spring.

Sister Inez met them at the doors, and Willa and Decker fell silent.

I hope, for everyone, you’ve found something that works, Safine.

Her family roots ran deep in the craft, but Ender’s Blessing ran even more deeply. With a bit of Ender’s own magic, maybe it would be enough.

Safine’s face was stone, immovable as she slipped a fine gold necklace from her pocket and clasped it around Sister’s neck. The tiny amorite teardrop fell next to her cross, black and blood-webbed, glowing in the dim light from the chapel.

“I hope this shit works,” Safine whispered, teeth scraping off every layer of red on her lips.

Lined forehead pinched, then smoothed, and Sister Inez dragged in a deep, startled breath, her hand going to the pendant.

“Do you remember?” Safine clasped her arm, pressing a kiss to the scars. “You need to remember me, all of me, or I’ll—”

Like a flash of sunlight behind clouds, recognition dawned and Sister Inez kissed her desperately, elbow crooking around Safine, hands laced together .

Safine didn’t even seem to mind when her pins loosened and her hair sprang loose.

Decker grinned when Sister Inez finally pulled away, mouth stained red. Lip rouge didn’t help her stern demeanor, but it melted away when Willa tilted her chin up, pressing a long-overdue kiss to her lips.

Laurie bumped shoulders with Decker, angling his head at the chapel. “Whenever you’re ready,” he said. His relieved smile grew when Sister Inez gave them a knowing look and swept ahead of them, welcoming them to the chapel.

Lamps blazed at each polished pew and the chapel glowed with fresh pine boards.

Brilliant colors unfurled on the walls—tapestry-woven sarapes brought with the Castillo family, richly embroidered silk qipao from Lee’s hometown, pleated tartans belonging to the McKinneys.

Carefully painted buffalo hide from Three Hawks and prayer mats from a passing man who remembered the warmth of India softened the once-harsh chapel until it was a sanctuary.

Carved symbols of protection edged the doorways, waiting expectantly for Safine’s finishing touch.

Blood would never again be shed inside the doors of the chapel at Ender’s Ridge.

It would be a place of peace, and hope. Remembrance, for the survivors.

Candles flickered in their stands, one lit for each friend they’d lost. There were too many, but because of them, Ender’s Ridge was a bustling town again and more arrived daily seeking a safe haven.

“You finished.” Safine’s gaze flickered across the interior before they rested on Decker. “It’s beautiful. ”

“It was remade. Sometimes that makes things more beautiful,” he murmured.

“Time hasn’t ruined your sentimental ass.” She rolled her eyes and followed Sister Inez, who laced her hands with the others.

Laurie cleared his throat, careful steps leading him down the aisle. He took his place behind the pulpit, the white, lightning-struck tree curving under his hands.

The pew creaked as Decker settled next to Safine, and she flashed a smile at him and leaned her shoulder against his.

Laurie brushed away sawdust and folded his hand around his wooden rosary.

“It’s rather late for a sermon, but I wanted you all to be the first in the new chapel.

Ender’s Ridge is my home, and you all have been enlightening.

” Laurie lingered on the last word and his eyes, honey brown in the lamplight, caught Decker’s. “I vow to serve you the best I can.”

“Bet you’ll serve Decker real good.” Safine snorted as Decker shot a disapproving look.

Laurie forged ahead. “This chapel is a sanctuary for all of us. This town, our home.” Laurie’s gaze didn’t waver from him, his voice only lowering, as if it was meant just for him. “This man, my salvation.”

Safine coughed, breaking the quiet. “He’s married.”

“Safi.”

“You are,” she laughed, ducking away from Sister Inez’s halfhearted swat at her.

“I’m here for a goddamn sermon, not a love confession we already knew,” Willa said.

“He has been planning this for months, be quiet,” Sister Inez hissed .

“You all are a terrible first congregation,” Laurie sighed, throwing his hands up even as a smile played on his mouth. “The Goose is still open, I hear they make perfect hot cider.”

Safine hiked her skirts to slide over the edge of the pew and join Laurie in the aisle. “Did you take that over for me while I was gone?”

“Regrettably, the patrons said it wasn’t the same as when you made it.”

“Have to add the powdered toe bones.”

“Safine, you can’t be serious—”

The quartet bickered amongst themselves as they filed out, and still Decker stayed.

On the right wall, an open space gaped with bare pine boards. When they returned from the Dolomites, maybe from India, they would bring rich fabric, spun through with red and gold.

His origin, the final piece of their sanctuary.

Laurie paused at the door. “Are you going to join us, Dev?”

A year ago, Decker would have said he was happy. A life he was fine with, and people he loved, and stability. Here, in the place where he and Laurie were reborn, Decker was finally ready to live.

“I want nothing more,” Decker said. He met him at the doors and cast one last look behind him.

Ender’s Ridge wouldn’t last forever. The people they knew, the people they loved, would pass. One by one, content and old and grey. And they would still be there.

Living sanctuaries, beacons of hope. Covenants of acceptance, no matter the cost.

Mortality bowed to them.

Forever cradled them in her palm, whispering you are home.