Page 113 of The Queen's Box

“Aw, hon,” Brooxie said. “My eyesight may be going, but I still know you’re glowing.”

Ruby cackled. “And neither one of us is deaf. Our walls aren’t soundproofed, although we may need to consider addressing that if you stick around.”

Willow dropped her face into her hands.

“Welcome back,” Ruby added, patting her shoulder.

“Eat!” commanded Brooxie.

And so they did. The conversation wandered from neighborhood gossip to the ever-increasing price of gasoline to along-suffering cousin who’d tried to start a food truck and ended up in a hospital in Asheville with second-degree burns.

Cole let the sisters prattle on and didn’t interrupt. Willow sensed he was giving her this time on purpose, allowing herself to feel her way back into the fabric of this world. When everyone was just about finished, Brooxie leaned forward and said, “Can I get coffee for anyone?”

“More juice?” Ruby suggested.

“No, thank you,” Willow said. “Everything was delicious, but I couldn’t eat another bite.”

Brooxie nodded. “In that case, shall we discuss the duskwyrm?”

“The one in Cole’s room,” Ruby added. “In my vase.”

“It was empty,” Cole protested.

“I’d prefer it stay that way,” Ruby shot back.

Willow looked at Cole helplessly.How did they know?

They know everything,Cole replied with a shrug.

“That’s right, we do,” Ruby said with a huff. She nodded her chin at Willow. “You made a promise. It’s time to see it through.”

“We’re real glad you’re back, hon,” Brooxie said. “And once you’ve tied up loose ends with Amira, maybe we can all settle into this one wild and precious life we have. What do you think?”

“There is nothing in this world—or any other—that I would like better,” Willow said.

~

Another forest, another trail. Willow no longer found the hike strenuous, however. She cradled the vase as she walked, the duskwyrm curled quiet and still within.

“I can carry it,” Cole offered.

“Thanks, but no, it should be me.”

Soon enough, they reached the settlement of broken houses where Amira lived. Amira’s home looked more ramshackle thanshe remembered. The paint on the door was peeling, and the threshold sagged.

Inside, it was even worse. The dried herbs hung limp from their cords, their blossoms crumbling onto the floor. A shelf tilted in surrender, and the crystals and mystical talismans had lost their glamour. The jar that held the human hand had cracked and lost its fluid, so that hand now looked wrinkled and pinched.

Amira, who’d greeted them at the door, looked wrinkled and pinched as well. Her skin was sallow, and her once-glossy hair was threaded with gray. Her teeth were no longer white but yellow, with spots of brown at the gums.

“You’re back,” she said, her dry lips curving into a smile heavy with want. “Finally.”

Willow clutched the vase tighter to her chest, her fingers half-numb from gripping it too hard. She felt Cole beside her, the tension rolling off him in waves.

“I made a promise,” Willow said. “So, yes. I’m back.”

She placed the vase on a counter. From within, the duskwyrm hissed softly, not a threat but a whimper.

Willow wanted to grab the vase back, to hold it tightly and flee, because it felt wrong being here. Too many threads knotted beneath her skin, too many half-finished thoughts skittered through her mind.

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