"Yes, Mistress. Everyone here is so encouraging, I thought I would try a new hobby. Do you play, Mistress?"

  "I, er, no," Millie managed through a gob that had been thoroughly smacked. Clara volunteering a question? Making eye contact? EVE was a school of witchcraft, not outright sorcery, what was Vickie doing in those Crow lessons? "How is it going so far?"

  "I think well. Mistress Victoria could answer better, I think," Clara said.

  "It's been twenty minutes. I would prefer more data points before venturing any conclusions." Something flashed behind Vickie's eyes. "But! You have proven to be an excellent student in all other fields, so I have no reason to doubt you will do just as well in this. An… encouraging start, to be sure."

  Clara beamed.

  "Then you should get back to it," Millie said.

  When the sound of basic scales came tinkling out of the lounge, she leaned down so only Elise could hear her ask, "You saw that, right?"

  Elise wore a look of wonder and more than a little pride. "I did."

  By the time they made it up to the top floor, Millie finally began to feel the journey that had deposited her there, but it was the kind of exhausted that came after hard exercise and knowing she would be better off for having done it.

  "Welcome home, my angel," Millie said.

  "It is good to be home, my love," Elise replied.

  The kiss they shared was laced with deeper meaning, one that flitted back and forth across the Bond without needing to be spoken. There was still one more step to take before they could say they had truly returned.

  Leaving their luggage and all else behind save what Millie protectively encased in one witchscale-enshrouded hand, they descended the stairs once more and made their way around the back of the dormitory.

  Central to EVE but hidden from public view was the memorial garden. Rings of flowers bloomed in all different colours in every season thanks to Ivy, spiralling down and down until in the centre, standing alone, were four black roses.

  Millie knelt beside the youngest one, already festooned with thorns. Prickly and dangerous, as likely to draw blood as admiration, just like the person it represented. Elise glided to her side, the pool of her dress about her ankles making the shining thorns glow white.

  "It was as beautiful as you always said it was. I don't know why you ever left. But if you hadn't, I never—"

  Elise's hand appeared in Millie's without a conscious thought, and the warmth in the back of her mind was stoked a little higher. A little brighter, enough to give her the courage to look into the dark again.

  "I would've never met you. And I wouldn't be here. Or who I am. So thank you again. I just… I just wanted to let you know we were home."

  The Bond brightened, reassuring Millie that it was time.

  Witchscale retreated from Millie's hand to leave a small glass jar in her bare palm. She unscrewed the lid, and the scent of rich Irish soil laced with grass clippings came pouring out. Memories came rushing back, and Millie did all she could to will them into the soil as she and Elise carefully packed it around the base of the rose.

  "And now, so are you."

  With Millie back home, Victoria would have been happy enough. Then the post arrived and she had no idea what to do with the energy that resulted from opening the envelope addressed to her from His Majesty's government. For one fully capable of changing energy into matter and back, it was a more multidimensional dilemma than it would be for most people, but still resulted in the same outcome: pacing. Back and forth in front of the sitting room window, light into shadow and back, she forewent slippers just to expend that little bit more energy into noise in addition to locomotion.

  Her mind raced in a thousand different directions as it tried to assemble some greater whole out of the possibilities outlined in the letter she held in her grip like a talisman. But that was the problem: the possibilities were endless, and she wasn't entirely certain she was possessed of enough imagination to give them any shape, leaving what whizzed around between her ears a swirl of enticing points that occasionally formed something comprehensible, if not familiar. She wasn't often given to pareidolia, but in this case she let it happen, and marvelled at the results.

  Then she heard the jangling of keys and found her outlet.

  The moment Kiska opened the door, Victoria rocketed into her, sending them stumbling into the hall and up against the far wall. With no thought given to propriety or where they were, Victoria smashed her lips into Kiska's and gave back everything she had been given in the office days earlier. Her efforts were clumsy but sincere, and she forgot to breathe, but for all that her blood sang.

  Firm but gentle hands pressed against her shoulders, and Victoria only resisted for a moment before she parted from Kiska with a wet sound that struck sparks from parts of Victoria she didn't know she had.

  Breathless and slightly confused, Kiska gave Victoria a look that rewarded her for her daring, but only provisionally. "What's gotten into you?"

  "Come, my light, I'll show you," Victoria said. Snatching up both of Kiska's hands, she all but dragged her into their flat and flung the door shut behind them with magic. From the table across the room, she retrieved the letter the same way, but couldn't wait for it to arrive before what it said came tumbling over her lips in an avalanche of barely-comprehensible joy. "I have been asked by His Majesty's government to give my input into several future scientific endeavours that could change the face of Britain and perhaps the world."

  It took a moment for Kiska to piece meaning together from a string of words that had been machine-gunned at her, but when she did, she all but screamed and threw her arms around Victoria. "That's wonderful! How? What kind of endeavours?"

  "Unknown at present. They are understandably being kept confidential, but I am one of several scientists that have been chosen to help evaluate each proposal's viability, and advise as to which ones receive funding to move forward." Victoria's mouth was barely able to keep up with how quickly her mind was pouring thoughts into it, but if they didn't come out her mouth, they would burst from her ears. "Kiska, the government is looking to pour millions into scientific research projects, and not just ones that may have commercial viability. Research for the sake of research. There is no predicting what could come of that! Think of the questions we could answer! The ones we don't even know to ask because we don't know enough to ask them!"

  Speaking so much and so quickly, Victoria grew lightheaded and had to sit down. Kiska sank onto the sofa beside her, never letting go of her hand. "I don't know that I've ever seen you this excited, my shadow. You're positively giddy."

  "I've dreamt of this, but never believed it would actually happen. The opportunities this could afford! They… they know who I am! They want to know what I think! A female physicist walking the halls of Parliament! By invitation!"

  Breathless with exhilaration, Victoria was forced to take a moment to rectify the consequences. Lungs heaving in search of the oxygen she'd been denying them, she loosened her tie and snapped open the top button on her shirt with more delicacy than the last time she'd done it magically.

  Kiska regarded her with her head propped in her hand against the back of the sofa. "I'm so proud of you. As the one who loves you, your friend, your partner… as a witch and as a woman. I'm proud of you, Vityusha."

  Something of considerable mass formed in Victoria's throat, and she had to swallow around it. As much as she had been starved for physical contact without knowing, for the deep, nourishing emotional roots she'd formed with Kiska without knowing, Victoria had been equally ignorant of her need to hear those words. She had much to be proud of, that she was proud of, but to hear it from the woman she loved, who loved her…

  Finally overwhelmed, her mouth failed her. "Thank you," was all she could say in response.

  Idly, Kiska tugged off Victoria's tie and wound it through and around her fingers. "When is the meeting?"

  "The 17th," Victoria said.

  "Just a few days before Sveta's visit. Well, hopefully we'll have quite a bit of celebrating to do together. Pity you swore off alcohol."

  "The only intoxicant I require now is you, my light."

  Roses as sweet as Kiska's perfume bloomed in her cheeks, and she bit the end of Victoria's tie to hide her smile. "I hope you get invited to these kinds of things more often if this is what it does to you."

  "Not for the potential leaps in scientific advancement?"

  "Oh, that would be a pleasant side effect, I suppose," Kiska said as she reached over to flip open the second button on Victoria's shirt.

  They held each others' eyes, letting the words and the moment saturate them both down to their essences. Something unnamable passed between them, and again Victoria felt another marker pass, some latch or lock that would prevent them from ever sliding back, encouraging them to climb even higher.

  Cool air flowed into the open 'V' in Victoria's collar, and Kiska's gaze, however briefly, followed. Unused to any sort of attention remotely similar, Victoria was unsure if the sudden galloping in her chest was from euphoria or panic. Kiska had certainly been more overt in her affections recently, a reassuring sign of her continued growth and healing, but Victoria was finding it difficult to keep up with being the recipient.

  She needed space and time, and for her mind to stop locking up every time Kiska did something new and unexpected. It would do no good to discourage her, though. Victoria had asked Kiska to push her, to find her boundaries, and she didn't, in truth, object to anything Kiska had done. Victoria liked the attention, she simply lacked the capacity to respond as anything but a naive dullard.

  Today had been an exceptionally good day, however, and there was no reason it shouldn't continue to be. So Victoria smiled at her partner, letting her infatuation show through without restraint.

  "What is it, my shadow?"

  "You," Victoria said.

  "Me?"

  "You. Do I need another reason to smile?"

  With an answering one of her own, Kiska raised Victoria's hand to her lips and kissed the back. Light uniquely Kiska's sparkled amidst the rings of ice regarding her from between her knuckles. "I've come up with a fair few I might like to try."

  Victoria's smile turned inside out as she struggled to come up with a response to such an insinuation. For all that she was keen on emphasising the role imagination and creativity played in both science and magic, having it unleashed on her relationship without warning (and from two feet away) was unfair. Perhaps she had been too daring in the hall, too eager, she wasn't ready for the look in Kiska's eyes, or to be… regarded.

  Or was she?

  "Have I found a boundary, my shadow?"

  Victoria swallowed. So many had fallen already, expanding her vision to horizons she had never known awaited on the other side, but some would take longer to scale than others.

  "Yes," she admitted. "For now. But I am open to encouragement."

  Kiska nodded and kissed Victoria's hand again. This time, a promise.

  The pace didn't matter, only progress.

  And not even Victoria knew how much was about to be made. All she did know was that she was quite looking forward to finding out.

  On an Irish cliffside under a cloudless blue sky, everything seemed clearer. Hopes and plans had the whole world to expand into, with nothing to stop them. Possibilities seemed endless and complications unthinkable.

  At home, surrounded by all those who made it precisely that, things got complicated very quickly.

  "I'm so glad you're back, dear. The bananas have gotten away from me," Ivy said as she bustled Millie into the greenhouse and closed the door behind them. After the injuries from the fire and a week of crisp wind off the Atlantic, Millie was more aware of her lungs than she had ever been, and felt them fill up. The humidity was like walking into the bathroom right after one of Kat's showers; a physical wall you had to push through and try not to slip while doing it.

  Luckily, the floor of the greenhouse was concrete instead of tile, but at least the ceiling of the bathroom didn't have vines hanging from it, ready to tickle Millie's scalp and make her jump.

  "Christ!"

  Her hair had protected her head from a lot more than wind and sunshine, she was learning. She was going to need more hats.

  Ivy dragged Millie past the 'Apothecary' shelf of distilling oils and tinctures, through the potent cloud of fragrance put off by drying flower petals and under the creeping vines that were more creep than vine to the southeast corner, the one that got the most sun.

  Or, it used to. Now it was dominated by a single massive tree. The leaves were all as big as Millie's torso, and shone with a subtle iridescence that was beautiful but slightly unnerving, the way almost everything Ivy grew was.

  "You see the problem."

  "Ivy, I'm from Scotland. I've never seen a banana tree before. This is a banana tree, right?" Millie asked with sudden doubt.

  "Well, it started as one."

  Millie couldn't even be surprised. "What is it now?"

  "'Dunno. Never was any good at naming things. 'S gonna reach the ceiling soon, though, and I don't trust ladders enough to get the fruit at the top. Could you do it for me please?" Ivy's prominent canine teeth caught her lower lip as she looked from Millie up the tree as it soared into the glass sky. "Pro'lly don't have much chance to pick fruit with witchscale. Be good for you."

  Chuckling softly, Millie did as she was asked without protest. She would never deny Ivy anything, let alone something so simple. Or anything that seemed simple, at least.

  "These are heavy! Good lord," Millie said as she set down three bushels onto a stainless steel cart Ivy wheeled over.

  The elder witch wasted no time in snapping one off and peeling it. Even skinless it was nearly as long as Ivy's forearm. "Full o' vitamins and whatnot. Calcium, potassium, lots'a heavy things in a banana." Biting off a considerable piece, she gave it a long, thoughtful chew as she peered into the cross-section through a jeweller's loupe. "That might do it. Bit big, though."

  "Do what?" Millie asked. She'd been assisting Ivy too long to know better than to speculate, or say something like 'a banana's a banana, isn't it?' Nothing was anything in Ivy's greenhouse, least of all what it looked like.

  Ivy bit off another hunk of banana and handed the remaining half to Millie. "'Lot of the girls are real shy when it comes to talking about a certain monthly condition, and they'd rather do it with me than the chemist. Been a couple hundred years since I had to deal with it, but I certainly remember."

  "But we make elixirs for that," Millie said.

  "True, but they aren't witches yet, so they have t' ask. Conspicuous. This?" Ivy took the empty skin from Millie's hand and tossed it into the 'to mulch' bin. "Portable, tasty, nutritious, just a piece a' fruit, innit? And all you have to do is come to me and say 'Mistress Ivy, I'd like a banana.' No stammering or embarrassment, and you can get on with life misery-free. Shouldn't have t' be so sneaky, but that's what repression gets you."

  "All right, I'm impressed," Millie said. "Why bananas, though?"

  "Dense. Lots a' complicated magic to stuff in there." Ivy stood up straight again, wiping her hands on her smock. She nodded back to the 'Apothecary' products in various stages of creation, then swept an arm out towards the dormitory. "Things like this're the most fun I've had in a long time. The girls have so many questions, and they feel comfortable around me enough to ask them! I'm part of something now. It's wonderful. Thank you."

  "Me? What did I do?" Millie asked.

  "All the way back at ADAM, through the early days here, you always made time for me. You came out to help more than anyone. That made a difference, you know. Made it easier to do…" Ivy gestured around to her queendom, all the life she'd made possible, "this. And…" she cleared her throat. "I never thanked you properly for saving Selene. In spite of what it cost, you put her first, above yourself. You let me see my best friend again, Millie. I don't know what I would've done if she—"

  Even before the thought broke off, the look in Ivy's eye drew Millie to her. Regardless of how well they knew each other or what they had been through, the thought of anyone Ivy's age losing the only person who had been with her through so many of her centuries was heartbreaking.

  Millie held one of her oldest mentor figures, the woman who had performed the astonishing act of magic that made Millie's marriage possible. Elise flickered away in the back of her mind, aware of what was happening and adding her own tenderness to the hug that only Millie was physically there for. "I would do the same for you."

  Ivy sniffed, and wiped her nose on an already-filthy sleeve. "I know you would, dear. It's what makes you, you. And why Niamh was so damn proud of you."

  They shared another hug, this one of commiseration and remembrance. Warmth radiated from the heart stone over Millie's chest, and Ivy backed away to look down at it. "Is that… is that Elise? I can feel her."

  "Aye, she's here," Millie said.

  "I saw it, when Elise was… I saw it. But I can feel this. There's a little piece of her in there." Ivy looked up from the heart stone to meet Millie's eye. "In you."

  Millie wanted to smile. She tried, but too much else came boiling out of her mouth for it to stick. "This isn't normal, is it? Elise and I. Her healing, my witchscale… from Germany. How is that even possible?"

  In all that had happened, the mechanics of how hadn't seemed that important, almost disrespectful. But now that some time had passed and perspective had been gained, it was shading towards scary. Millie should have died in the fire. She had accepted death as a possibility long ago, even planned on it with her 'final' letters to Elise, so it wasn't the prospect of dying that bothered her, more the fact that she had reached hundreds of miles unconscious to armour Elise against her will in witchscale. What if something had happened? What if she'd needed surgery, or just to feel Vickie's hand to know it was all right? Millie had cut Elise off from the world to protect her from a threat that didn't exist while she was dying.

  She took a steadying breath. There was a reason she'd avoided thinking about it.

 

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