The green flames were gone by morning. The bog looked no worse for wear with their passing; they'd burned nothing, and no bodies of Wights scattered the unmarked peat. Made mostly of energy, they had no bodies to leave behind. The only sign of the events of the night before was a line of whitish residue down the middle of the bog. Daphne scooped a little of this up and ran some tests on it in her makeshift field laboratory. She declared the substance safe.

With the Wights dispersed back into the forest, the bog's mist too burned off when the sun rose, soaking the ground with its warm, liquid rays. Bella turned away from the forest's edge. A quick flight through the trees brought her back to Daphne's new camp, camouflaged in a dense part of the forest. Daphne was in the final stages of packing up. Titus was nowhere to be seen.

"He went to test the Wight-lure again," said Daphne, seeing Bella looking around. "I tried to make a neutralizing potion for it, and we think it worked."

"Good," said Bella. "We probably don't want Wights following us back to Hyacinth if you're telling your grandparents you spent Wightnight in Solanum."

Daphne nearly dropped her bag as she blanched. "Oh no."

"You didn't tell them?"

"No, I—Lark sent a letter and covered for me, but—" She fumbled for her bag, stuffing things into it with panic-stricken hands. "Oh no, oh no, oh no."

"I can't help if I don't know what's wrong."

"I won't be back when I said I would be. Lark will worry, too. She'll have to tell my grandparents, and they'll know I was—I didn't want to lie to them, but—"

Bella sighed and landed on the backpack, blocking Daphne's hands and commanding her attention. "Tell me what to tell them, and I'll fly back," she said. "I can be there by this afternoon. It's a lot faster than walking."

Daphne stopped, halfway through bundling dirty clothing. "Would you?"

"Just tell me what to say."

"I can write a letter, but I don't—what do I tell them?"

That was a good question. "You'll have to tell them the truth eventually, if you... if you're planning to press charges. You can tell them I asked for your help."

"Then you might get in trouble."

"Would you rather get in trouble yourself?"

Daphne dropped her gaze. "No."

"Then let me do it. You can say... that I pushed you into it."

"No." Daphne's voice went sharp. "I'm not lying that far. I'll tell them I wanted to help you."

"You don't need to."

"Then I'll tell them I wanted to help Titus." Daphne crossed her arms and stared Bella down with all the stubbornness of teenhood. "He was nicer about it."

"Fine. You wanted to help Titus, then. Do you want help writing the letter?"

Daphne's posture wilted. "Could you?"

"Get a pen and paper. We can do this together."

Daphne was still a kid, after all. She could use a little coaching. By the time Titus got back—Wight-free—the pair of them had drafted a decent list of notes for the letter, and Daphne was working on a draft copy for Bella's review. Titus cocked his head at both of them, got the overview, and added himself to the effort. He seemed to have a talent for reading how words would be interpreted by the receiving party.

Another hour of teamwork later, Bella was fitted with two letters on a string about her neck. She bade her companions goodbye and took off on aching wings, taking care to mask how little she wanted to do more flying. She'd earned herself this. The wind, at least, was in her favor. Bella let herself coast, trying to enjoy the view to take her mind off the events that would ensue once Daphne got back to Hyacinth. Maybe Bryony would be there. Bella hoped not. This would only get harder if she was, and she would worry for Daphne and Titus's safety. Better to get a message to the Covens in Nerium before Bryony showed her face again.

They would question her as a familiar, Bella knew. She spent the rest of the flight home turning over what she could even say. The urge to excuse Bryony remained nearly overwhelming. Bryony had been grieving. Surely some grace was due. Yet with each iteration of that thought came the memory of screaming Wights, their lights blinking out one by one amidst soundless green fire. Bella shook her head violently to clear it, nearly knocking herself from the sky. She could not forget that image, and would probably do well not to. She would be asked to testify against her keeper. Whether she herself would get off without a sentence would likely depend on how much she was willing to tell. How much farther she betrayed Bryony.

Would Bryony ever take her back, after serving whatever sentence came down to her? She'd almost certainly lose her Witchcraft license. Maybe even spend time behind bars, or in community service somewhere outside Hyacinth. Would she need someone to look after her house for her? Would she let Bella do that, while Bryony herself came to terms with what she'd done?

Would Bryony try to smear Daphne's name in order to overturn her own conviction? The thought brought protective instinct welling up through Bella's body, a sentiment she'd never had before the events of last night, or maybe just never listened to. Now it was the image of Bryony threatening Titus that prevailed. If that was how Bryony could treat a familiar who'd lived with her for years, what might she be willing to attempt against a Witch she already saw as local competition at best, a malicious enemy at worst? Daphne had acted in good faith all through her investigation. The same could not be said for Bryony. Bella's heart ached with it.

And then the wispy smoke of Solanum's chimneys was ahead of her. Bella spiraled down to deliver her first letter, penned hastily by Daphne when she realized Lark might be the one to declare her missing if she failed to return on time. Landing on the house's windowsill as instructed, Bella tapped the glass until a stout, dark-skinned girl about Daphne's age came to open it. At least Lark was another Witch in training. She'd understand familiars.

"I can't stay long," said Bella, handing over the first letter. "Daphne wanted me to give this to you before you worried."

"Too late for that," huffed Lark. "I've been waiting for her all morning. What's she—"

She opened the letter and set to skimming it, eyes darting back and forth with the speed of an experienced reader. An astonished murmur escaped her.

"Really?" she said, looking back at Bella. "This actually happened?"

Bella nodded grimly.

Lark read the letter again, then said, "Thank you. Are you going to tell her grandparents?"

Bella tapped the second letter with her beak. "On my way."

"You should go, then. They'll be worrying already, too."

Bella thanked her and took her leave. After the distance to the bog, the flight to Hyacinth was much too short for how little she wanted to be back there. She stopped by Daphne's house first, thankful for once that neither of the young Witch's grandparents were Witches themselves. It saved her having to talk to them. Still, that wasn't quite fair, so she stayed long enough for them to read the letter and ask questions that could be answered with nods or head-shakes—mostly confirming that Daphne was safe, in company, and on her way home. Bella was glad Titus had stayed with her. Especially after feeling how hard he could claw.

When the elderly couple had exhausted their questions, Bella excused herself with a polite nod and extracted herself from the conversation. The outside air was a cool relief after another stint of anxiety. Bella let herself more drift than fly back through the town to Bryony's house. Her heart twisted with mixed hope and dread as she ducked through the crow-door, but the house was empty. Nothing had moved since she'd left with Daphne and Titus days ago. Bryony had not come home again.

The smell of home—even empty—brought everything tumbling down. Bella landed on Bryony's bed, where she curled up with her head under one wing, a fruitless attempt to stem the pain of grief. She would be here for the next two days, until Daphne and Titus returned. Longer if it took them a while to find walking company at Aes's rest-stop so they wouldn't make the final leg of their journey alone. Bella would have the house to herself, and it suddenly felt so wrong, she nearly got up and left again. But she'd said it herself: she had nowhere else to go.

Two days. She could fend for herself until then; she knew how to open the food cupboard, and Bryony had left enough water to last her and Titus more than a week. There were sources and people outside if she ran out before then. Less easily mended was the house's emptiness, which yawned wide around her every time she lifted her head. She hid it again.

Two days, and then Titus and Daphne would be home. They could figure it out then.

A/N: Hi friends! Given recent changes Wattpad has been making, this will be one of the last books I post on this site. If you want to keep in touch, learn when I move to other platforms, or get insider updates on my publishing journey, sign up for my newsletter—link in the comments, or in my Wattpad bio if you can't click it here!