When Feyla was a little girl, one too small to understand why her parents were yelling or why they no longer lived with her father and brother, her mother would wake her every morning by brushing her fingers down her tangled hair and whispering, "It's time to wake up, my treasure. Open your eyes, lovey." And Feyla would squint her too-large eyes shut, demanding a kiss and hug before moving further. It was a fond memory of a time when she had felt treasured, but not like a treasure.

To see its corruption play out struck at some secret place inside her soul.

"Lovey, wake up. Wake now for me, daughter."

Feyla's eyelids stuck closed. She pried them open slowly. Something hummed in her ears while a red light dug its way under her eyelids and into her skull. Her mother's face hovered above her, framed by a halo of red magic.

It all came back.

Feyla jerked away, but the chains on her wrist had been secured to one of the stone pillars surrounding the inner courtyard. Her breath escaped in shallow gasps that did nothing to calm her pounding heart. "Let me go!" she screamed. Where was Sedgewick? Was he safe? Had Arilla made him forget her again?

"Stop this!" Arilla snapped back. Then her sneer softened as she cradled Feyla's face between her hands. "Why must you fight me so?" Her mother's eyes swam with tears. One might have thought that Feyla had chained her up instead of the reverse. "Don't you see what he will do to you? What he already has? Lovey, I believe that you love him. I was in love once too, and I know—" Her mother's voice broke. "I know how it can consume you until everything else seems unimportant. But I'm not your villain. Don't I deserve your love too? Can't you trust me as you once did?"

Feyla was shaking now, tears of her own pouring down her face while the cold bite of the cuffs dug into her wrists. She shook her head in the smallest of no's.

Arilla's hands dropped. "I won't watch my daughter repeat my mistakes. He's blinded you. Making you forget him wouldn't be enough. But don't worry. Once Carrow's spell is cast, then you'll be fixed. You will see him as I see him."

Fear of a kind she had never known before grew throughout her chest like a vine, choking her breath and squeezing her insides. No. "Mother, please, you can't take him from me! I know you're scared. And you want to hang on and try to fix everything. But this doesn't need fixing. He's not like Father. He's good and smart and sweet and he respects me. You don't know him like I do!"

"I know all that I need to know. When you're a mother someday, you'll understand." Arilla walked further into the courtyard without another word.

Feyla went slack against the chains. Throaty, ugly sobs escaped her throat. She jerked at her bonds violently, ignoring the jarring pain it sent down her arms and screamed at her mother. Arilla ignored her, choosing to whisper a few words to Desden Carrow instead. The wizard stood beside the largest runs disc Feyla had ever seen. His hired men were scattered about the room, glancing nervously over their shoulders. Black magic tinged with Desden's natural red flowed into the disc from his fingertips. Sweat coalesced on his brow, but he didn't stop. Not even when he tilted his head toward her in a victorious smile. A reminder of the deal she hadn't taken.

"Yelling won't work," a male voice said from behind her. Feyla twisted around to find someone chained to the opposite side of the pillar.

"Reiden?" she asked, her throat raw from screaming.

"That's not my name," he shot back. His voice practically growled.

"Dormaeus," Feyla breathed.

"Healer."

"Not anymore."

Dormaeus remained quiet for a moment. "You should have let the crown kill me. I wanted them to kill me..."

Feyla felt Dormaeus's chains tighten as his weight fell against them. Desden's words fell into place again...

"He consented to the treatment!"

"Did he?"

"Why?" she asked him in a hoarse whisper.

"I killed the woman I loved. The only person who thought I could be better than I was. What would make me deserve death more?"

"You remembered?"

"No. I don't think I could cope with having to relive... But I pieced together enough." He twisted, wincing at the pain it brought to his wrists. Feyla drew closer as well and saw he was looking at...

His brother.

"You remember him," she said.

"Yes."

Then why keep him trapped? Feyla frowned. Dormaeus's half-recalled crime. Sedgewick's frantic words about the spell. Her mother's threats. Desden's obsession with "fixing everything".

The threads connected. Everything wove seamlessly into a tapestry of tragedy, sin, family, and black magic.

Her chains bite her again when she jerked herself forward. Desden's eyes left his spell for just a moment, but it was enough. Their gazes locked the same way they had when the two had first fought. I understand you, Feyla whispered wordlessly.

A child-like fear writhed behind Desden Carrow's eyes. His sin lay exposed at her feet. "I know you," she mouthed to him.

Carrow curled into himself, doubling the magic he poured into the nearly-filled disc.

That was when she felt a hand at her wrists. Feyla jerked her head up to see Mydel clinging onto the pillar for dear life while levitating a key into the lock at the cuffs. He shushed her rising questions and jerked his chin up. Sandrina leaned out a window above, her hands alight in a lavender glow. Feyla traced the shimmer down to where it ended just below Mydel. An illusion spell. And if Sandrina and Mydel were out then that meant...

One of the doors to the courtyard blasted open in answer.

Sedgewick strolled into the room, his orange mage's hat firmly back on his head. Magic sparked at the tips of his fingers. "I've come to renegotiate our arrangement, Carrow."

Desden didn't turn from the disc he was still filling. "There is no arrangement. I'm done with you."

"I want the Everbloom girl. And I'm not entirely sure that I approve of you using my spell anymore."

"She's not yours to claim!" Arilla shouted. "And she never will be."

Desden Carrow's jaw twitched. At that moment, several things happened a once. Desden's men charged at Sedgewick, knives glinting in the torchlight. Desden's hands pulsed, filling up the last part of the disc's magic.

And Feyla's cuffs clicked open above her head.

She was off in a flash, ducking under the swing of a club from one of the men. Her hand met his neck and he crumpled under her grip. Sandrina's and Mydel's magic flared about the room now, creating a kaleidoscope of colors.

Desden's eyes rolled shut. His hands lifted to trigger the spell that would kill the bond she held most dear. I know you. Everything around her slowed. From the corners of her eyes, she could see Desden's hired men starting to flee in the face of the mage's magic. Daydrel's white shadow crept into view but he wouldn't touch her, not yet, not before—

She slammed into Desden's side.

The two of them rolled to the ground in a familiar heap. Desden trapped her beneath him. His fist glowed red and black, summoning a strike.

"I understand you," Feyla whispered.

The blow sputtered out. Sounds of fighting halted. An orange ward swam to life in from of her seconds later.

"I'm beginning to recall this happening before and it is not a recollection I'd like repeated!" Sedgewick yelled.

Feyla and Desden ignored him. "You know nothing," he snarled.

Feyla grasped the clasped of his tattered black cloak. "I know you. I was you."

"Release my daughter, wizard!" Arilla ordered. Feyla could hear her close by but she didn't tear her attention from Desden.

"I agree with the woman in white," said Sedgewick. "Let her go or I'll blast you in the back and let the ground drink your blood."

"No one touches my brother." Dormaeus's voice no longer came from where he had been trapped to the pillar. He sounded closer to Sedgewick now. Feyla didn't need to look to imagine the stand-off the two much be locked in.

Desden's eyes flickered away from her own. Just long enough for a pained glimpse at the brother who defended him despite Desden trapping him.

"He's not going to kill me," Feyla said, stifling the waver in her voice. Then, gently, she pushed up against his chest. His weight lifted off her. She didn't turn away, treating him like a startled, wild animal who might flee at the slightest harsh movement. "Desden... Dormaeus wasn't the one who killed Laryssa. Was he?"

Something broke on the boy's face. Someone gasped, then a hush fell over the courtyard. "He... I—I didn't mean..." His head flicked between Feyla and his brother while his shoulders curled into his cloak like a terrified bird. "Spell got out of control, and she wasn't supposed to still be inside!"

Desden shoved her away, staggering to his feet. Three spells sparked to life in three mage's hands.

"Wait!" Feyla bolted up as well, throwing herself in the future path of the spells "Don't."

"Are you out of your senses?" Sedgewick glared at her incredulously.

Trust me, she pleaded silently, hoping he remembered her enough to read here. She took a slow, half-step closer to Desden.

Desden's chest heaved in gasps approaching panic. His dark eyes rolled in his head staring at everything and everyone except his brother. "Doesn't...doesn't matter. People are memories. They're what everyone thinks about them." Desden's hand met the disc. "Now I control that. When I'm done no one will remember what really happened to Laryssa." He finally stared at Dormaeus, ears slicked back, teeth bared in rage, throat contracting painfully. "And you won't hate me. And you won't leave me. And everything will be fixed."

Dormaeus shook his head. His shoulders were back, held like a man who knew exactly who he was and who wasn't afraid to face it. "I never hated you, Des."

"You sent me away! You stuck me in that awful place alone! We're the Carrow Brothers. The future greatest wizards in Abreyla. We should be together."

"I left because it was my fault. I shouldn't have let you be the distraction. Gates, I shouldn't have thought I could take care of you in the first place!"

Feyla was beside him now. She didn't touch him. Not while he shook like he might shatter. "You can't fix what everyone thinks, Desden. Not about Laryssa and especially not about you. You'll only hurt yourself and the ones who already believed the best."

His hand drifted from the disc. Feyla caught it in her own. "Your brother loves you enough that he took the blame for you. But you have to stop trying to change other people. It won't make the ones who don't start loving you. And it won't help the ones that already do. You're not a wizard, Desden. No more than I am a battle healer. We're just two people who want our families to love us." Feyla caught sight of Arilla, her face twisted in confusion. "But yours already does."

Desden did flee then. But not from fear. Instead, he ran like a child straight to his older brother, and the two collapsed into sobs. "I'm sorry..." Dormaeus answered him in a whisper and Desden whimpered again.

Feyla exhaled slowly, a life-long weight slipping from her shoulders.

"That's it?" Arilla asked. Her voice had a chill Feyla hadn't heard since the day her mother had left her father. "You're giving up? After all this?"

Desden didn't hear her, still cocooned in tears and forgiveness.

"It's over, Arilla," Feyla spoke. Her voice held a steel she'd never used with the woman who had birthed her.

"No, it is not," Arilla released the final word with a crispness that echoed about the room. "Daydrel!"

Daydrel jerked her away from the disc. She squirmed and struggled against his grip to release the single hand or knee she needed to break free. "Stop fighting," he barked in her ear. "Just let her get it over with. Would it be so bad to be mine again?" he asked. His voice lifted in that entitled tone that she used to mistake for confidence while his hand skimmed possessively under the swell of her breasts before dipping inappropriately low.

Her mother had reached the disc. The magic was filled, all she needed to do was trigger it. Feyla writhed desperately, bile rising in her throat until a blast of magic sent her ears ringing.

A blast followed by the sick sound of magic sinking into flesh. Daydrel let out an empty scream before his grip on her went slack. Feyla let him fall even as blood splattered against her borrowed shirt. He hit the ground like the dead.

She stared down at Daydrel's lifeless form. Her brow furrowed in confusion before she cast her gaze up to the source of the blast. Sedgewick stood there, his hand still glowing from the blow. "GO!" he shouted, although the ringing kept her from hearing the words.

There was no time to absorb it. Feyla swerved. The room hummed around her and the sound grew in her ears before popping into a crescendo. She launched a strike at her mother. Then another. And another.

Arilla staggered back, barely blocking Feyla's rapid-fire strikes. Her lips curled before she jabbed a blow of her own at Feyla's neck. "You treacherous, ungrateful child."

Feyla caught Arilla's hand and twisted it. The older woman let out a cry. "I am done trying to change you! Why can't you stop trying to change me?" Feyla asked, pleading one final time.

Rage twisted Arilla's previously lovely features. The sound that clawed free of her throat was feral and uncontrolled. Strands of her perfect bun escaped, flying about her face in a sweaty curtain. "You are my child and I'll mold you as I wish." She tried to wrench free, but Feyla held fast, locking the two women in a vicious tug-of-war.

The disc rose before them. Shouts from friends and enemies alike grew closer. Arilla launched herself at the disc but Feyla held tight, twisting until their feet caught on each other's. They fell hard against the base of the rune disc.

Feyla's skull smacked into essantium. The disc hit the stone below it with a dangerous crack. A hiss vibrated near Feyla's ear. She jerked the opposite direction just before a shot of black magic escaped through a crack. Arilla screamed in pain, clutching her face from a similar blow. She bared her teeth at Feyla, her eyes stained with hateful tears and nothing left of the woman who had raised her.

Arilla lunged at her and Feyla's final hit landed.

Sedgewick jerked Feyla off of the disc fast enough to hurt. Arilla's unconscious form hit the ground beside it. Her breath returning, and the moment slowing, Feyla shook in his arms, uncaring who might see her fears and failures. Desden's hired men had all been driven off now, and the others began picking their way closer. The disc at their feet held several large cracks that fractured the delicately carve runes on the surface. Sedgewick's eyes went nearly as large as his glasses. He clutched her to his chest, backing away. "We need to get out."

While the cracks slowed it, dark, burning lines of magic were sweeping through the veins of the disc. Arilla had triggered the spell. "No," Feyla whispered. She whirled around to Sedgewick. "You can stop it. You have to, please! I...I can't do it. I won't live a life not loving you."

"We can't stop something broken like that." Mydel's voice shook. "Can we?"

Sedgewick clasped her hands in his own, tracing her skin like he could learn her by touch. "I'm glad I remembered you, Dearest. If only for a while."

Feyla shook her head frantically. "There has to be something. We could get out of range—"

"We won't get far enough," Sandrina said darkly.

"We could break it more."

All eyes fell to Desden. The young wizard stared down at his abandoned creation. "I could break it more."

"Then the black magic would escape before the spell was triggered," Mydel realized.

Sedgewick gave a sharp, negative jerk of his chin. "With that much energy releasing, the blast, the pieces of disc would—"

"Get out," Desden ordered.

"Desden, you can't," Feyla pleaded. "We'll figure something else out."

Sandrina grabbed Mydel by the collar and shoved him violently toward the door. Another crackle of magic escaped through the disc. "If the wizard wants to, then let him."

"I'll stay with him," Dormaeus said softly. He squeezed his brother's shoulder. Tears collected in Desden's eyes. "I'm not leaving him again."

Sedgewick nodded grimly. He began tugging Feyla away.

"We can't just—"

"It's okay, Feyla." Desden smiled at her for the first time, and she didn't see a wizard. Or a boy. She saw a young man who had just grown enough to own his mistakes.

Her fight fled as Sedgewick tugged at her again. Feyla's foot brushes against Arilla. Asleep, she looked more like the woman who had raised her. "My mother, I can't..."

Sedgewick growled in the back of his throat. Arilla's cloak lit up orange and lifted from the ground, cradling her like a hammock. The disc crackled again, another flash of black magic blasting upward.

"You have until I reach fifty!" Dormaeus warned. He grabbed Sedgewick's hand and pressed a small piece of cloth into it. "Tell her I'm sorry. Now go!" he shouted at Feyla. This time she listened.

Ten.

They were alone now. Just him and the little brother he couldn't protect. "Des..."

"I'm sorry!" he cried out, grabbing his shirt. "I'm so sorry..."

Twenty.

"I never blamed you." He stroked his brother's messy brown hair gently.

"When you left me, I thought it meant you loved her more."

"I loved you both. I just didn't want you to end up like me." He held him tightly. Finally, after all that time in a memory-less blur, he knew who he was. Who he loved.

Two more blasts escaped. The magic had almost reached the edges of the disc. Thirty.

"Dormaeus, I have to."

"I know. One more moment." Forty.

"You don't need to stay."

Dormaeus smiled. "We're the Carrow Brothers. We stick together."

Then, as one, they fired at the disc.

Feyla and Sedgewick didn't stop running. Sedgewick counted under his breath, reaching fifty right as they burst through the door into the gardens. They weaved around benches and bushes. Had she made a mistake? Would Desden let the spell trigger after all?

The wind from the explosion hit before the heat did.

Sedgewick tackled her to the ground before the force of the blast could knock her off her feet. He released the levitation spell on Arilla's cloak and threw up a ward around the two of them instead. Debris pounded against it like a stone rainfall. Sedgewick's magic consumed or shot back whatever struck. When the assault ended, she gently pressed her palm against his chest until he finally dismissed the spell and let her sit up. Fire flickered all over the remains of the summer house. And Feyla knew the Carrows had been burnt up releasing it.

Wetness covered her cheeks. At first, it was only tears, but then big, fat droplets pattered down from above. They hissed against the fire and cooled the burning in her blood. She slumped tiredly to the side. Rain. Summer rain. A final end to a hundred-year-old fire she'd spent weeks chasing.

"Feyla..." Sedgewick's voice brushed her ear like a breeze in autumn. "Feyla, do you still...still want...?"

Want me, she thought. He was asking if the spell had slipped through anyway. She tore away from the remains of the house and soaked in the broken hesitation in his eyes, the tremor to his jaw. Brushing her fingers through his feathery red hair, she whispered in turn, "Always."

He kissed her. Not on her lips but on the wetness of her cheeks. Sweeping the liquid away until she no longer felt like she was drowning.

*****************

Author's Note: Wow, this book has been an emotional whirlwind. There are parts I love and parts I hate, and this chapter encapsulates that. Regardless of what I feel, we're at the end. Now only the epilogue is left. I just hope some of you felt this was the right kind of ending. They're hard to write, guys. Really, really hard.

I've loved this song for years, and listening to it again made me think of Feyla pleading with Desden to learn the lesson she's spend the whole story being taught.

Goodbye, Des and Dormaeus. You two were so much more than what I planned you to be.

Also screw you, Daydrel.