Then I hear a soft sound, a pattering of paws across frozen snow.
Straightening, I turn to look toward the Mistwood.
And crossing the pristine white blanket of snow is the red fox I nursed back to health earlier this year. He’s headed right toward me, loping along at a smooth stride, no sign of the injury that once plagued him.
I take one step toward him, my hooves sinking deep into the snow, and then kneel to his level.
The fox approaches me slowly, something held in his mouth.
“What do you have there?” I ask, holding out my hand.
He drops something into my palm, and when I hold it up, I see it’s a chunk of crystal quartz. The facets reflect the light, sparkling brilliantly.
“This is a lovely gift,” I say, focusing my attention on the fox again. “Thank you, my friend.” I hold out my free hand, and the fox allows me to stroke his fur and scratch him behind one ear.
Then he pulls away, flicks his ears at me, and lopes right back into the trees, disappearing from view as quickly as he came.
“What did he give you?” Lyra asks.
I push to my hooves, then hold the quartz out for Lyra to see. Her brows shoot up, and her lips pull into a smile.
“It’s beautiful. And you know, a crystal gifted is ten times more powerful than a crystal that’s bought.”
I arch my brow. “I’ve never heard that before.”
Lyra shrugs, and Juniper digs her claws into Lyra’s cloak a bit deeper to avoid being unseated. “I’m a witch. I know these things.”
I laugh, breath steaming out around my mouth in big white-gray puffs. “I suppose I shouldn’t question you, then.”
She gives a quick shake of her head. “No, you shouldn’t.” Then the joy drifts from her eyes, and she says softly, “Will you write? Once you’re settled?”
With a nod, I reach out and squeeze her mittened hand. “Of course I will. And will you write back?”
Her lips quirk, just slightly. “If I have time.”
“Good. Keep yourself busy. Anddon’tburn Professor Fleur’s greenhouse down this semester, all right?”
Lyra groans. “Don’t remind me. I’ve still got making up to do for that.”
“Better late than never.”
“Mm.” Her eyes meet mine again, and I know this is it. We have to say goodbye.
Even if I really don’t want to.
“Ostara,” Lyra says.
“Ostara,” I repeat.
And then I kiss her one more time, trying to chisel the taste of her mouth into my memory. Stepping up into the wagon is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, and staying in the wagon while it starts to roll away, leaving Lyra standing there in the snow, makes me feel sick.
Ostara, I think.I’ll see you again soon, my little fire witch.
Chapter 48
Lyra
I HOLD MY TEARS AT bay until all that’s left of the wagon is tracks through the snow. Now Cairn’s hut is empty save for the heavy pieces of furniture he couldn’t take with him, and when I step into the sitting room and see the empty walls and bookshelves, it makes me finally break down.
