Every part of Claire ached. Someone brushed against her shoulder and supported her head. The smallest movement made Claire feel as though she were filled with lead, but at last she managed to sit upright. She glanced upwards. Every scrap of the Beast had vanished. The sky was a more normal shade of blue, the sickly colours that made the Riftlands so distinctive already fading.

She scanned the circle. Jemroth knelt beside her, tired but calm. Lotte rubbed at her temples, blinking away confusion, like she’d only just regained consciousness herself. That was to be expected for a relatively untrained learth user. Gareth remained on the ground, his face now an unnatural green-grey.

Claire crawled to Gareth’s side. She flinched at his drained and pale face and the deep, dark shadows under his eyes. He’d been too long without seawater and performing a great magical working had hastened his deterioration. With a jolt of certainty, she knew this was the end of his journey. She wished he didn’t have to die in this forsaken place, devoid of warmth or humanity or life.

She smoothed his hair back and wiped sweat off his forehead with the edge of her tunic. “This isn’t fair. We should be rejoicing together that your world is safe.”

He smiled weakly. “I’m content. We did what we came to do. Won’t you all come and sit by me until the end comes? I’d die happy knowing my friends are with me.”

Lotte and Jemroth joined Claire and Gareth; Jemroth getting to his feet and moving with a slight dragging limp, Lotte crawling on hands and knees. There was nothing to say. Gareth’s breath grew shallower and shallower, his eyes closed, and his heart beat sluggish.

“It will be soon,” Jemroth said softly. “I—” but his sentence was interrupted by shouts.

Claire turned around. To their left, and in the distance, Marcus half-stumbled, half-walked as he supported Lord Dorran, the Saura watching over them as they headed towards her, but he wasn’t the one making all the racket. Cresting the edge of the land beneath the nearly closed Rift, a group of people entered her line of vision, coming up behind her brother and grandfather and sweeping them up into their party. Soon, their features were easier to make out. Shaggy horses of every colour ridden by men and women in a motley collection of robes, tunics, cloaks and hose came to a halt alongside five wooden carts. Everyone clapped and cheered. Their joy was infectious, making Claire want to join in with the raucous din. This must be the army Eidan had mentioned to Marcus, which meant Gwenivere and Maen and the others must be inside the carts.

Indeed, as she studied the tableaux, four men and women tumbled out of the first cart in a mess of wool skeins.

“Enchantment Weavers,” Lotte cried in delight.

Her friend was right. Before Claire had a chance to take in their arrival, the incorporeal and ghost-like Melinor, led by their Crian, surrounded the group of four. Within seconds, the Nereus appeared over Gareth, his expression grave as he tried to flick incorporeal seawater from his seaweed green and rusty red tail onto the boy’s cheeks. Salamanders clung to Claire’s arms, poured into her lap, clutched to strands of hair as three little gnomes clutched at Jemroth’s tunic, faces screwed up and red from frustration. They hit at Jemroth’s knees with tiny metal axes, making rents in his pants.

Jemroth’s eyes widened. “They’re talking to me,” he explained in wonder. “Can you hear them?” When Claire shook his head, he rushed on. “They want me to follow them right now. The Gofannon waits for me, just as Lyssa said.” His face fell. “But I can’t. Not yet. I won’t leave Gareth.”

Clearly unhappy, the gnomes hit Jemroth harder and he fell silent, no doubt trying to reason with them.

“We did as you bid, Lotte. Oh, what fun we had in that camp,” the Crian trilled, ignoring the other elementals as she glanced between both Lotte and Claire. “There’ll be no trouble from that quarter. They turned tail and fled.” She frowned, glancing down at Gareth, saliva spooling out of the corner of his mouth. “But this boy is dying, though I see no mortal wound.”

“One of Eidan’s councillors smashed his vial of seawater,” Claire explained, “and he can’t survive without it.” Wait, that wasn’t strictly true. She was speaking to the Crian after all. Maybe Gareth had a chance. “Can you whisk him to Maellwyn Manor like you whisked me where I needed to go all those weeks past?”

“What you ask is unusual, but because you saved the last surviving member of House Ushanan, and because you helped me wash out my guilt, I will let you command me.” The Crian looked sideways at the Nereus. “That is, if my actions are acceptable to the leader of the water elementals. I know my place.”

The ancient mermaid’s lips pursed as he thought, but at last, he nodded. “Do this,” he said aloud, his words deep and rumbling, “and I shall forgive you for your part in Kelt and the Rift.”

The Crian smiled, her face transformed into something fierce and beautiful. “It shall be done.”

“Good. I go now to alert Maellwyn Manor to its heir’s arrival.” Before anyone could react, the Nereus vanished.

Claire lent forward, gripping tight to Gareth’s fingers. “Thanks for everything. I’ll never forget you.” His faint answering smile assured her he heard and understood. “When you’re better, help Lotte and Jemroth and the others rebuild. All three of you will be the leaders of a magical House and you’ve had the most training and experience for the role, Gareth. Be gentle and kind the way you were to me when we first met, share your thoughtful nature and your intelligence with them.” She bent closer and kissed his cheek, then stood. “Get back,” she waved to Lotte and Jemroth. She looked up at the Crian. “Take him home.”

A cold mist crashed over her, its damp stealing through flesh and into bone. Claire couldn’t see a thing. When the fog cleared, the Crian, her Melinor and Gareth were gone. Jemroth and Lotte’s cheeks glistened with tears as Lotte started forward.

Even as she did, something flashed across Claire’s vision. The silver thread that remained of the Rift glowed and dazzled, narrower now than it had been ten minutes ago. She shivered, struggling to her feet as a knot of people hurried over, baskets of food on their shoulders, Marcus and Lord Dorran amongst them. She recognised everyone immediately. “Maen! Meghan! Gwenivere! Tarn! Rael! Kiera!” she called. “Thank goodness you’re safe too.” The Enchantment Weavers, headed by Lyssa, trailed behind at a short distance. Lyssa carried a bundle in her arms, though from this distance Claire couldn’t make out what it was. More wet tears trickled down her cheeks, though this time they were ones of relief.

Kiera ran forward smiling, putting her arms firmly around Claire. “I was so afraid,” she murmured into Claire’s hair.

Rael laughed, passing Claire a honey cake when she let Kiera go. “With good reason. We wouldn’t have stood a chance against Eidan’s army. I could have led these good farmers and villagers, but there would have been bloodshed. My scouts saw the camp and we were trying to decide when to reveal ourselves. The distraction in Eidan’s camp meant we could come out of hiding and make our way towards you.”

“Whatever you pulled off, it worked a treat,” Maen added, kneeling to offer water skins and cake to Jemroth and Lotte.

“It seems not everyone liked Eidan’s sudden change of policy towards magical brethren.” Gwenivere waved behind her. “These people joined us and will help tell the truth about what happened at Dorran Manor. It won’t be easy preventing a civil war but I think we’re up to the challenge.”

She ground to a halt as Lord Dorran reached Claire’s side, still leaning on Marcus for support, the Saura standing over him in a halo of red and orange flame. He was closely followed by Lyssa and the Enchantment Weavers, who formed a semi-circle behind him. Lord Dorran smiled proudly at Claire, but his eyes were tired.

Gwenivere turned to him with her own small smile. “Lord Dorran, I didn’t notice you amongst the crowd. We thought you killed at Dorran Manor and as to you, Marcus, I didn’t think Claire would find you alive, let alone rescue you.”

“I wasn’t rescued,” Marcus explained, as he stared at the ground and Lord Dorran frowned in disappointment, his breathing ragged. “I was on Eidan’s side right up until he almost murdered Claire and I realised what he really was.” He groaned. “I’ve been a total idiot, but who was I meant to believe? The man and his fellow magical brethren who had kidnapped me without so much as a by your leave, or the man who promised me safety and security and eventually a way back home?” At Claire’s look, he flushed. “No, that’s not fair. I had a chance to help Claire in Kelnariat but I wouldn’t listen to her. I was jealous, so I didn’t want to believe her. I couldn’t handle being wrong as well as less talented at something for once.”

Claire took pity on him as she licked crumbs off her fingers. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lotte and Jemroth get to their feet, rejuvenated by the food, Jemroth clutching at his gnomes as they refused to let go of his clothing. “But Marcus did some good in the end. He helped kill Eidan. We had to when he wouldn’t listen to reason. And then I called on the Saura and the other elementals came too, and the Crian—”

“The Crian was here?” Maen spluttered.

“She and her Melinor helped the other elementals cause destruction in Eidan’s camp.”

“What the Crian did there is no coming back from. She is no friend of ours, now or ever.”

“Says who?” Claire asked, hands on hips. “She accepts her role in creating the Rift and she has played her part in closing it. She helped me more than once, and just now she saved Gareth’s life.”

“Or says she did,” Maen shot back.

“Have ya learnt nothing from the creation of the Rift?” Lotte huffed. “If we’re to make a better Kelnarium, everyone must stand united; the four Houses and Dream Mages, Melinor and Enchantment Weavers, farming folk and ...” she took a deep breath, “exiles.”

Shocked faces stared at Lotte.

“Yep,” she went on, “I’m an exile. Go on. Look at me with disgust.” She paused, folding her arms, “and then get over it. I’m one of ’em thanks to me da, but I’m the last survivor of House Ushanan too thanks to me mam. I helped Claire close the Rift, I’m the leader of a magical House and I’ll find my people and rebuild, but I’ll protect the exiles too, for part of ’em be in me.”

She stared at everyone defiantly as Jemroth strode to her side, a hand resting on Lotte’s shoulder. He’d managed to dislodge the gnomes and they stood behind him in a huddle, discussing something in inaudible mutters. “I don’t doubt she’ll succeed,” Jemroth said. “She’s too determined and too talented in learth to fail. Besides, I’ll support her every step of the way in whatever she chooses to do. I, too, am leader of a magical house.” He glanced at Lyssa. “Ask this good dame or Lord Maellwyn if you don’t believe me.” He paused as Lyssa stepped forward.

Now the Enchantment Weaver was closer, Claire saw she held a neatly folded green and bronze uniform in her hands, a gold ring with a jasper stone as its centrepiece sitting neatly atop the clothing.

“Lord Maellwyn gave me these for safekeeping after the battle with Kelt,” she said, her voice ringing with authority. “Lord Jemroth is exactly who he claims. After today, he shall go seek the Gofannon and rebuild House Domain. We have woven it.”

Jemroth took the items Lyssa proffered with a small bow, the gnomes hugging his ankles again, this time in obvious excitement. “Lotte and I have big jobs ahead of us, but we’re not alone,” he said gravely. “We have each other. All four of us do; Claire, Gareth, Lotte and me.”

Claire’s voice was the most confident she’d ever heard it. “They’re both right. What’s more, today can be about more than closing the Rift. We can heal past wounds. With Eidan gone there will be new rulers in Kelnariat. Don’t let a tyrant take Eidan’s place.”

Silence sat heavy on the group, though Claire noticed her grandfather looked thoughtful as the Saura whispered something in his ear. Claire supposed she shouldn’t be too hard on them. Their whole world had flipped upside down with Claire’s arrival in Kelnarium.

Lyssa came forward to peer into Lotte’s face, then turned back to Lord Dorran and Maen, seemingly pleased with what she’d read in their expressions. “I agree with Lady Claire. This could be the start of a new age. All of us, if we work together, can make sure it’s a time of happiness and prosperity, of good governance and of peace between our peoples, including those we have once mistrusted.” She nodded at Claire. “You’ll stay to rebuild with the other current and future leaders of the magical Houses, of course. I’m sure Lords Dorran and Maellwyn will help all of you.”

“Yes,” Lord Dorran said, having finally recovered his breath. “I, at least, am prepared to put past prejudices behind me to guide you young people as you learn what it means to rule a House. Stay, Claire. Think of it as a balancing of the scales. Your mother in Shale in exchange for you in Kelnarium.” He glanced kindly at Marcus. “You’re welcome to try and find a place with us too. You’re our family and we forgive you.”

“Claire and Lotte will both help shape our future,” Jemroth added enthusiastically. “There’s nothing those two and me and Gareth can’t do when we put our minds to it. First things first, we have to get Lotte her grey and purple House Ushanan uniform. There’re paintings at Maellwyn Manor of how they used to look. We’ll journey back there together to make sure Gareth is safe and study those images and then we’ll head to Kelnariat to sort out Kelnarium’s government and get new clothes made by the finest tailors into the bargain. Then, I’m off to find my old home and my elemental leader. I know I’ll succeed with you three at my side.”

Lyssa smiled. “You and Lotte will both make fine leaders, as will Claire when she takes over the position from her grandfather.”

The picture everyone painted was so tempting. For a second, Claire almost considered staying in Kelnarium – it would be easier, she’d have status and magic and friends – but then she thought of her parents longing for her to come home. She couldn’t do that to them. Before she could fish for the right words to explain, Meghan stepped forward to fling a blanket about her shoulders. “Perhaps this land will change now that the Rift is closing,” she said.

Claire looked up at the sky. The crack had closed to a whisp. She couldn’t wait any longer.

“Are you listening?” Lyssa asked. Claire met her eyes with a start as the Enchantment Weaver went on. “Don’t you agree it is you who can build a new Kelnarium?”

She gaped. “Me? I ... I can’t stay here.” She thought again of her parents.

“Please,” Lotte cried. “We have to make sure no one lets us slip back into old habits.”

Her grandfather stepped forward. “And we can be a family without impending doom getting in the way.”

“I have a life in Shale, one I can’t keep running from,” Claire said sadly. “Once the Rift closes, I can’t get home.” She stared upwards. “And it’s almost shut.”

“Is there really much for you there?” Meghan asked gently. “I know there’s your parents, but other than them, you’ve never said a good word about the place, and think about how much you could do.”

Claire chewed the inside of her lips. “Marcus and I don’t belong here, just as Gareth doesn’t belong away from Maellwyn Manor. We have to go home,” she insisted, looking at her brother, who was staring at the ground, abashed.

Silence descended like a heavy blanket. No one looked at each other.

Finally, Kiera spoke. “If Claire wants to go home, we should respect her wishes.” Her bright eyes sparked with something Claire couldn’t quite place.

Claire smiled at Kiera, then reached for Marcus’s hand. Her brother groaned as he looked up to meet Lord Dorran’s eyes. “I’m useless at learth - Maen said so often enough - but leave me behind. Perhaps I can atone for my dreadful mistakes.”

“Think of Mum and Dad and me trying to justify letting you stay,” Claire said. “Not to mention, Laura will be devastated. Get over your fear of failure. Gwenivere will make sure we make it back in one piece.” She shot the Dream Mage leader a stern glance. “Won’t you?”

Gwenivere nodded, wide-eyed. “It’s the same as when we practised at Dorran Manor, only this time it’s the real thing. Are you sure about this? On the way, you’ll lose all your considerable learth ability, as your mother did. You’ll never see your salamanders again.”

“If that’s the price we must pay to see her again, I’ll pay it gladly.” Besides, part of her knew she’d gained something other than magic in Kelnarium. She’d learnt to interact with all kinds of people and more importantly, she’d learnt how to lead them. She’d take those skills home and use them and she’d be less afraid. She interlaced her fingers with her brother’s, then glanced over her shoulder at Rael and Kiera. There were tears in both their eyes.

“We’ll be fine,” she insisted with a false, bright smile. “Shale isn’t as bad as all that.”

Before anyone could argue, the others rushed forward, flinging their arms about the pair. Finally, Lord Dorran hugged them both tight. “I’ll miss you,” he said gruffly. “I was wrong to be so hard on you, Marcus and Claire, you were everything I wanted and needed you to be. Tell your mother ...” He paused. “Tell her that I love her.”

“I’ll tell her,” Claire said, carefully removing the Dorran ring from around her neck to return it to its rightful owner. She held onto the second necklace she wore, her Dorran pendant. She’d look at it in Shale and remember her grandfather. “But something tells me she already knows.”

He slid her hands away from his as the Saura’s leathery voice sounded in Claire’s mind. You did well, child. Do not fear for your grandfather. I shall look after him as I’ve always done, and there’ll be a new heir to House Dorran in time.

Thank you, Claire sounded back. But there’s one more thing worrying me. When Jemroth finds the Gofannon, help the Nereus to persuade him to forgive the Crian. She made a mistake but that’s in the past now. All four of you elemental leaders are strongest when you work together. Am I right?

There was a long silence and then a humbled, Yes. I will do as you ask.

Finally satisfied, Claire let herself be drawn back to the main party. Biting back more tears, she nodded at everyone, then gazed up at the sky as Gwenivere and Tarn picked their way closer to her and Marcus, slow and mournful as any funeral procession.

Before they reached her, Lotte and Jemroth both broke ranks, flinging their arms around Claire.

“Every time I see a beautiful horse, I’ll think of you,” Jemroth said gruffly as he and Lotte let go of Claire’s shoulders, his gnomes standing to the side and waiting patiently now they knew Jemroth was ready to take up his mission.

Claire held back tears but managed a small grin. “I’ll do the same in Shale. I could always rely on you, Jemroth. If I find someone half as trustworthy as you back home I’ll consider myself lucky.” He nodded, then sniffed as Claire turned to Lotte.

“Things’ll be different now, thanks to ya,” Lotte said. “I’ll make sure they happen the way we promised each other they would. Jemroth and Gareth will too.”

Claire gripped her friend’s shoulders tight. She never wanted to let go, but she knew that if she didn’t leave now, she never would. “You’re my best friend, Lotte,” she said. “Even if I never see you again, no one in my world can ever replace you.”

She scoffed two more honey cakes to try and prevent burn-out after so much magic use, then drank in everyone’s faces one more time, trying to commit each to memory, focussing last on Jemroth, solid and dependable, then Lotte, impulsive and fierce. She’d never forget either of them.

“I’m ready.” Closing her eyes, she reached for Marcus. His pinky-red learth threads were faint, but she was able to connect with him easily. Gwenivere and Tarn soon wrapped around them in skeins of silver.

-Call fire- Gwenivere sounded.

Drawing on Marcus’s limited strength too, Claire created a corridor of the stuff in the remaining silver thread above her. As she did, Gwenivere and Tarn conjured a golden light that overlaid everything. The crack widened a fraction. Beyond it, wind tore at grey streams billowing across the sky. Blinding white light hurt Claire’s eyes and lightning crackled, its electric tang combining with the scent of cooked meat.

-That’s your path. Stay straight and true. Goodbye- Gwenivere sounded in Claire’s mind.

Claire felt like she’d been pushed off a vast cliff as she tumbled wildly through the woven mesh of light and colour, hair whipping into her face as she clutched her brother. If she’d thought her journey harsh when she’d first come to Kelnarium, now was a mad rush of energy making it harder and harder to hold onto learth.

She tried to centre herself. As their descent gained velocity, Claire’s eyes opened of their own volition and she saw the hard ground below them.

The ground of another world. Hers.

Magic itched through her blood and skin, demanding to be used. Somehow, Claire knew they’d die if they didn’t reach for learth now.

She grasped at Marcus’s mind. At first, she thought it was barricaded to her, but his learth was still active, if faint. She prodded. There was no time for delicacy.

-Make the smallest spark. Anything-

His attempt was pathetic, but Claire augmented his efforts with her own considerable power. Magic tore through her like a spear as she shot flames high above them. Even as she fell, she stretched out onto tiptoes, her hands stretching back for Kelnarium. She ignored the voice that begged her to hold on. Being ordinary was a small price to pay if she could be reunited with her family again.

She waited until the more natural red-brown dirt of the National Park rushed up to meet her and then she flung hers and Marcus’s combined skeins of learth high into the sky. Her ears popped and lightning flashed overhead as the Rift closed forever.

Then she hit the ground.

The wind stopped tearing at her unprotected skin and the dust and the ash settled so that she could open her eyes. Marcus lay face down in mud beside her; dirty and sooty, hair sticking up every which way. Claire knew she must look a similar fright.

The sky was unblemished, a near perfect cornflower blue, thick branches of gum trees weaving all around them. Gasping for deep lungfuls of air, Claire choked on hysterical laughter. “We did it, Marcus.”

Half-sobbing, half-coughing, Marcus tried to stand up. “Thanks to you, Sis!” he croaked.

Her green eyes met his blue ones as she smiled. “Don’t expect me to follow after you every time you vanish into another universe.”

He punched her arm playfully. “You won’t be able to help yourself.”

She linked her arm in his. Supporting each other, they took an unsteady step forward.

“I’ll never forget what I did,” Marcus said. “It happened in another world, but I’ll never stop feeling guilty that I doubted you.”

Claire shook her head. “Everyone makes mistakes. It’s part of growing up, I suppose.” Even so, she knew something had changed between them forever; no longer would he be her knowledgeable older brother, forever the leader. In another world she had found she was made of stronger stuff.

“Shall we?” Marcus asked.

She nodded. “I wonder how much time has passed in Shale?”

He began to walk, slowly at first, but then surer as his strength returned and the shock wore off. “We’ll find out soon enough.”

As they neared the end of the dam trail and the path widened into the familiar grass across from their house, Marcus broke into a run, calling to her to hurry, laughter lines appearing across his face.

Claire raced to catch up, so that arm in arm they unlatched the screen door to the farmhouse. At first the silence seemed claustrophobic, but then Mum and Dad rushed forward; both wearier and more careworn then when Claire had seen them last. In their crushing embrace, Claire could push thoughts of all she had left behind away, her love for home filling her like water rushing into a deep well.