Page 27

"I know." Luc smiled, sidling up to me, carrying a heavy box. "I'm right behind you. You don't have to yell."

"Who said she was talking to you?" Polly walked across the foyer towards us.

She stepped forward and hugged me like I was a beloved family member she hadn't seen in years. I had never quite realized what a toll this ordeal had had on us until I saw Polly back at home. When we had been living at Luc's apartment, her face had hollowed, her hair had fallen limp, and she'd lost weight—and not in a good way. But now Polly was back to being fresh and full of life; her soft pink skin glowed under the evening sun that streamed in through the door, and her fiery red hair was lush and bouncy again.

I, too, had bounced back. Though I had lost most of my hair—burnt off in the battle with Lillian—I felt more confident than ever; after all, what could scare me after I had faced something out of a nightmare? Even without a single thing in my possession, I felt complete. I felt safe.

Luc looked good, too.

He was more beautiful than the day I met him, which I hadn't thought was possible. The stress lines had mostly faded from his face, and there was a calmness there that could only be achieved by the literal lifting of a deadly curse. He walked passed us and dropped the box on the floor with a heavy thunk. He inhaled and looked over the layout of the house, pausing on certain things. It was spotless. There was no trace of the table or the puddles of our blood. It seemed like a completely different place, but he had to remember it from when he had been with Lillian. I wondered how he felt to be living here now. I could still tell there was a sense of discomfort that pervaded, though I was sure it'd fade in time.

There was nothing to be afraid of, not anymore.

"Where should I put these books?" Luc asked, finally, tapping the side of the box with his foot.

They were the books he had salvaged from what was left of our old apartment building.

He had made a stop there after he had picked me up from the hospital.

I had watched as he rifled through the debris and unearthed book after book.

They all shared the same characteristics: heavy looking, carefully bound by hand in leather or worn cloth, and inscribed with writing I couldn't read. Important spell books, they were the only thing to survive the fire. I supposed that they, too—like the book of protective spells we'd used to finally seal Lillian away—had been protected with a spell to make them impervious to damage.

"Upstairs," Polly said, nodding towards the stairs that stood opposite from the door. "In my room."

"Your room?" I asked. "Then where are you staying?"

"I'm not," she replied quietly.

My mouth fell open in surprise, and Luc stopped mid-bend from picking up the box. "You're not?" I echoed.

Polly shook her head.

"Where are you going?" I demanded, my voice dipping into a bit of a whine.

She sighed, and her face scrunched up, like it hurt her to continue.

"I realize now that I never really knew my sister. Magic," she winced as she said the word, "played a large part in her life, and yet... I had no idea. There's a whole part of her I knew nothing about. So I'm going to find out. I'm going to trace my sister's past and find out exactly what happened to her. I need to know."

She averted her gaze, like she didn't want to watch as I took in that information; the pain must've been plain on my face.

A protest rose in my throat, but I held it back.

Though I had been looking forward to spending some time with her, when our lives weren't constantly being threatened, I understood this was something she needed to do.

Polly's face reflected my own, like she was struggling with her own decision. "I don't want to leave you like this, especially after all we've been through..."

"It's okay, Polly," I said. "You can go. You should go."

"Be careful," Polly replied, bringing her eyes back to meet mine. "I'm leaving the house in your care. It's yours as long as I am away,"

My eyes widened. "You're giving me your house?"

"For as long as I am away," Polly repeated. "And as such..." She reached around the back of her neck, and I heard the tinkling of the tiny metal clasp. The golden chain that always hung around her neck, the one attached to the key, came free, and she held it out to me.

"Polly... I can't. It keeps you protected—"

"It comes with the house. It's the skeleton key for this whole place. You need it. And as long as this house is in your care, so is this." She reached forward and fastened it around my neck. I tried to wriggle away, but it was useless. You couldn't resist Polly.

The chain felt special as it hung gently around my own neck. I held the ornate gold key in the palm of my hand, admiring it. It was even more detailed close up. It was engraved with swirls and designs, the handle curling like a flower. It was beautiful.

"Thank you," I mumbled, feeling the sting of tears in my eyes. After all we had been through, it would be hard for me to let her walk away... Her search certainly wouldn't be a short one.

A strong arm wrapped around my shoulders, and a familiar scent came close; Luc had put his arm around me.

"That's special," Luc whispered in my ear. "Keep it safe,"

"Keep her safe," Polly said to Luc.

"Of course."

"Good."

There was a heavy silence as we stood there, surrounded by what had been decided. I nuzzled into Luc's chest for comfort, and Polly looked away, her eyes shining, trying not to cry.

"I should be going now," Polly said quietly.

"You're leaving today?" I cried, bouncing back from my sullen mood. Knowing she would be leaving was one thing; leaving now, without any time together? That wasn't fair!

"Why not now?" she asked. "What's the use of waiting?"

I didn't have an answer for that. Polly lingered for a moment and then rushed forward, wrapping her arms around both Luc and me. As she hugged us, and as her cheek pressed against mine, I felt the distinct sensation of tears splashing out. Then she pulled away suddenly and headed for the door.

"Wait!" Luc called after her.

Polly stopped, then turned back at us. Though her eyes were still wet, her brow was now folded in confusion.

"What?" she asked.

"I have something for you, something that may help," he said, drawing away from me to reach down for the box of books. Polly and I watched as he began digging through the contents. After a few moments, he reemerged with a wad of charred cloth that smelled strongly of smoke.

Polly and I exchanged a hesitant look, but as he pulled back the fabric and revealed two red books, I realized what the lump was... or what it had been. That scrap was all that was left of my bag, and the books inside—slightly singed but otherwise okay—were Lillian's diaries.

"Where did you find these?" Polly gasped, snatching them out of his hand. "I've looked everywhere for them!"

"While I was at the old apartment, picking up books, I spotted them in the rubble," he said, simply.

"The rubble?" she repeated, her brow knotting up again. "How'd they get there? The last place I saw them was in Lillian's old room."

They just looked at each other for a second, before turning to me.

My face reddened, immediately giving me away. "I'm s-sorry," I stuttered. "I took them when we found Luc's hair, in case they might be useful."

Polly raised an eyebrow. "I don't remember you saying anything about that..."

"That's because I didn't," I mumbled, looking at my feet. "I thought you might get mad." Then I braced myself, still unsure she wouldn't.

Thankfully, she just laughed. "Don't worry about it!" Polly said with a wave of her hand. "I understand. It was a good idea, actually, just bad luck you had them with you when we got attacked."

Relief washed over me. "Yeah..." I said with a sigh. "I'm glad they survived though."

"Me too." Polly looked back at the diaries in her hand, running her hand over the covers, before tucking them under her arm. "Thank you, Luc, for finding them."

"It was nothing... Just pure luck," he replied, with a humble shrug.

"All the same," she said, her voice slightly quivering. "It's nice to have some good luck for a change."

And then she walked into the last light of the day and was gone.