Page 215 of Mountain of Mirrors and Starlight
Everyone stared at Cerridwen.
“What now?” asked Juliana.
“I… I’m not sure,” said Cerridwen. “It was all I could think of. The Mirror is sealed, and if we unseal it again—”
“There are other ways,” Juliana said darkly, as if she wished she didn’t know. “Dark ways. Ways that my father tried to… But Dillon…”
She didn’t need to finish the sentence. Dillon wouldn’t want them to do it, and they all knew it. But to leave him in there forever, just a spark inside a husk…
“It doesn’t have to be a dark way,” said Mabel, appearing out of nowhere. She swept into the room in her cobwebby skirts, the only person inside it who wasn’t splashed with blood and sweat.
“What are you—” Juliana started. “Never mind. Tell us later. Explain now.”
“It takes life to create life,” Mabel continued. “That is why, no matter our advances, bringing a child into the world will always carry dangers for the mother—to remind us of the consequences. The price.”
“We can’t sacrifice someone to bring Dillon back,” Juliana insisted. “He’d hate it.”
“What about if the soul was willing?” Mabel asked. “Content to blend back into the vines, as he once was?”
Juliana frowned. “Content to… what are you talking about?”
“And how do you know that?” said Aislinn.
“I know everything, dear, that’s the point.” Mabel took a deep breath. “If there was such a soul, it could be done. With my magic—maybe his.” She looked at Hawthorn. “But where would we find—”
“I’ll do it,” said Cerridwen.
“Mother! No—”
“My darling girl,yes.”
Juliana’s gaze was silver. Aislinn had never known her mother back down from a fight in her life, but she could see her resolve crumbling now, her desire to have her own mother—toknowher for the first time—melting beneath her desire to hold her friend again.
And to bring him home. Since the moment they met, Aislinn had felt that need. For her mother, it must have been unbearable.
Tears streamed down Juliana’s cheeks. “He won’t thank you for this.”
Cerridwen grabbed Juliana and held her. Over her shoulder, her gaze settled on Luna. “Yes, he will.”
A gathered silence whispered through the room. Luna looked up at Cerridwen, and placed her hand to the coffin housing Dillon’s sleeping form. “He’ll be safe in there for a while?”
Cerridwen nodded. “I was there for seventy years.”
Luna bowed her head. “Let’s not do it here,” she said. “Not yet. No more death today. You deserve this victory as much as anyone else.”
Cerridwen placed a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll take him home,” she told her. “Back to Acanthia. I cannot deny that I want the chance to see it again—to see everyone. Just for a little while.”
Hawthorn nodded. “We’ll set off as soon as we’re able. But for now…” He faced the rest of the room. “Who’s in charge here?”
Owen came forward, clutching a wounded arm. “I am, in part, King Hawthorn,” he admitted. “I have told my soldiers to stand down. I will see no more bloodshed today, and make whatever recompense I can. I am sorry for the role I have played in all of this.”
Hawthorn stared him down, before marching over, seizing his arm, and healing it with his magic. “Your quarrel with me is over,” he said, “providing you have no intention to invade Faerie?”
Owen shook his head. “Your power may frighten me, but I never cared for land. It was only my wife I wanted.”
Hawthorn nodded. “Go back through the barrier,” he said. “Take all of your men with you. You shall not come into Faerie again—not by any means. I will not interfere with your politics again, although your stepson might. Speak to him, and see that you make amends with the dwarven queen before you leave.”
“I am the dwarven queen now,” said Minerva, stepping forward, “unless my nephew wishes to challenge me?”
