Chapter 29

B y the time Evelyn reached the small clearing in the woods where she estimated she'd find Coren's enchanted tree, her hands were slick with sweat, making it hard to keep ahold of her broom as her nerves rattled and her mind raced.

She pointed the handle of the broom downward and dove. Branches caught on her dress and tore through her hair as she swiped under the lower branches, and one sliced a cut along her forearm, though she hardly took notice of the pain or slight trickle of blood.

Her boots hit the ground and she stumbled to a stop, barely managing to keep from tumbling onto her face. As her vision oriented itself, she looked up through a mess of curls and found the doorway to Coren's garden flung wide, and a collection of his belongings gathered before it. Her stomach clenched as she took in the sight of the clearing. A fairy moss lantern illuminated Coren's cart, which stood piled with books and blankets, jars and jars of herbs, with more bundles tied to the sides and draping nearly to the forest floor. Around the cart, he'd arranged piles of clothing and pots and pans and dishes. It appeared that everything he owned spiraled out from the open doorway, forming rows and columns in a half-circle away from the trunk of the tree.

Nareen poked her silver-streaked face out and barked in greeting.

"Hush, Nareen," Coren said from somewhere inside the darkened doorway. A shadow stretched across the light from the lantern a moment before he came into view, his arms wrapped around a burlap sack.

Evelyn's hands flew up. "Coren, no!"

His head snapped toward her, and he stopped mid-stride, one boot hovering just above the forest floor. "Evelyn? What are you?—"

"Stop! Go back!" she shrieked, her heart ramming high enough in her throat to strangle her words. "Don't do this, Coren!"

He hesitated, his boot still quivering in the air, the toe a hair's breadth away from the other side. "Evelyn, it might be the only way?—"

"It's not! I have another way. Please, Coren, put it back!"

He held her gaze another long moment, then slowly shifted and threw the burlap sack onto the ground, just inside the doorway. Evelyn's gaze snagged on the roughly tied sack, willing it to stay closed, its contents contained.

Coren brushed off his hands and stood frozen in the doorway. "The soil is blessed by the Four, Evelyn. It's what you need to be able to break the curse. The elf told me it would work?—"

Evelyn bolted toward him and lunged into his arms, knocking him safely back a step from the open doorway.

Archie hooted somewhere overhead, having caught up. His small wings were no match for the speed of her broom. Nareen barked happily nearby.

Evelyn pressed her palms to Coren's cheeks, framing his face as she stared up at him with relieved tears in her eyes. "By the Four, Coren Thorneheart, have you gone mad? You can't give all of this up. This is your livelihood, your family's legacy—your home!"

He took her hands and slowly lowered them from his face to clasp between their chests. "I love you, Evelyn Rosewood, and if giving this up means saving you, it's a price I will willingly pay."

"Coren, after everything—the lies?—"

He kissed her palm. "I may not have known everything about you; stars, I still don't. But I know you , Evelyn. I've seen the way you've given so much to those in need, without any expectation or conditions. And after hearing about what your coven did—everything they took from you—" His voice broke. "You aren't alone, Evelyn. You don't have to keep it all together, or figure it all out on your own. Not anymore."

"I love you, too, Coren."

Tears streamed down her cheek, and Coren whisked them away with the pad of his thumb before leaning in to kiss her. For a moment, everything else faded. The curse and the cure, the crown and the coven, the past and the fear of the future. Gone. It was just her, and him, and the way it felt to be wrapped up and safe.

When they broke apart, her eyes stayed closed for a moment, not wanting the magic to break or fade. But when she opened them again, he was still there, smiling down at her, and she realized everything he'd said was true.

She wasn't alone.

"Please, Evelyn, let me do this for you," he said softly, still stroking her cheekbone, though the tears had stopped. "I can rebuild a cottage and a garden. Once the blight is gone, I could move closer to the village. And the shop, it doesn't have to just be a story. You could really do it!"

She shook her head, overwhelmed. As she took a tiny step backward, she considered the sprawling assortment of belongings. The books stacked on the cart were the ones she'd seen on the shelves, the ones written in fairy language, that had once belonged to his grandmother.

"How does this even work?" she asked, spinning back around to face him. "If you can't take things from fairy, how does your business work?"

"I can take the plants, because the seeds didn't come from the fairy realm. The same with my belongings and building materials. Anything I bring through the doorway is safe to leave again, but the soil—" Coren rubbed the back of his neck. "Little bits don't seem to matter. I think intent must play some part in it, as I'm sure Nareen's paws and my boots track some in and out all the time, but I wash everything and clip all the roots off the plants before I take them out, just in case."

Evelyn stared at the burlap sack—at the soil he'd meant to take through the doorway.

"You said you found another way?" Coren prompted.

With a nod, she reached down the front of her dress and wrapped her fingers around the tiny vial strung on the chain. She held it up, and the glow of the fairy moss lantern set the golden potion to sparkling.

She gave him a teary smile. "All we need is a drop of fortune."

"You know, you could have saved a whole heap of trouble if you'd mentioned carrying a dragon's tear around your neck!" Trudy said with a salty harrumph .

"How was she supposed to know it could be used for something like this?" Archie said, coming to Evelyn's immediate defense.

Of those gathered, he was the only one who could match the ire in Trudy's sharp stare.

"It's a luck potion!" Trudy fired back. "Seems like it might have been worth a try, even if you didn't realize the main ingredient was a curse breaker in its own right."

Sio cleared her throat and Maeve tried to rein the elf back in. "Let's let Evelyn work," she said, placing one hand on the shorter woman's shoulder.

Evelyn sighed. "All of the examples my mother gave me were on a far less dire scale than a fairy curse afflicting an entire town. She said every Rosewood witch got one drop of fortune, and that I'd best choose it wisely. She told me she'd used hers before going on an expedition into the Bramblefell mountains, to find some pewter-horned grubs. The winter was especially harsh that year, and she worried her team of foragers would need some extra luck on their side, and not only did they make it there and back again, but they gathered enough grubs to set a record in the coven! My mother's mother used her drop of fortune before her wedding day, and she had a blessed marriage. Another used hers before the final test she needed to pass to become a healer's apprentice. They were all big, important matters at the time, but surely we can agree those examples all feel a bit small when compared to something like an ancient fairy curse. "

Trudy's lips pinched together, but she offered no further admonishment.

"However, I owe you my gratitude," Evelyn told the woman, in earnest. "I wouldn't have known there was a connection between a dragon's tear and fairy magic without your help."

This seemed to quell the elf-woman's lingering frustration, and her expression softened. "By the time you reach my age, you'll be amazed by all the mismatched bits of knowledge you've stored away, like an over-eager squirrel storing up for winter. Now, let's get to the potion work. It'll be time to open the bait shop soon."

Maeve snorted. "Quite a set of priorities you've got there, Trudy."

It was Trudy herself who had suggested waiting until morning, as she declared it would be best to apply the dragon's tear—by way of the fortune potion—directly to the afflicted soil, rather than through the plots in the back garden. None of them thought it would be wise to go out to the orchards at night, uninvited, lest some farmer assume they were there to steal what little fruit was managing to grow, and set their dogs on them.

It had been a restless night, and Evelyn was equal parts anxious and fearful as they'd gathered and made their way to the farming village in a quiet procession just after dawn.

Behind them, Lorcan shuffled from foot to foot, wringing his large hands together. "I don't mean to add to the rush, Evelyn, but Roisin will have my hide if I'm not back to the docks soon."

Maeve cut the goblinkin a wicked grin over her slim shoulder. "I thought you wanted her to have your hide."

Sio buried her face in one hand, while Erwin's face flickered from a look of confusion to pink-tinged understanding of the lewd comment.

"Enough!" Trudy snapped. "Evelyn needs quiet."

"Then she probably shouldn't have invited all of us along to watch," Sio muttered, earning her a quick jab of an elbow from Maeve.

Evelyn ignored the chatter and lifted the chain from around her neck. The single golden drop sat at the bottom of the vial, glowing in the morning sun.

"You're sure about this?" Coren asked quietly, his hand resting on her lower back.

She looked up and met his eyes before inclining her head. "It's what she would have wanted."

Her eyes fell closed as she wrapped her fingers around the vial, the image of her mother's smiling face filling her mind. The memory was starting to fade a bit at the edges, and there were times she panicked upon realizing she couldn't quite recall the sound of her mother's voice or laughter.

But she knew her mother did not live inside the fluted vial, nor was she preserved within the single remaining drop of a potion brewed decades upon decades ago .

"Go on, child," Trudy said, her tone softer than Evelyn had ever heard it.

Evelyn swallowed and dug her thumbnail into the tiny cork stopper. When it was free, she lifted the vial to the sunlight, whispered a prayer to Caele, then opened her eyes just in time to watch the golden drop fall to the earth below the tree.

A moment stretched, and Evelyn did not so much as dare to exhale. Swirls of nervous energy stirred at her back, but she kept her eyes trained on the soil. Then, all at once, the tree trunk glowed as golden as the potion itself. The dried bark, so black it looked like ashes, fell away as the magic surged through the tree, and everywhere it traced, the branches burst with color. Tiny petals unfurled along the once barren branches, only to fall just as quickly as they'd appeared, and green leaves took their place. The fruit came last. Bright red plums, as big as Evelyn's fist, sprouted up and down every branch, until the branches sagged under the sudden weight of the crop.

Evelyn recoiled, her hands flying to cover her mouth, which burst open with a startled laugh. The others cheered and gasped, some moving closer while others jumped back, shocked by the sudden appearance.

"You did it!" Maeve shouted, bounding over to grab Evelyn and grip her in a hug so tight she felt her ribs groan. "You did it, Evelyn!"

Sio peeled Maeve away just as Evelyn began to see stars at the edges of her vision, and offered her an approving nod. "Well done, Evelyn."

Erwin hopped up and down, trying to grab a glittering plum from the branch above his head. Lorcan reached over and held it down so he could reach, and the boy flashed a shy smile before taking a huge bite, then offered a second fruit to the goblinkin. "It tastes delicious!" Erwin exclaimed, his mouth stained with red juice as he smiled at Evelyn.

The tree beside the first sprouted to life, and then the next, and the one after. Even those whose branches and bark had not yet fully turned gray and ashen burst with new life and a bounty of fruit. All around them the orchard came back to life.

Coren gathered her into his arms and kissed her, and the surge of emotions washed over her like one of the sneaking waves along the shore, but this time she did not try to fight her way free.

Her mother was smiling at her through the veil, and as she squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her face into Coren's solid chest, she thought she heard her mother's voice telling her she was so proud.

"Oi! You there—" a man shouted in the distance.

Evelyn looked up, and spun away from Coren to find a red-faced farmer barreling toward them through the rows of trees, a rusted shovel brandished in his gloved hands. "This here is private property, and you'll not be?—"

The man stopped short with a startled grunt as a branch laden with plums sagged low enough to hit him in the head. "What in the nine kingdoms?!"

"The blight is gone!" Maeve cheered. "Thanks to Evelyn Rosewood, a Sister of the most gracious Caele!"

More farmers came running over to see what all the commotion was about, only to be rendered speechless as the orchard continued to shift and transform. The cure spread across the dirt road, and rows of barren and gnarled apple trees sprouted leaves, then blossoms, and finally fruit. Shining and firm with juice. Some of the produce fell to the ground, and rolled around, making for a bit of a mess as others ran to join the mayhem, though no one seemed to mind their sticky boots.

Word quickly spread as newcomers arrived to inspect the growth for themselves, and it didn't take long before folks showed up with wagons and large baskets to collect the fruit that had fallen from the branches. Lenora and little Brodie arrived, and Lenora quickly ordered the boy to begin helping round up the apples and plums. Others reported their farms were suddenly green with the stems of carrots and strings of peas and beans, their berry bushes filled with fruit so shiny they looked like garnets under the sunlight.

"Evelyn, this was your doing?" Lenora asked, smiling with astonishment as the others retold the story for the newcomers.

"That's right!" Maeve crowed, clapping Evelyn on the back. "Now, let this prove some good comes from Sailcloth Row!" She laughed at her own joke, and the others couldn't help but join in, though Sio looked a bit embarrassed.

Lenora embraced Evelyn. "Aren't you just a treasure?" Then, turning to the others, she raised her voice and let a little stern warning seep through her motherly tone. "Now, I hope that this means there won't be any further naysaying about witch magic." She paused, eyeing some in the crowd with special attention, before finding her gentle smile once more. "I've heard the whispers, and this ought to put a stop to it. Or else, I will!"

Everyone let out a rousing uproar of support and applause, and Evelyn smiled, almost wishing she could be there to see the look on Jarvis's face when the news reached him.

She quickly pushed the thought away, choosing instead to allow herself a full day of celebration before trying to figure out what to do about those who might yet stand against her.

Lenora led the way through the farmlands, and noted that it wasn't just the people who were happy with the turn of events. The animals were grateful, too, as their pastures sprouted tall green grass. Lenora's own goats happily rose to their hind legs to reach the verdant green leaves of the cherry tree planted at the corner of their pen. The mild-mannered animals bleated as Evelyn paused to scratch their heads and hindquarters, as though offering their own hearty appreciation .

Eventually, they circled back through the village to the orchard where they'd started, and found dozens of people working to assess the trees and pick what could already be harvested. The apples and pears were not yet ready, despite the dozen or so that had already fallen to the ground, but the peaches and sticky plums were ripe and ready. Farmers on horseback came in to report the vineyard, some distance out, was bursting with grapes. This declaration may have drawn the most whoops and hollers.

Lorcan asked if he could take two of the peaches with him as he prepared to return to the docks, explaining he'd heard Roisin say they were her favorite. He wandered off, whistling a lively tune, the fruits clasped gently in his enormous hands. Erwin seemed in no hurry to return to his own work, and was instead chatting with three of the farmers, all of whom were gesturing at the fence where it opened to the dirt road to allow for carts and wagons to pass through.

"Evelyn!" he called when he spotted her watching. "Come here, will you. Uh, please?"

Coren followed closely as she joined the circle.

"They've asked me to make a sign for the orchard," Erwin said excitedly.

Evelyn smiled. "That's great! You'll do a wonderful job."

"They want to know if it's okay to name the orchard after you," the boy added, glancing at the others, who nodded in confirmation.

"After me?"

The oldest of the farmers, a man Evelyn recognized but could not name, wiped the sheen of sweat from his brow. "We were going to have to leave Shieglas before winter," he explained. "My whole family. We've owned this land for over a century, back when the harbor only saw three or four boats in a month! We didn't want to leave, of course, but we didn't think we had a choice, and now, because of you, we can stay. There isn't a way for us to tell you how much it means to us, but we thought perhaps we could commission a sign from the boy, and dedicate it to you. Or to Caele! If that would be more proper." He paused, glancing at the others.

Clasping the empty vial around her neck, Evelyn smiled through a haze of fresh tears. "If it's not too much trouble, could you name it after my mother, instead? Her name was Branwen."

"Yes! Anything you want. We'll mount it right at the front, so everyone passing by can see and know this is Branwen's orchard."

Emotion swelled in Evelyn's throat, and it was all she could do to give the eager farmers a grateful nod, her hands pressed together before her chest as she bowed slightly.

Coren squeezed her into his side and dropped a kiss to her temple. "I'd say it has quite a nice ring to it."