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Terlu hadn’t considered the fact that Marin might have known Rijes, but of course she had to, if she was the one who’d brought the statue of Terlu to safety.

None of this was a miracle or a coincidence—the two of them already had a connection.

Still, it felt like a miracle. “I thought I was asking for the impossible. But here you are. I don’t know how to say thank you. I… Thank you.”

“You look well,” Rijes said.

Rijes looked… very different. At the trial, the head librarian had been encased in robes made of embroidered silk.

Her hair had been braided in a pattern that echoed the latticework on the great door to Kinney Hall, and her face had been painted with symbols that affirmed her oath to honor the history, wisdom, and knowledge of the Crescent Islands.

Now, she was in a simple tunic, her onyx face was undecorated and wrinkled, her blue-black eyes red-rimmed and tired, and her thin gray hair unbound.

She looked like the older woman that she was at the end of a long voyage and not like the embodiment of her office.

“So do you,” Terlu said. “You look wonderful.”

Her lips curved into a smile. “You always were more kindhearted than the world would allow. I was very pleased to hear that you are thriving here.”

Belatedly, she realized they were all still standing on the dock in the chill of the sea breeze. “Come inside,” Terlu said. “You must be hungry and tired.”

Marin piped up. “I am.”

“I’m fine,” Ree said.

“Do you have bags? I can carry them.” She thought ahead.

“The late sorcerer’s home is unoccupied.

It used to be haunted, but the ghost moved on.

You can stay there, if you’d like, for as long as you like.

” She supposed she should consult with the other residents before welcoming any more people to Belde.

She didn’t think, though, anyone would mind, especially Yarrow.

He knew what Rijes meant to her. And no one would object to Marin and Ree either—the rescuers of the refugees.

Marin ducked into the hull of her ship and emerged with two bags that she tossed onto the dock with a grunt. “I’d rather sleep on my boat, but thanks.”

“Same,” Ree said.

“How long can you stay?” Terlu asked.

“Only until the wind changes,” Marin said.

“Ahh,” Terlu said, though she wasn’t exactly sure what that meant. A calendar date would have been far more specific, but they were welcome for however long they wanted, though she hoped that Rijes would stay for longer. She picked up one of the bags and staggered. “Books?”

“A few,” Rijes admitted.

“Then definitely Laiken’s tower. It has bookshelves.

Oh, and it also has a talking rose named Lotti.

She’s in the greenhouse right now, but she lives in the tower.

I’m sure she’d love the company. She’s very friendly.

” Terlu waddled with the head librarian’s bags, while Marin followed with another pack plus a box of what Terlu assumed was more books.

“I’ve been working through the sorcerer’s notebooks…

” She led them to the workshop and opened the door.

Behind her, Rijes let out a small gasp as she beheld the bookshelves—it was the sound of a woman who didn’t expect to find happiness but discovered it anyway. Terlu knew that sound well. “This is perfect,” Rijes proclaimed.

It had transformed from abandoned and disheveled to cozy and library-like.

“It’s much cleaner than it was.” She was grateful that Yarrow had scrubbed it so thoroughly.

She hadn’t expected to be showing it to the head librarian of the most magnificent library in the whole of the Crescent Islands.

Terlu lowered the bags of books while Rijes went immediately to the shelves and pulled off a volume.

Flipping through the pages, Rijes frowned at it. “Curious.”

“He used a code,” Terlu said. “I can show you the translation—”

“Yes, that would be excellent!”

Marin said plaintively, “After food?”

Terlu laughed. “Yes, after food. Why don’t you settle in, and I’ll be by with some dinner?

And the codebook. Ree, I know your friends will be happy to see you’re well.

” If Rijes were interested in the notebooks…

this could be a truly excellent development.

There was no one else on the island with her kind of expertise.

“That would be perfect,” Rijes said. As Terlu headed for the door, Rijes said, “Terlu? Sending you here… I wish I could have done more, and now I am here to impose on you.”

“It’s not an imposition,” Terlu said. “It’s an honor.” She meant every word.

“Alyssium was my home for decades. I expected to die, gladly, between the stacks of the Great Library, a servant to the knowledge and wisdom collected by an empire.” She sighed heavily. “There isn’t a place for me there anymore.”

“You have a place here,” Terlu said firmly. “For as long as you want. Forever, if you’d like.” She meant it. If she could do for Rijes what the head librarian had done for her… “This is the perfect place for new beginnings.”

Grinning, Marin elbowed Rijes. “Told you so.”

“I know,” Rijes said, “but it is a lot to ask of anyone.”

Terlu couldn’t imagine saying no, and she wasn’t going to let anyone else on the island say no either, though she doubted they would. This wasn’t just a sanctuary for plants, not anymore. “You saved my life.”

“By sending you away from everything and everyone you’d ever known,” Rijes said. “It was the best I could do, under the circumstances, but I fear I placed an unfair burden on you, without any hint of what I hoped you would achieve. Are you… Are you happy here, my dear?”

That was an easy question to answer. Terlu smiled. “Yes. I am.”

“Then I’m glad.”

“You risked so much… And you barely know me.”

“I did what I believed was right,” Rijes said. “It’s my duty—in fact, I believe it’s every person’s duty, especially those in power—to reject unjust laws. To choose kindness and empathy, whenever we can.”

“I don’t know how to even begin to thank you.”

“You already have.” She indicated the tower and, more sweepingly, the island beyond.

Smiling, Terlu left the head librarian to settle in, with Marin to help, and she headed outside to ask Yarrow if he could bake an extra loaf or two tonight.

She’s here! At best Terlu had hoped that Marin would find Rijes and thank her.

This, though… She hadn’t imagined she’d be able to offer Rijes a second chance in return.

As Terlu approached the cottages, she saw the other new arrivals with Birch and Ambrel.

She waved, and they waved back, looking happy.

The child, wearing a new hat and mittens, was skipping through the snow.

They must have been told they can stay too.

She was glad for it and also unsurprised—Yarrow’s family knew what it felt like to be refugees, forced to hope for kindness from others.

She knew they’d welcome Rijes as well. They’ll all be happy here.

The community on Belde was growing faster than she could have ever expected.

It was the seed of a village now, and that was a good thing.

This place didn’t need to be isolated to be safe—Laiken had had it all backward and mixed up.

The only way the island would survive—the only way they’d all thrive—was together.

She liked that thought very much.

Hurrying, she burst into the cottage, where Yarrow was working on his sugar glass. He looked up. She knew she was smiling so broadly that her chilled cheeks almost hurt. “So much to tell you,” Terlu said.

“There’s tea already warm,” Yarrow said.

“I love you,” she said.

Those weren’t the words she expected to come out of her mouth, but they did.

“I guessed that,” he said.

She felt as though she’d stepped into the sun. The words were out there, and they felt right. And he was still here, smiling at her, as if he felt the sun too.

“Tell me everything,” he said. “I’m listening.”

She launched into a description of the new arrivals: Marin, the refugees, and most importantly Rijes, the woman who’d saved her. “I thought she could live in Laiken’s tower?”

“She’s welcome to it,” Yarrow said. “Everyone will be glad to have it occupied by something other than memories. Do you think she can help you with his spells?”

“She seems interested,” Terlu said. “I promised to bring her the codebook.”

He studied her for a moment. “There’s more.”

She grinned. “There’s more.” Waving the letter in the air, she showed him. “My family wrote back. I’m currently imagining it says all the things I want it to say—that they forgive me, they understand me, maybe they’re proud of me?”

“You haven’t read it yet?”

“I was hoping you would.”

After shedding her coat and boots, she plopped onto the bed with the new spellbook that Marin had gifted her. Curled on the blankets, Emeral made a squawk in protest. “You can keep sleeping.”

He stretched his paws out, readjusted his wings, and closed his eyes.

“Ever heard of Caltrey?” Terlu asked Yarrow.

He shook his head. “Is it north?”

“Could be.”

“You’re sure you want me to read it? Out loud?” He untied the bow around it, and Emeral launched himself forward to pounce on the ribbon. He flew up to the rafters with his prize.

“Silently,” Terlu said. “And then tell me if it’s going to make me happy or sad.”

Yarrow skimmed through the pages. “It’s three letters. One from your mother, one from your father, and one from Cerri—that’s your sister, right?” She nodded, not trusting herself to speak, while he continued to read silently. He then smiled.

She exhaled like a bubble popping.

“They forgive you, they understand you, and they’re proud of you.” He handed her the letters. “You should read them.”

Kneeling on the bed, she took them and read.

Her mother first—she scolded her for not writing sooner, saying how worried they’d been, saying how happy they were that she was well.

Her father—he talked about the tides, how the stars had said she’d find happiness, and how they missed her.

“My father says he knew I’d land on my feet.

And my sister…” She read the letter from Cerri.

“Oh! She’s having a baby. I’m going to be an aunt. They want me to meet my new niece.”

She held the letters to her chest as if she could absorb them straight into her heart.

She’d lost six years as a statue, but she wouldn’t lose any more.

Her family still cared. They weren’t angry, and they missed her.

Maybe they didn’t fully understand, but they cared .

If they came to visit… When they came to visit, she corrected herself, she’d try to explain.

She’d left Eano to find a place where she had a purpose.

It had just taken her longer than she’d thought it would to find it. It would be all right.

I have a niece. And her father knew she’d find happiness.

She reread the letters three times while Yarrow puttered at the counter, kneading dough and then setting it to rise in a covered bowl by the hearth. When at last she’d reassured herself that it was real and her family was fine, Terlu opened her gift, the new spellbook.

She gasped.

On the title page, in curling script, were the authors: Kiela and Caz of Caltrey. Terlu felt her breath catch in her throat. She didn’t know who Kiela was, but Caz…

It could be a coincidence.

It didn’t necessarily have to be her Caz, the talking spider plant she’d created all those years ago.

It was not a common name, but it wasn’t unheard of.

Still, it could be him. How, though, could he have come to have co-written a spellbook?

And where was Caltrey? He’d been in Alyssium, the last she knew.

If it is him, he escaped the burning of the library.

She hoped with all her heart that it was him.

“Terlu?” Yarrow asked, concern in his voice.

She turned the pages. They contained spells, written phonetically, with lists of ingredients. Most were for growing plants and revitalizing trees, but the book also contained a few recipes, one for raspberry jam and another for cinnamon buns, credited to a local baker named Bryn.

But what about Caz? Was it her Caz?

Terlu flipped to the end to find a brief note about the authors: Kiela and Caz were the co-owners of a jam shop on the island of Caltrey.

Kiela was formerly a librarian at the Great Library of Alyssium, where Caz, a sentient talking spider plant, had been her librarian assistant.

She thanked her husband, Larran, as well as a list of friends. Caz thanked his partner, Meep.

Yarrow wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

She realized she was crying.

“He’s okay,” Terlu said. “I did the right thing.”