Island of Glass (The Guardians Trilogy #3)(102)

“It is for her to ask or not. Would you give up the moon, Riley Gwin, the change and the wolf?”

“I—” Everything inside her knotted. “It’s who I am. Doyle—”

“It’s who I love.” To cut her off, he gripped her hands. “You thought I meant to strike you down that night, the first change, after the battle. But I was struck. And began to change. Those eyes, ma faol. No, you give up nothing.”

“It’s who I am.” Content, Riley turned back to the queen. “Having the door open here, that’s a great gift to me. Thank you for it.”

“I would have been sorry if you’d chosen differently.”

As Aegle spoke, Riley saw the deer leaping over the path, the doe who came out of the woods, the woman holding a little girl on her hip, the rosy-cheeked maid who’d filled her bath.

“You’re a shapeshifter.”

“I am in all, of all. I was always with you. And you,” she said to Doyle. “Will you ask?”

“I have family again, and with them succeeded where I’d failed for three centuries. I have my wolf.”

“The dark marked you, giving you what some men seek, knowing it would bring you grief. Light can lift it. Would you cast away immortality?”

“It can’t be done. Even Bran—” Doyle caught the look in Bran’s eye. “It can?”

“I asked, and was shown. It can be done.”

“Hold on. Not for me,” Riley insisted. “And not on impulse. Dying’s no picnic, and—”

“Three centuries doesn’t qualify as impulse.” Hope, real hope brought a kind of pain.

Bittersweet.

“A life with you? A real one? Really living, knowing a day is precious and finite? It’s what I want. It’s more than I ever thought to have.”

“Then you must accept.” Aegle held out her hand. A servant rushed forward, gave her a glass goblet. “From your brother.”

Bran took the goblet, and a vial of clear liquid from his pocket. “This is the water of life, conjured of light. Its purity defeats the dark, breaks the curse.” He poured the water into the goblet. “If you choose to be mortal, drink.”

Doyle studied the water, thought of his life, the deaths, the battles, the long roads traveled alone.

He lifted the goblet to Bran, then to Sasha, to Annika and Sawyer in turn. And last to Riley.

To the love of his true life.

“I want a pack of kids,” he said, and drank.

“Wh— What?”

“You heard me.” He waited a beat. “I don’t feel any different.”

“Be glad you didn’t do a Nerezza and age three centuries. Define pack.”

“We’ll talk about it.” He turned to the queen. “The first girl of our pack will have your name. However many days I have from this night, I’ll be grateful.”

“Well matched. I see an adventurous life ahead. Blessings on all of you. A queen may reign with kindness and care, with wisdom and justice, people may prosper, but without those who will risk all to stand against evil, no world can flourish.”

There was music and feasting, wine and joy. The color of sweeping skirts, the sparkle of light. Late in the night, amid the celebration, the queen and her goddesses led the way to the beach.

Arianrhod held out the sword cased in a simple leather sheath. “This is yours.”

“Seriously?” Riley stared at it. “I’m allowed to take it?”

“It is yours.”

“She was our sister,” Luna said. “We will mourn what she might have been.”

“And grieve for what she chose to be,” Celene added. “And cherish what has come home. For Aegle, the radiant, the Fire Star.”

“For Aegle, the radiant, the Water Star.” Luna turned with her sister.

“For Aegle, the radiant, the Ice Star.” Arianrhod lifted her hand with the other goddesses. In them the stars whirled and pulsed.

And flew, streaking into the sky, leaving their trail of light on their journey to the moon. The people of Glass roared as the stars settled, a perfect curve, to shine.

“And there they will ever be, for all the worlds to see, to wonder, to hope.” Once more Aegle held out her hands. “Safe journeys, Guardians of Glass. The door will always be open for you.”

“Go in joy.” Celene crossed her hands over her heart.

“In love.” Luna laid a hand on hers.

“In peace.” Arianrhod tapped a fist on hers.

And Riley found herself standing with the others by the seawall of Bran’s home.

“Wow,” Sawyer managed. “That just happened.”

Laughing, still wearing the ball gown, Annika turned cartwheels over the lawn.

“Home again.” Bran drew Sasha close.

“And all’s well.”

“I have a magick sword.”

Doyle glanced down at Riley. “You’re going to need training.”

“Yeah, yeah, but I’ve got a magick sword.” She drew it, lifted it toward the sky. “And look.”

The sword glinted as it pointed to the three stars under the moon. “There they are. We did that. And what do you think astronomers are going to have to say about it?”