Page 116 of The Filigree Key

“It’s a bit bright for my old eyes,” Cody groused, rubbing angrily at the tears spilling over their corners.

Emmett kindly handed him a handkerchief from his satchel.

“This is far enough,” I told Daphne, sweeping my fingers under my eyes to dry them one last time. “Sawyer and I can manage from here.”

“But you don’t need to, dear. Rest. Let me carry you a while yet.”

“You should all get to the farmhouse,” I urged. “It’s not safe.”

“Good thing there’s better safety in numbers,” Flora said. “Tallyho, Daph!”

Sawyer nuzzled me as something inside me unclenched at the generosity of my friends. I didn’t deserve them, but I was going to try to be worthy of them.

A minute later, Daphne stopped an arm’s length from the portal and swung her hindquarters around so she was parallel to the opal door. Shortened the distance so I wouldn’t have to take any unnecessary steps. If I really wanted to, I could simply lean over and insert the key into the lock from where I was seated on her back. The chain was certainly long enough for that.

This close, we could all hear the soft melody of the portal, the call to the immortal lands.

“Three days,” I murmured. “Three days until the winter solstice and Marten is locked away forever in the Unseelie Court.”

“Focus on finding the Samildánach, cider witch,” Flora said briskly. “We’ll take care of everything else.”

“And hide that sword,” Shari added.

I turned around to face them: Shari, Emmett, Cody, Flora, and Daphne. Despite the Caer powder, the illusions, and the lies, our friendships had always persevered. There was nothing left to say except, “Thank you, my friends.”

“Go on now, miss,” Emmett encouraged. He winked at Sawyer. “Y’all come back in one piece, hear?”

Smiling, I rocked forward to dismount when a battle cry splintered the night air.

On the moonlit hill behind us stood the Stag Man. He was covered in blood, and his jewel-bright eyes blazed like twin green stars. He threw his head back with another howl, antlers tearing across the sky, and became a blur as he bolted down the hill.

“He’s too fast,” Daphne whispered, quaking. “I’ll never make it to the farmhouse.”

And not a Coalition enforcer or a Hawthorne witch in sight.

There was only one option, but I wasn’t going to make the decision without them. “Come with me,” I cried.

“Like we have a choice?” Cody exclaimed.

“Do it!” Flora shouted.

I leaned over and shoved the filigree key home into the lock.

A ripple radiated from the lock as if the opal door were made of liquid instead of crystal. The lock and door disappeared entirely, the key dropping back against my stomach. From the other side of the archway, seemingly separated only by the thinnest gossamer veil or the film of a soap bubble, there was a breathy exhale from the immortal lands—that fresh air of a lush wildflower field on a crisp springtime night.

“Daphne!” Shari shrieked.

The mare surged forward.

My skin prickled and the hair rose on my arms as we passed through the archway. I took only a moment to breathe, the vibrant scents convincing me I truly was no longer in Redbud, before I flung myself from the horse.

Daphne’s rear hooves hadn’t even touched the ground, her tail still suspended between Elfame and Redbud, when I shoved my hand down into my boot. I threw the hickory nuts through the veil as I screamed the incantation and thrust out with the key.

Oh my Green Mother, let them work this time!

On the other side of the veil, Ossian was terrifyingly close. His jewel-bright eyes glowing green, the glow of the portal reflecting in his shiny antlers, his mouth open mid-roar, his body pitched mid-lunge as his fingers clawed after Daphne’s disappearing tail.

The hickory nuts took root at his feet, glowing green threads spearing into the ground like roots and racing up his legs like supercharged bean sprouts.