For the first time, Esmera understood why the lark's flowers whispered in a foreign language, why the pebbles sparkled with light from another realm. Her familiar kept trying to contact her because of her link to a magical world she would've never imagined existed until today.

But there was something she still didn't understand.

"Why did my familiar only start visiting me on my 18th birthday if he has been bound to me since I was born?"

Lundas purred and licked Tauram's hand that dangled within his reach. Esmera glared at him.

She felt awful enough knowing there was a little bird who should've been to her what Lundas was to Tauram, that he kept reaching out to her because they had been kept separate for reasons beyond their control. She didn't need Lundas to remind her of that, to mock her for it.

Tauram absentmindedly rubbed Lundas's nose. "Familiars are bound from birth, but on the rare occasions when they're unclaimed, they seek out their sorcerers when they reach adulthood. That's when the bond between you becomes impossible to ignore, painful if they try." He met Esmera's eyes. "When you were born, your parents were concerned with the threat of the attack that finally took their lives. They never claimed your familiar on your behalf."

He gave a sad smile. "You and your familiar should've grown up together. You should've learnt how to take care of each other, how your powers work together." Tauram shook his head. "The bond between a familiar and their sorcerer is lifelong. Your lark would've been sent to a shelter for unclaimed and abandoned familiars. I have no idea how he has been slipping out of Milatanur to see you. Every day, you said?"

Esmera nodded. It didn't make any sense to her either that a little bird could—would—find a gap to sneak out of a heavily guarded fantastical land just to visit her.

She wished she had grown up with her lark. Maybe she'd have acquired his tenacity, his spirit. She'd have never been a girl who let the foster system toss her between homes where she was unwanted or a woman who let her fear keep her with a man who hurt her.

"What's it like having a familiar?" Esmera had to ask.

"It's like he completes you. He's your soulmate from a different species." Tauram smiled the softest smile Esmera had seen him wear. "There is no one you can trust more, who will be there for you through any challenge, obey your every demand and stand by you through every stupid decision you make. Your familiar will be the only being who's there for you when you have no one else."

There it was again, that wistfulness that told Esmera that Tauram was a man with a past hidden behind the words that would never betray it.

She tilted her head, studying him. "And do they feel the same way about us?"

Lundas gave his answer in a purr before he nuzzled Tauram's leg. Tauram grinned down at him, all traces of his thoughtful, remorseful self disappearing as he stroked a finger along Lundas's mottled gold and brown head.

Esmera's heart twinged at the undeniable trust between them, at the unmistakable love and commitment. She had always felt like a piece of her was missing. Her lark must feel it too. That's why he kept doing the impossible and coming to her.

Surely there was something Esmera could do. She should've never been separated from her familiar. A wrong had been done, and she had come far enough to unearth it. She could make it right.

"Is there any way I can reach Milatanur and claim my lark?"

Esmera didn't think that Milatanur being located on the other side of the earth would matter. It was the guarded portal Tauram had mentioned earlier that concerned her.

If reaching Milatanur was beyond magic, it would forever be beyond Esmera.

Esmera rested her hopeful gaze on Tauram, who shook his head. The heart that had sung out in recognition of her familiar now fell to her feet.

"Even if I wasn't banished and could accompany you there, all the known portals have been sealed off, and the one that is open is heavily guarded."

"But my lark is escaping through one." Esmera folded her arms over her chest in bewildered defiance.

She didn't know how this mysterious, enchanting world worked, but she had fought too long and hard through relationships that had been wrong for her to give up so soon on one that was right.

Tauram pursed his lips. "I said all 'known', Esmera. Your lark must be using a portal that escaped the authorities' notice."

Esmera sighed, letting her arms fall to her sides, where the fire brushed her hands with its warmth. Even that gave her no comfort against the heavy hopelessness taking her in its cold, bony fingers. "There's nothing I can do, then?"

"I'm afraid not. Sorry." Tauram smiled sadly. "I wish I could help you."

"You've helped a lot." Esmera appreciated the answers Tauram had given her, even if they had led her to more questions and nagging desires.

There was a whole world hidden behind a magical curtain, one as dense as air but as solid a barrier as stone. That was the world Esmera had been born in, the one where her family had lived and died, the one where the only being who would love her unconditionally resided, yearning for her as she did for him, and her feet would never touch that soil.

The cool mountain air would never caress her cheeks. Melodies both familiar and foreign would never drift up from the tiny, colourful villages to escort Esmera along the winding dirt paths.

She knew disappointment well. She shouldn't feel so crushed. She shouldn't let her shoulders sag or drag her feet so.

When Tauram held out his hand, reluctant hope trickled into Esmera's heart, but all he said was, "Here." He rested the whispering flower and the magical pebble on Esmera's outstretched palm.

"Thanks." Esmera tried for a smile, but it blew out like a candle ambushed by the wind.

Esmera and Tauram's hands met, lingered as their eyes did.

Tauram's lips parted. Again, Esmera felt that mocking, unlikely hope that he might have a way to help, that this wasn't over. Before he could speak, a dazzling green light engulfed them.

Esmera squeezed her eyes closed to block it out. Even so, it burned through her eyelids, stained her vision with its brightness. It swept through the room with fresh and airy power, like a morning breeze rustling pine trees.

When Esmera opened her eyes, she was still touching Tauram's hand, still too close to him for a woman who was trying to have good sense.

She pulled away, stumbling back into a table that had been waiting behind her to trip her up. She might've fallen on her face if Tauram didn't grab her by her waist before her flailing legs felled her.

She caught her breath, only to lose it all again when she looked up at him, at the uncharacteristic uncertainty that flickered through his narrow eyes, at the stray strand of black hair that fell over his forehead.

He let go first, stepping back and tucking his hands into the pockets of his pristine tweed pants. It was just as well he did.

Esmera had never been much good at doing what was best for her, even when she knew what it was. Why else hadn't she left Stephan after the first time he threw a vase at her?

Why else would she settle into the warmth of a man's hands when he was little more than a stranger to her?

Some books and movies made it seem like flirting with danger was the way to a good time, but Esmera could confirm it never ended well.

She looked away from Tauram and around at where they were instead. She had never seen this humble sitting room before, but it felt familiar with its earthy tones and somehow elegant too.

A flutter in the corner of her eye grabbed her attention. She and Tauram both turned as Belaren wrapped a fluffy white towel around his waist. Beads of water decorated his bare chest and dripped down his shoulders. A striped white and red shower cap contained his black hair.

He reminded Esmera of a candy cane, but the expression on his face was anything but sweet.

She looked away before he caught her staring, but he wouldn't have anyway. His glare was only for Tauram.

"You have got to be kidding me." His dark eyes were as fierce as daggers, as death. "How many times have I told you I never wanted to set foot on this wretched soil ever again?"

"I didn't do anything, I swear." Tauram held his hands up in a gesture of innocence. "I have no idea how we returned here."

Belaren pressed his lips into a line and crossed his arms over his chest. So vehement was his unspoken accusation that Esmera had to wonder if he was right, if Tauram was lying that he wasn't responsible for the sudden teleportation that had brought them here.

"I'd be more than willing to explain if you would only listen," said a voice as deep and rich as earth, echoing with all the centuries it had seen pass and would see long after every mortal life had wilted away.

Esmera's eyes snapped in the direction of the speaker. So did Tauram and Belaren's.

If Esmera hadn't been so disoriented by the teleportation or so wrapped up in Tauram and Belaren's argument, she would've never missed the woman sitting in the same room.

But she wasn't a woman. Divinity resonated in her voice and glowed in the green light surrounding her, the same light that had brought Esmera here.

A woman couldn't compress time and summon three people across space. Only a goddess could.

A flower sprouted impossibly from the ground to support her. Her hair fell in long, unruly waves to her waist, tangled with leaves, flowers and twigs. She had four arms and four hands.

It might've been Esmera's imagination, but she could've sworn that butterflies fluttered about the woman's head, that there were rainbows reflected in her endless dark eyes, that there was no limit to her supernatural beauty.

Tauram's eyes, it seemed, were only for the second woman.

She stood tall, gleaming in a rich blue garment embroidered with gold. Ornate earrings dangled from her earlobes, brushing against her slender shoulders. A golden crown rose proudly from the cascade of her glossy dark hair. Her grey eyes were beautiful against her light brown skin but not unearthly, her chiselled face striking but not godly. She was beautiful but undoubtedly mortal.

"Ghallia," breathed Tauram.

Her eyes latched onto him, solemn for a moment before her mouth curved in a slight smile. "Tauram."

Esmera looked between them in confusion, in curiosity. There was something unspoken in that exchange, something unsaid in the way their gazes lingered on each other before Ghallia turned to the goddess, her slight smile frozen on her face.

Belaren's mouth fell open as he looked between the two women. A fluffy dressing gown with polka dots appeared on his body.

It matched Belaren's flamboyant style, but it wasn't something Esmera had pictured him wearing until he was. Despite herself, she raised her eyebrows, hiding a giggle behind her hand.

"Hey, don't judge me." At the sharp look Belaren threw Esmera, her laughter dissipated.

As Belaren tied the gown's sash, a furry brown head appeared in the pocket at his hip. "Oh, there you are, Myresh! I don't know what I would've done had I left you behind."

Esmera blinked. So, it had been a squirrel she had seen dart into Belaren's pocket as he stepped out of the elevator earlier. It had been an hour or so ago, but it felt like a lifetime. Maybe it was.

Esmera had lived many lives since then, through the stories Tauram had told her about her deep buried roots.

Belaren's squirrel squeaked before leaping out of the pocket and scurrying to the goddess radiating green, the stripe running over his back turning into a blur.

The goddess smiled as she held out a hand to receive him. He scurried up her arm, across her shoulders and down one of her other arms before nestling against the green and gold silk covering her lap.

She raised her glowing eyes to the people before her. "Prince Tauram, Lord Belaren, Lady Esmera" —she looked between them each in turn— "welcome back to Milatanur."