The Cunning Man || ONC 2021

Epilogue

"Ya' sure ya' want me here for this?" Harlan stood awkwardly in the kitchen doorway and worried his flop-brimmed hat between his hands.

"I'll keep saying this until you accept it, but what happened wasn't your fault." I welcomed him across the threshold with a wave.

"Still feel I owe you an apology," Harlan muttered with a regretful glance down at my broken hand.

"The only person owed an apology is you," I threw an arm around his shoulder as he shuffled up beside me. "I put you and this whole county in danger simply because I didn't like who I was." I stared at my friend's profile until he reluctantly turned his face toward mine. "It'll be just fine between us, Harlan, if you'll let it be."

"I know," he said quietly. "But it might take some time." He then hastened to add, "Not 'cuz of you or anythin'. It's just..." his voice and gaze trailed off.

"The revenant left some damage," I murmured.

Harlan nodded miserably and I stifled a sigh. I met Nora's gaze as she set Theo's box down on the kitchen table in front of us. I didn't know how to heal a soul, and I didn't suspect she did either. But maybe, just maybe, a sanguinist who healed and a spiritualist who saved could figure it out. Harlan deserved our best attempt, at least, even if it took us all the rest of our lives to set right what had been done.

"Ya' sure you really need me here?" My deputy asked after I patted him on the back and stepped away. His gaze hadn't once wavered from the box since Nora had brought it into view.

"I'm going to need this whole damn town, but there's not enough room in this kitchen for that amount of people." My words were light, but my tone was grim.

"You got room for one more at least?" A figure in a white cattleman's hat and a red embroidered vest emerged from around the corner of the foyer, just outside the kitchen entrance.

I hid a smile and jerked my head toward the end of the table at my right. "Come on, Captain. Shoulda' known you'd show yourself in."

"I'm offended you didn't ask me to be here," he gave me a hard look as he swept his hat off of his head.

"I sorta' figured you'd tell me to solve my own problems," I admitted with a shrug.

"Well, you should," Josiah snorted. "An' you will. Your idiocy got you into this, no one else's. However," he looked at me, Nora, and Harlan in turn. "I'm the only other person who knows what happened 'neath that ole' oak. I know what's at stake."

He crossed his arms over his chest and settled his gaze at the box. "If your Cunnin' fails, Sheriff, then my Conjure can't. The only way I make sure of that is to know what happens here."

"Yes sir," I replied quietly.

I looked around the table. The Captain was to my right, Nora was to my left, and Harlan was directly across from me. Four, my mother once told me, was the number of stability, creation, and containment.

I took a deep breath.

"No matter what happens going forward, I'm going to take every presence here as a promise that we're in this together. Like the Captain says, if one of us falls, then someone steps into their place. We protect every soul in this county, until either we're all gone or the revenant is."

I waited until everyone had murmured their agreement, and then I looked the woman who was both my wife and my Familiar in the eye one last time. Nora gave me a small smile and a nod of encouragement, and in that moment, through the connection we had created, I could feel the depth and warmth of her affection. It wasn't love just yet, but if we survived the next few days, it could be.

For so long, I'd hid beneath accusations of witchcraft and necromancy. This was the moment where I stepped out from beneath the lies of others and into the strength of my own truth. I took a deep breath, steadied the constant flow and swirl of magic in my hands, and lifted the box that had sent me running as a boy, only to lead me as a man right back to my birthright.

Spiritualist.

Changeling.

Cunning Man.