Pine’s mother is trembling.

‘So close,’ she whispers, soft enough that only the girls can hear. ‘So close. I was afraid I’d have to…’

Pine pats her hand in reassurance. She knows that together they would have had enough power to stop all these guards. But the consequences of doing so would be drastic. Witches such as themselves are only tolerated as long as they behave, and hurt no-one, and do not rebel.

Pine would have never made this journey if it was up to her. Too many men with swords, too much danger here, around these nobles and their authority. But the need of the creature was too great.

They stand by their cart, not knowing what to do next. The guards look perplexed. Magnolia holds the Princess, murmuring something to her. Plum is smiling, victorious.

‘I told you it’d work,’ she says again. ‘I knew she’d hear.’

‘Don’t do that again,’ Orchid says. Her palm is still on her heart, as if that can calm its beating. ‘Do you know how scary it was when he nearly stabbed you?’

‘He wouldn’t,’ Plum says. ‘I’d have moved away. I’m fast, you know that.’ But she doesn’t seem as sure of it as her words imply, and her hands are shaking.

Magnolia lets go at last, and the Princess looks at the other girls. There are tears on her cheeks, but she is smiling.

‘My lady?’

And just like that, the smile vanishes as if it has never been. The Princess whirls around to face the Prince, and Pine drops hastily to her knees. No need to anger him — not now, when they need his favor. It will not be easy to sound subservient, but under the circumstances there is not much choice.

The Prince strides toward the Princess, and when Pine lifts her head just a little for a glimpse of his face, she sees shock there. He motions to one of the guards, and the man darts away. Jade remains silent.

The Prince begins speaking again, in a voice soothing yet slightly forced. The guard returns with an embroidered coverlet, and hands it to the Prince with a deep bow. The Prince puts it over Jade’s shoulders, but she doesn’t move to take it, and he has to hold it in place for her. He keeps talking, and his tone grows more natural as he goes on, with his shock decreasing and his self-possession coming back. Pine does not know this language, save a few words of address that her mother taught her. Yet the way the Princess stands, silent and unresponsive, makes Pine worry despite not understanding the words.

‘You!’ The Prince turns to the villagers, there by their cart, and points at Pine’s mother. ‘Rise, and explain this… incursion.’

‘Yes, my lord.’ Mother stands up and steps forward a little, placing herself in front of the girls. Pine can only see her skirt, now. Further away, Jade still stands as if frozen. Magnolia is wringing her hands. A face appears in the tavern’s window, but only momentarily, probably deciding that it is best not to interfere. ‘We apologize profoundly for the disturbance,’ Mother says, ‘but there is an innocent life to be saved, and it is only my lady who can do it.’

‘How can that be?’ the Prince asks, and it is hard to tell if he is inclined to believe or not. ‘My lady is no healer.’

Pine hears her mother breathe in, and recognizes what is coming. Her heart sinks. This could end them all if the Prince has prejudices they did not account for. But she remembers the creature in the cart, and knows what had to happen. There is no time for intrigue, for any but the most direct means.

‘I am a witch, my lord,’ Mother says simply, and Pine hears the Prince gasp. ‘You may have heard that one night, during the lady’s stay in our village, she journeyed into the woods. That very night, a mystical creature was born there, and because the lady was among those who discovered it, it then has come to recognize her as one of its… mothers, after a fashion. This is a magical bond, my lord, and when the lady’s departure severed it… Well, perhaps it will all be clearer if my lord sees for himself.’

The Prince waves in the direction of the cart, and two of the guards move cautiously towards it.

‘You understand what will be done to you if you endanger my person, or the lady’s,’ the Prince says evenly.

‘I do, my lord.’

The guards look inside the cart, and one of them shrieks in horror —

‘What!’

‘What is it?’ the Prince demands, standing on tiptoes to see yet also stepping back. ‘Can you bring it out?’

‘We shall attempt to, my lord,’ the other guard says, but its voice is tremulous. ‘What is this thing, witch? What atrocity have you created with your rituals?’

‘My magic cannot create life,’ Pine’s mother answers. She still sounds very calm, but Pine knows her well enough to understand it is only pretense. Mother is just as afraid of the Prince as they all are — as they all should be. The ways of execution favored by the capital are not merciful, nor fast. ‘This being is a stranger, wandered in from lands far away. But it is very ill now, and too tired to hurt anyone.’

‘With that horn? I wouldn’t…’ one of the guards begins, then — ‘And look at those teeth! There’s blood on them!’

‘Blood?’ The Prince takes a few more steps away from the cart, and pulls Jade back with him. Iris lets out a tiny whimper. ‘Innocent, didn’t you say? Is this an evil plan, to unleash this onto my person?’

‘No, my lord,’ Pine’s mother says, and at the same time a guard speaks —

‘It is tied up, my lord. A great deal of rope.’

‘Well, keep it that way, then,’ the Prince says with a shiver. ‘Check that the rope is secure. And bring it out. I wish to assess this atrocity myself.’

From where she is, Pine cannot see what the guards are doing. She can only risk lifting her head so much. But she hears them as they lift the creature between them, then jump out of the cart awkwardly, raising more dust. The Prince clamps his free hand over his mouth, and a few of the guards do the same.

‘What is that?’ the Prince begins, his voice muffled by his own fingers. ‘Some kind of twisted, horse-like, utterly disgusting…’

Suddenly, as the creature is being laid on the ground some distance away from him, Jade pulls her hand out of his and flings herself towards the creature.

‘My lady, no!’

But it is too late. Jade kneels by its side already, her hands around its face — not minding its half-opened mouth, the bloody teeth, the long, sharp horn. Jade touches its brows, its cheeks, and it looks up at her in mute entreaty, but nothing more happens. It cannot, without magic. Pine tenses, searching for the broken ends of the bond, but her mother finds them first.

‘I can feel it,’ she says excitedly. ‘There it is now, my lord, the bond, clear as day to me.’ Now Pine finds it too, but to her it is no more than a frayed shadow. She still has much to learn. ‘I can fix it, restore it. May I proceed?’

‘Will it hurt my lady?’

‘No.’ This is false, Pine knows. With this unknown magic, Mother has no way to be sure. But if she had said so, the Prince would likely not allow it — and that they cannot afford. The creature lies still, all fight gone from it, and Pine can sense its life ebbing — slowly but surely.

‘Then you may.’ The Prince gives Mother a sharp look, then his face softens when he turns to Jade. Yet his voice remains on edge, as he says, still addressing Mother — ‘But remember, if anything goes not as you say, then…’

‘I understand, my lord.’ But Mother is already striding forward, and as she approaches, Jade looks up.

For the first time, the Prince seems to notice the others — the girls, kneeling by the cart, forgotten. Plum is surreptitiously trying to dust off her hem.

‘You may rise,’ the Prince commands, but he sounds anxious, and his eyes slide back to Jade and to the creature. ‘Stay where you are, and do not interfere.’

‘Yes, my lord,’ Magnolia echoes.

They cluster together to watch.

‘My knees hurt,’ Peony whispers. ‘Do you think it will work?’

‘Seems so,’ Pine replies in a whisper, too. ‘I can pick up on little of it, but if Mother says…’

Plum is biting her lip as she watches.

‘Will it be long?’ she asks.

‘Don’t think so…’

Jade sits motionless like a stone, with one hand still on the creature’s cheek. Little enough seems to be happening, but Pine can feel what cannot be seen, and she senses the great amount of energy her mother is pulling in. It is like darning, a little — patching the bond, pulling the ends together until they overlap enough for the flow to recover, for the lives connected to interact again…

The wind rises, and Jade’s hair streams all around her face. She pulls the coverlet closer around herself, but her eyes are on Pine’s mother. The hands of the witch are moving, weaving a pattern only she and her daughter can comprehend. The others stand around, watching quietly, and Pine is the only one who glances upwards and sees what she knew would be happening — the clouds racing to cover the sky that was clear just moments ago.

Abruptly the sunlight disappears, and now, startled, the Prince looks up, too.

‘What is this?’ he demands again, but there is fear in his voice, hiding behind the command. ‘What have you done?’

‘No need to worry, my lord,’ Pine’s mother intones, as her fingers keep on weaving. ‘This is to be expected. Nature is reacting, that is all. Quite safe.’

‘Safe? You’re bringing a storm upon us!’

‘Not a storm, my lord, this is not a strong enough magic — a spot of rain at most… It is almost done, just…’

Suddenly Jade gasps and folds over, as if stabbed in the chest.

For a moment, all is quiet, then the Prince roars —

‘Seize the witch! Haven’t I warned you?..’

But Jade is already standing up, wobbling on unsteady legs, raising an open palm towards the guards to stop them. Pine’s mother steps away, and Pine can feel the sudden rush of energy around them, which means that it is finished. The healed bond rings in the air, alive as if with electricity, so bright to her senses that she wonders how the others can possibly not see it, not feel it in their very nerves. Yet the creature still lies bound, and Pine knows it must be released now. It has spent too long tied down as it is.

She dashes forward, past the guards and Jade and her own mother. The Prince yells something, but Pine doesn’t catch it. The wind keeps rising still, whipping her braid around, getting under her clothes. There is a knife in her boot, and she pulls it out to hack at the bonds, to set the creature free.

But as she leans down to do it, she sees a flare of light beginning in the creature’s pupils, and then she has only enough time to scream —

‘Shield your eyes!’

Then it grows, rapid as a waterfall, and even through tightly shut eyelids its brightness is almost unbearable.

The spirit rises…

It was not an easy journey, in this strange land so far from home. Yet it has found a way, and those who would protect it until it was grown enough to return the favor. They were frightened, and the spirit knows. They were mistrustful, and the spirit is aware. But they remained by its side, even when the pain of parting shattered its mind and made it no more than a wounded animal. Even then, they remained.

The spirit remembers.

It is not easy to love something so uncanny, so disturbing. It is not easy to care for it, when you do not love it. But they are human, and humans are moved by tears. The spirit can see tears now, on the cheeks of the one who abandoned it — who now stands aside, shivering, her eyes covered by a fold of cloth. As the light dims, the covers are lowered, and the eyes cautiously open again.

The spirit watches, and the people watch back…

Orchid stares up at the figure. It is only the size of an overlarge horse, yet in the same time somehow it looms half across the sky, shining moon-white against the grey clouds. Its horn sparkles as if made of diamond, its mane seems finer than the most delicate of silks, and its eyes glimmer a deep, watery green — the only reminder of the sickly color the creature had been. It feels to her as if the being is looking directly into her soul — all of their souls. But the touch of its mind is not malicious.

The flash threw most people to the ground, and they are rising now, slow and wary. The guards step closer to their lord, but their eyes are trained on the creature. The Prince is staring up at it, too, with his mouth slightly open.

‘This is…’ His voice breaks, and he has to start over. ‘This is incredible. What are you?’

The creature does not speak, yet its voice makes its way into Orchid’s mind as effortlessly and naturally as if it has always belonged there.

You have been told true. The creature’s eyes are dark like the bottom of a pond, yet the darkness glows, and Orchid can see the Prince tremble. I am not of this land. I travel to find those who will aid me, and then aid them in return. But I do not travel in this land, which is far from the place of my origin. Yet the woods and the rivers change so subtly, and the road tempts… Its voice grows softer, stranger. I had lost myself on the way, and by the time I knew it, the time has come for the change. Thus I was to find what I needed, or expire. The great eyes move from the Prince to slide over the girls — all seven in turn. A warm, gentle wind touches Orchid’s face — nothing to the gale that was. But you, humans — you are the same everywhere, the same darkness and same light in every one of you. And so I did find those I needed, and moved onwards as I was meant to. Now the time has come to show my gratitude to those who were my mothers through this time — this life — this iteration. Those who did not turn away from me, did not abandon me, even if they did not quite understand.

The Princess says something. She stands right before the creature, and Orchid can only see her back, but once she speaks her voice makes it clear she has been crying.

True, the creature responds to her, but I could hear the call of your heart, and knew you did not want to go. And you have come to me the moment you could. Therefore I forgive you, and you should stand with the other mothers of mine. Go to them, where you belong.

She nods, clearly understanding its words just as Orchid can. Orchid has to wonder if the creature is even using a language at all, or if its communication is somehow more direct. Jade steps back without turning, until she bumps into Plum, who catches her by the shoulders, then embraces her.

‘Where she belongs?’ the Prince asks in sudden suspicion. ‘The lady is to be my wife. She belongs with me.’

She will go where she chooses.

‘Well, good,’ the Prince says, somewhat grumpily. ‘We do have an agreement, you know. It is of great importance. My lady belongs in a palace, not in some border village.’

‘What now?’ Pine’s mother asks. ‘An iteration, you say. This is a path you’ve walked many times before, haven’t you? So what now? What do you do next?’

The creature’s eyes lift to look beyond the yard — to the road that winds between the fields, and the forests in the distance.

I shall return to my homeland. I am grown again now, and powerful. I will leave you and go. Its stare travels back to rest on the girls again. But before I do so, ask of me what you will. You have found me and stood by me, and in return I shall grant your wishes, if that is in my power. One wish for one mother of mine.

The words do not immediately make sense, but when Orchid realizes their meaning, a fervent hope stabs through her heart. She turns to Peony and sees the same thought in her eyes. Is it in this being’s power? There is only one thing Orchid truly wants, but that she wants more than anything. Can it be this easy, after all? No need for the money, no need to travel far? She is terrified to believe, yet hope blossoms even as she tries hard to stifle it, knowing how much it will hurt if it cannot come true.

But order has to be observed.

The Prince pushes the Princess forward, muttering something into her ear. There is urgency in his voice, almost a plea. Next to Orchid, Magnolia and her sisters are talking in hurried whispers, too low for her to catch.

The Princess kneels, looking at the ground, and speaks.

The creature blinks.

A wise choice, it says, but it sounds disappointed. Are you certain?

She nods.

Peace it is, the creature says. Iris and Plum start whispering again. Eternal peace I cannot grant you, for it is not within my power. But peace in this land for a few generations — that much I can give you. Another may ask me now.

The Princess whispers something that must be a ‘thank you’. Magnolia steps forward tentatively, casting backward glances at her sisters.

‘I will wish for health,’ she says. ‘For health for all in our village, and however many others would be possible.’

I am capable of doing this for a few towns. Which ones would you pick?

Magnolia looks even more nervous, and starts wringing her hands again.

‘I can’t choose, can I?’ she says. ‘Everyone deserves it, really. Can’t it be random? Then it’s fair.’

As you wish. Health it is. Another may ask me.

As Magnolia thanks it and retreats, Iris steps forward. Peony grips Orchid’s hand very tightly.

‘I will ask for good harvests,’ Iris says. ‘Mother told me of that famine from before we were born… I don’t want that to happen again.’

‘That was not our fault,’ the Prince interrupts. ‘Nobody could’ve expected a winter that harsh. Even in the palace we had to eat rats and the like. Good wish, girl.’

A few generations I can give you. Good harvests it is. Another may approach me.

While Iris thanks the creature, Plum strides forward.

‘Education,’ she proclaims once her sister finishes, and her eyes sparkle.

‘But you have it!’ the Prince interrupts again, indignant.

‘True, my lord,’ Plum says, and because of her height she ends up looking down on him. ‘But it is not enough. Believe me, I have more books than anyone else in the village, and I remember how much work it was to acquire each one. And I would not even know how to read if not for my parents — and they had been taught by our witch here. We need more, my lord, much more. Books — good, cheap books for everyone. Teachers, for those who cannot read. Knowledge that is useful and true, that a person can rely on. Knowledge that will save us when those few generations run out, and people have to face war and famine again.’

This cannot happen immediately, the being says, but I can start processes that will lead to this. Will that satisfy your wish?

‘Yes, and you have my gratitude.’

Pine approaches the creature next, as her mother watches on.

‘I shall ask for luck,’ she says. ‘Even the best of harvests can be mismanaged, and the most educated people can err. My wish is that when this happens, it does not hurt us much. Whatever comes, my wish is that we all walk out of it unharmed, or as close to it as can be.’

The creature contemplates her for a bit.

This is a complicated wish. But I will do what I can. I cannot save you from death, but I can deflect more minor troubles. Will that be enough for you?

‘Any improvement is enough. I thank you.’

Peony’s fingers lie cold as ice in Orchid’s grasp — or is it her own skin that has grown cold with fear? After the Princess, they could have already approached — there was no more need to wait then. But it is scary to ask, knowing they may hear it cannot be done. The creature’s stare focuses on them, and Orchid knows the time has come. There is no more delaying.

Two left, the creature says. Why have you not come forward? I sense that your wish is urgent.

Holding hands, together they come closer. The others look on, and Orchid can see understanding in their eyes. They must all know, for all that she and Peony tried to hide it. What happened to their mother could never be a secret, not after all these years. Their friends must all know that there was some sort of a plan.

‘We have only one wish for the two of us,’ Peony says. ‘Please, can you lift the curse from our mother?’

To Orchid, it is as if the whole world stops while the being considers this request. The tufts of grass in the yard, the fences, the curtained windows all swim into sudden sharp relief — more real than Orchid ever remembers. It can only last a moment, yet feels interminable. If it cannot be done… if it can’t be…

It is a great curse, the creature says at last. And old. Very deep-rooted. But I will attempt to unravel it. Wait.

It closes its eyes and lies down on the ground, folding its legs under the body. A real horse would never move in this fluid, cat-like way. Why is she paying attention to this? Orchid tells herself off for it, but it is no use. She cannot think of what is happening now, of what is being decided. She cannot. It is too much, after all this time. What if even this creature cannot help — is there even any use in asking witches, then? Surely they cannot be more powerful than a being that could grant peace to an entire country. So if it does not work… if…

Peony grips her hand hard enough to hurt, but Orchid welcomes it. It is a grounding, a reminder of reality. Other people lose their parents and go on living without them. Other people manage.

But Mother is not dead, not yet, and it has been this tiny sliver of a chance that has always cut them so deeply, pained them both so much…

The sisters wait, staring at the creature, and Orchid knows she cannot look away. Her heart hammers so powerfully it is hard to breathe, and her legs have grown weak. If she has to move, she will probably fall. So she does nothing, and only stands there, with Peony’s hand in hers feeling as if they’ve grown into one, joined in their fear and burning, desperate hope.

The creature opens its eyes, and Orchid feels the earth move under her feet.

I have done it. It is broken.

‘Water, now!’

Following the Prince’s command, a guard rushes into the tavern, and the moment he opens the door Magnolia can see a figure inside. She understands. If this was happening in her own home’s yard, she knows her parents would be eavesdropping, too. It is preferable to keep an eye on your guests at the best of times, and then after that enormous flash… It must have been visible from miles away. Anyone would want to know what that was about.

Water is brought out, but Orchid is coming around already. Peony sits on the ground, cradling her sister in her arms. Orchid’s gaze is wild.

‘Did it just…’ she stammers, then her eyes find the creature. It looms over her, too, staring down into her face. Its neck is arched in a curve that suggests more snake than horse. ‘Did you just…’

Yes. Rest easy. It is done.

‘May I ask?’ Pine’s mother pushes forward. ‘Could you tell me what caused it? And is there a way for me to break such a thing, if I ever encounter it again?’

You do not have the strength, the creature says, but it is unlikely you will ever be needing it. The presence that had cast the curse has since departed from this land. Had that woman gone into the forest before the curse appeared?

‘Well, of course,’ Peony says. ‘We all go there often, to hunt, or gather roots or berries.’

Has she trapped any creatures there?

The girls exchange a glance.

‘You mean hares and the like?’

Not that. Has she caged any?

‘A bug?’ Orchid suggests uncertainly. ‘An interesting bug, she said.’

‘No, a spider,’ Peony says. ‘I think it was a spider. But that can’t be it, can it? Spiders are not magical.’

This one was, the being says, and there is much sadness in its voice. This was a witch’s child, a child of magic, turning into spider or man as the sun comes and goes. When he was caged, the confines killed him, and the witch cursed whoever had done it.

‘Who was she?’ Pine’s mother asks. ‘I never knew any such.’

You may not have met her. She was not human, but a spirit — a traveler like me. She left this land a long time ago, perhaps because it proved so perilous to her kind. I cannot sense any fresh traces of her, only the old tracks that remain.

‘She did not want to kill it, though,’ Orchid says quietly. ‘There was no need. She only wanted to show it to us because it was so oddly colored, so she put it in a jar. She would have let it go.’

The trap prevented him from turning into a man, as was required by his nature. That is what killed him.

‘But how could she have known?’

There was no way, the being speaks, and its voice is mild. Humans are often led into trouble by their very humanity, the good and the evil of it alike. I am no human, but I am imperfect also, and therefore I shall not judge you. This trouble of yours is over now. Learn from it, and walk free. Your mother is restored to you as you asked, and waits for you back home. The creature takes a step back, giving them more room. But you have only made one wish for the two of you. You can make another.

The two sisters exchange glances again, but they don’t seem to know what to ask. Magnolia looks at the others — Iris and Pine standing by the cart, Pine’s mother near the creature, Plum who holds Jade in her arms… Jade, who is crying into Plum’s shoulder, silently yet in such apparent grief that Magnolia can take it no longer.

She dashes towards Peony, and whispers something into her ear.

‘How?’ Peony asks, in obvious surprise. ‘What way is there, without causing conflict? And didn’t she just ask not to have that?’

‘There has to be a way!’ Magnolia grips their shoulders, searches their faces. ‘Just ask, and if there’s a way it will know, won’t it?’ She waves towards Jade. ‘Can’t you see — don’t you see her —’

‘You don’t even know if she wants it,’ Orchid says.

‘Well, you can ask about that, too, can’t you?’

Again the two sisters look at each other. Magnolia waits, her heart beating fast.

‘All right,’ Orchid says at last. ‘She did help us. We should at least offer, in case she does want it.’

She rises, and Peony with her, propping her up when her steps are unsteady.

You have decided on your other wish, the creature says. Speak, then.

‘We ask you,’ Orchid says, ‘to set the Princess free. If she so desires.’

Jade lets go of Plum as she turns around. Her eyes are red. She may not know that many words, but she can recognize her own title. Magnolia clasps her hands together, to still their trembling.

Do you wish to be free? the being asks of Jade, but its words are understood by all. Do you wish to be no longer what you are, but someone else? To walk a different road?

‘No, she does not!’ the Prince yells, jumping between the creature and the Princess. But it does not look at him, and Jade doesn’t appear to notice, either. The Prince stands on tiptoes to slam his fists into the creature’s chest. He is not the strongest of men, but there is enough passion in these hits to compensate for it, to hurt. Yet the creature stands unaffected. ‘She is to be my wife, to be queen with me! We have agreed! You cannot just take her away, you cannot — don’t just stand there, you fools, help me save your queen!’

But the moment the guards move to obey — uncertain though they seem as to what exactly is required — they are stuck to the ground, and cannot make one step more.

Do not fear, the creature tells them, as they stare in panic. You will be released, once it is decided.

‘Let them go, you filthy thief!’ The Prince hits it again. ‘Do you want us to have war, now? Don’t you understand there will be one, if you steal her? It was bad enough she had to pass through this bother of a country, and I was careful — I sent her great many guards to avoid exactly this! And here you come, taking her from us, shattering all we worked for… Don’t you understand what her people will do to us all if she disappears? Didn’t you just promise her peace? You promised, promised!..’

Your touch cannot harm me, the creature informs the Prince, and he steps back, breathing hard. And you have no need to worry yourself. Peace I have promised, and peace there shall be, regardless of her choice. But a choice she will make.

‘How can I not fight you,’ the Prince says feebly, sounding on the verge of tears. ‘How can I not, when you take her away… when we agreed…’

It is up to her, not you. Such was the wish, and I shall do what was asked of me. Still I have not heard from her. Its large, green eyes settle on Jade, on her face, puffy from the tears, and her thin shoulders, and bare feet showing from under the coverlet. You may speak your mind freely. I will find another to take your place, another who will be willing, the way you’ve never been. I know your heart. I know what you want. But you must say it to make it true.

The clouds still cover the sky, slate-grey and low, but it is as if a beam of light shines on Jade’s face when she speaks one word only — one of the very first words she learned in the tongue of this land —

‘Yes.’

Nothing much has changed, it seems, yet everything is shifted slightly, and Jade is amazed. The eyes of her Prince go out of focus for a short while, and when they return to alertness, he does not look at her once.

‘Mount,’ he says to his guards, ignoring the villagers completely. The creature is gone as if it had never been. ‘We must ride forward to meet my bride.’

He motions in the direction where they came from yesterday — where the border lies, and the village.

‘A bride, my lord?’ a guard asks, respectful yet still a little stunned.

‘Don’t you remember, man?’ The Prince casts him a disapproving glance. ‘The Princess Amethyst, the one promised to me. They say she is very eager to meet me, and I must say I am, too. A very lovely lady she is, they tell me. Intelligent, too. A great entertainer. We must not let her wait. Where is my carriage?’

Amethyst would be eager, Jade knows. The youngest of all the daughters, she never had much in the way of prospects. She would be overjoyed now if she is going to have this chance of becoming queen. And the Prince should be happy with her — or happier, at least, than he would have been with Jade.

He never looks at her as he climbs inside the carriage, never looks out of it as the procession rolls out of the yard and away through the hills. Jade stands there, shivering, still barefoot and with her coverlet.

For a moment, she is afraid to face the others. Will they recognize her, will they remember?.. Or will she be left alone in this world she does not understand? Has she just made a mistake? She never even asked for details, never made sure…

But then a hand touches her shoulder, and she turns to see Iris, smiling at her just as before.

‘Looks like you’re not a princess anymore,’ the girl says. ‘Now you can stay with us.’

This is when Jade feels tears welling in her eyes again, when she realizes the creature’s parting gift. No matter how hard she tried, she never managed to learn much of this language. But now all the words rings clear and comprehensible, so easy as if Jade has used them her entire life.

‘Hey!’ Peony steps in, lifting Jade’s hair out of her eyes. ‘Hey, don’t cry… We thought you wanted this. Didn’t you? What’s wrong?’

Jade shakes her head.

‘I’m fine,’ she manages to get out between gasps. ‘I’m well… I just never thought I could have this — that it could be over — never, never…’

They are all looking at her, all smiling at her and patting her arms, but it is Orchid’s stare that stands out to her.

‘I know what you mean,’ she says quietly, and Jade smiles back at her through the tears.

She has nothing now, and she knows it. Even the coverlet belongs to this tavern, and she leaves it on the fence. There is nothing she possesses apart from the nightdress and the ribbon in her half-undone hair. Pine’s mother settles by her in the carriage and takes out a comb.

‘You will have to make your own living, you understand,’ she says calmly, as she goes through Jade’s hair. The clouds above are receding. ‘It will not be easy. And you’d have to change your name, too. You cannot be Jade now — that’s a noble’s name.’

‘She has another,’ Plum cuts in. ‘Apple.’

‘Well, Apple it is, then,’ Pine’s mother says. ‘Unless you’d like a different one? No? All right. You have no home, of course, but we’ll see who might take you in. You can stay with us, I suppose, but there isn’t much space… Or in the tavern, if they are willing. Or with…’

She falls silent, and when Apple turns to see why, the witch is looking at Peony and Orchid. They are sitting straight as spruces, and seem very tense, but their eyes are shining.

‘We would have to ask her,’ Orchid says in a small, tight voice. ‘When we… I mean, if…’

‘I can’t do this,’ Peony interrupts, grabbing her sister’s arm. ‘I can’t take the wait! What if it lied — what if she’s not —’

‘You know it didn’t,’ Pine says soothingly. ‘She will be well. She’s there.’

And when they enter the village, with the evening sun covering it in gold, there is indeed a woman standing by the cottage, outside, as if she’s been waiting for them all this time. Orchid’s eyes are huge, and as she climbs out of the cart she moves slowly, dreamlike, still not quite believing. Peony jumps out first and rushes towards the woman, running right into her embrace. They hold each other tight, but then the woman looks up to stretch a hand towards Orchid, and with a strangled gasp, Orchid dashes to her, too. After this, Apple cannot really make them out from behind her tears.

‘You cry a lot,’ Iris notes. Apple wipes her eyes —

‘I’m sorry! I’m sorry I’m not…’

‘That’s not what I mean,’ Iris says. ‘Cry if you want to. We all do, sometimes. Just… I hope you can be happier now. It’s all over, whatever it was that you hated there. You are free of it now. They seem to have forgotten you. You can go where you want now, be what you want.’

‘Can I be your friend?’ Apple asks, and Iris laughs.

‘You are,’ Magnolia says to her. ‘You already are.’

‘You are one of us now,’ Plum adds.

The world around shines in the light of the setting sun, and the sky overhead is a deep, dark violet. Some sadness will always live in her heart, Apple knows, but at least for a time — however much there will be for her, in this changeable life of freedom — she can feel alive again.