There was one more good-bye she needed to make.
One more dream to kill.
Once she was out of the cemetery and away from any prying electronic eyes, she lifted her face to the sky and called her magic.
It carried her away, sweeping her across miles and miles, over land and ocean. It was nearing dawn when her feet alit on the ground.
She breathed the air in, filled her lungs with the scent of the forest—trees, moss, the morning dew. She stared around her, amazed to realize she barely recognized the place. Centuries had passed since she’d seen this bit of land. No sign of Oneoak remained and logically, she hadn’t expected to see anything of the long-gone village.
Even the trees were different. The land. Peering up at the sky, she searched for something that she recognized. But there was nothing.
Swallowing the knot in her throat, she started to walk.
Although the land no longer seemed familiar, she knew where he rested. She could have found his grave had she been forced to stumble blindfolded through a snowstorm.
There was nothing to identify it. No marker, no stone. But she knew. Deep inside, she knew. Settling on the ground next to his grave, she rested a hand on the earth and said, “Hello, lover.”