She whispers, “Yes, oh, yes. I love you. So much,” and her eyes fill with tears—happy tears, I know, because she’s smiling like a decade’s worth of birthday wishes came true at once.
And then, in the next blink of an eye, she’s gone.
Vanished.
With nothing but a sparkle of stardust left behind.
Chapter Thirty
Clara
Eighty-seven years later…
The night he came back to me, the stars wept.
With happiness.
They knew how long I’d been waiting. How hard I’d wished for him to find his way home to me. How many nights I’d lain awake in a field of sweet little Wigs, dreaming of a time when he might lie next to me again.
Nearly a hundred years and so many lovely things grown in my garden—Earwigs and Skritches and Sympathies and even a crop of fine, strong girls who I set free to blaze their own wonderous, magical paths years ago.
But they return to visit me often, my sweet beauties. No curses or threats required.
The humans have a saying—if you love something, set it free. I’ve set everything free. My girls, my plantings, even my hope. Not because I’ve given up on hoping but because hope needs wings even more than daughters and night creatures. It needs them to keep soaring through the night even when there’s no promise of morning.
By the time Declan arrives at the gate, blinking stardust from his eyes and looking confused to find himself back in the body of the boy I knew, I am empty of expectations.
But my heart…
My heart is very, very full.
“You don’t have to stay,” I whisper through the glowing bars of the garden gate.
It can feel how full I am, too, and aches to be opened wide, to welcome Declan in and keep him with us forever after.
But Declan is a boy in appearance only. In every other way, he’s an old soul—as am I. He may be ready to move on to something new, something mysterious and even closer to the stars than this garden.
“I just wanted to see you,” I continue when he remains silent. “One last time. I tried to reach you on earth, to send word or some kind of message in a dream, but—”
“Your mother’s spell.” His voice is scratchy and rough as if he hasn’t used it in a long time, though he left his mortal body only a few days ago. He clears his throat and swallows before continuing. “Da figured it out. That the proposal had triggered her curse. I was heartbroken. Broken in a lot of ways, actually,” he says, clearing his throat again. “But he eventually convinced me you’d want me to move on and be happy.”
I nod, my lips curving. “Yes, I did. And you were?”
“I was,” he says, his eyes beginning to shine. “Thank you for that. For making it so clear you wanted love for me, no matter what. Adrina was…everything. I loved her dearly. She was the best part of my life.”
My eyes fill, too, but I’m not sad. Just full. So full. “I’m glad. Perhaps you’ll see her again in…whatever’s next.”
Adrina passed on nearly a decade ago. A case of pneumonia took her quickly at the start of one unusually brutal island winter.
Declan casts a wistful glance over his shoulder but turns back to me with a shake of his head. “I don’t think so. I think those who travel that far are beyond that kind of separation.” He motions a hand between us. “Of names and bodies and all the rest. There, I’m pretty sure we’re all just…light. And peace.”
I nod. “That sounds right.”
He smiles, a little shyly. “You’re different.”
“You, too,” I say, returning his grin.
“We might not get along the way we used to,” he warns, but there’s a twinkle in his eye. “I’m a cranky old man, Clara. I don’t make my bed and can’t be bothered to trim my beard. And sometimes I’ll waste an entire day swimming naked in the surf, pretending I’ve got a seal skin.”
My smile widens. “No beds to make here, no beard unless you decide to grow one, and I think I can arrange a real seal skin and an ocean that’s always warm.” I shrug. “If you’re interested in those sorts of things.”
He peers over my shoulder with that familiar, avid curiosity flickering in his eyes. “So, you’ve grown your garden, then? I wondered. I hoped you’d be able to. As pretty as it is, I hated to think of you being trapped in such a small place.”
“I’ve got a whole world here now,” I confirm, curling my fingers around the glowing coils of the gate. “But Mother’s curse still holds. I can’t leave. If I so much as step through these gates…”
Declan drags a finger across his throat, summoning a soft laugh from mine.
“Yes,” I confirm. “That. Not so bad, I hear, but I’m not ready just yet.”