Charlotte sat in Yulia's tiny kitchen with the heat from the hearth at her back. A cup of tea sat on the table beside her as she fiddled with the wraithstone. Yulia had refused to take it back.

"You put it to better use than I do," she had said.

Charlotte set the wraithstone beside her forgotten cup of tea and propped her chin on her hand as she looked out the window.

She had been too weak to travel after defeating The Endless One. Yulia had insisted that Charlotte stayed with her until she was well enough to move on her own.

What should have been a visit that lasted no more than three days had turned into two months. Charlotte had long ago recovered her strength but she had lingered, concerned for the damage wrought upon Šuná, especially to Zevvi. She hated the thought of leaving without knowing he was all right.

The soft whisper of a footstep made Charlotte turn. Alexander placed a hand on her shoulder as he sat in the chair beside her. Whether was for support or reassurance, she couldn't tell. Most days, he was still shaky. But at least he was on his feet, a miracle unto itself.

When he leaned over to kiss her cheek, the collar of his shirt gaped open, revealing a glimpse of the webbed scars that crept along his chest and towards his throat.

Charlotte placed her hand over his heart—a habit she had developed after countless hours spent at his bedside, willing him to heal faster.

Alexander covered her hand with his.

"I think I'm well enough to travel now," he said. "Yulia worked wonders with that tea, even if it did taste foul."

"Maybe in another week," Charlotte replied, brushing a lock of hair away from his forehead. "You still look too pale."

"I always do."

She smiled and rested her head on his shoulder. Alexander toyed with a lock of her hair, curling it around his finger like a thread of magic.

"Mother is getting more anxious by the day," he said. "She's relieved that the curse is broken but she still doesn't believe it."

"She won't. Not until she sees you in person."

"And I'd like to make sure William is all right after...the last time he saw me."

He paused and his hand went still against Charlotte's back.

"Do you think things have settled?" he said.

She nodded. "Šuná has been through a horrifying ordeal and yet...they seem to be managing. I'm not needed here any longer."

Through the window, Zevvi, Yulia, and Jonathan were pelting each other with snowballs. Zevvi slipped and toppled into a snow drift, his laughter echoing through the trees.

Alexander sighed. "I was wondering...could I make reparations for what my ancestors did all those years ago?"

"When we leave, I'll put wards up. I have a little magic left. It's not much but I feel it getting stronger every day. I can spare a portion of it after we're far away from here. No one will come near the village unless the people choose to reveal themselves."

"That's all well and good, and I appreciate the effort. But I'd like to do something personally. I'm just...not sure if my help would be accepted after what my family has done in the past."

Charlotte nodded and squeezed his hand. "Perhaps a load of timber for repairs. The trees were damaged and many of the cottages were affected by The Endless One. New homes will need to be rebuilt."

The tension left Alexander's shoulder as he relaxed into his chair. He was so earnest in his dealings with the people of Šuná, eager to make amends for the damage his ancestors had caused—another sign that her Alexander had returned. No curse would ever be bothered with recompense and apologies.

"Speaking of repairs, that reminds me," he said.

Alexander slid a small folded piece of parchment across the table. Charlotte cast a wary look at him and unfolded it.

Scrawled across the paper in bold, black ink were carefully crafted lines, forming...

"A house?" she said.

"It won't be anything like Laeves Keep. But it would be ours, with extra room for Jonathan, if he wished to stay with us. It's only the bare bones now. I knew I needed to consult you on the design, especially the library, since that's where you'll likely be spending most of your time."

Charlotte traced the lines with one fingertip. She would always miss Laeves Keep but now that she was the mother of all witches, she would need a place to provide sanctuary, should any witches come to her for help.

"It's perfect," she said.

"It's not finished."

"Then it will be perfect."

She hesitated. Alexander tilted his head.

"What is it?" he said. "Some flaw I've overlooked?"

"No, no, goodness, no. It's not that. It's just that...I have sister witches. Somewhere in the world out there. I'd like to meet them."

"Then you should travel. The house can wait."

"I do love it though. And I want the biggest library we can manage."

Alexander laughed, and oh, that sound, she would never get tired of hearing it.

"I'll worry about the construction," he said. "While you devote attention to your sister witches."

Alexander absently skimmed the back of his knuckles across her cheek. He searched her face for so long, just staring at her in silence, that she felt a flush of heat steal up her neck.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Charlotte said with a laugh.

"Your eyes..." he said. "There's something different about them. I can't put my finger on it."

Charlotte ducked her head. She knew what had changed. The spirits of her ancestors were gone, as well as Mina, the mother of all witches. Their magic had been passed on to her, and with it came their characteristics—Mina's vision, Nivian's wisdom, among other details she had yet to discern for herself.

Charlotte toyed with the button on Alexander's shirt.

"I haven't told you everything," she said. "About my history. The witches."

"You mean Mina."

Charlotte raised her eyebrows. Alexander smiled and pressed a kiss to her temple.

"I was trapped in that monster's mind for too long. He invaded my thoughts, my memories, but I did the same to him. Mina was capable of destruction that put fear in his heart. Even though she didn't allow it to overtake her, it remained, as it does with you."

"I held more magic that night than I ever have before," Charlotte said. "It will return one day. I have a higher potential to become a dark witch now, to become nothing but destruction."

"I did turn dark and you stayed by my side. You can try to scare me off all you like. I'm not going anywhere."

Charlotte bit the inside of her cheek to hide her smile and nudged her nose against his. His fingers combed through her hair, his palm cradling the back of her head as he dipped his head to kiss her.

The door slammed open followed by the clatter of shoes on the wooden floor. Charlotte sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and pulled away from Alexander, smoothing her features into a neutral expression.

Zevvi rushed into the kitchen, the massive white crow gripping his shoulder.

"Mama told me to fetch you," he said. His breath came in short, panting gasps and his eyes were wide with wonder. "You have a visitor."

The crow flapped off of his shoulder, coasted across the small space of Yulia's kitchen, and came to rest on Charlotte's shoulder. Two months had passed, and she still found herself searching for Nivian's voice in her mind, for a whisper of Mina's presence.

There was nothing. Would they ever return? She had no idea what happened to them, if their spirits were set adrift in the living world, or if The Endless One had destroyed them.

As Charlotte stood, Alexander laced his fingers with hers and stood alongside her. Together, they stepped over the threshold of Yulia's house and into the sunlight.

A girl stood in the snow, bundled against the cold. Her long brown hair spilled out from under a hat pulled low over her eyes. She startled at the sight of the large white crow hunched over on Charlotte's shoulder.

"Are you...are you Charlotte de Winter?" she said through chattering teeth. Her accent was strange—not English and not Romanian, but something else...

American.

And faintly pulsing around her head was a golden corona of fire—the aura of a witch.

"That's me," Charlotte replied. "You must be Samara Cross."

Samara nodded. "I heard your call. The spell you sent out. I couldn't respond with my own magic..."

She glanced down at her spread hands. She was right. There was magic there but it was low, simmering. She must be fifteen, sixteen years old and her magic was still too weak for her to conjure.

"You need help," Charlotte said.

"Well, yes, I do. But that's not why I came."

Charlotte raised an eyebrow. "Why are you here then? America is a long way from Romania."

"It concerns another witch," Samara said. "You see, I can sense witches and their magic anywhere in the world. I just...can't communicate with them."

"That's quite a problem. We'll work it out later. For now, just tell me about this witch."

"Her name is Kali Singh. Her magic has been...locked down. She can't use it. I think it was taken from her. I think..." Samara fidgeted, plucking at her worn, wool mittens. "I think she's in trouble."

Charlotte held out her hand to Samara.

"We'd better find her."

***

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