A Storm of Paper Starlings

Epilogue

Mara Morrigan hadn't spent a century reuniting the two sides of the tapestry to have them locked in a trunk, but there was nothing else for it. She couldn't leave them behind in this house—in the box her father had chosen to live out his remaining years. Years which had turned out to be months. She'd taken the tapestry down from the wall in preparation for the coven's journey, and it was with a satisfied smile that she spread the two sides of her blossoming story out on her bedroom floor.

There was barely enough room in there to do so, and the edges of the tapestries curled up around legs and plinths. Mara didn't collect furniture like the others did, so most of the furniture that came with the rental had made its way into her bedroom to make way for the coven's hoard. Consequently, her room was the only one still stuffed with antiques the night before their early morning departure.

Her own belongings were packed away—her candelabras and wall sconces, her framed prints and ancient photographs, her candles and trinkets. The portrait of Bardo—the man she had once loved, the man who was murdered by her father—and the photos of Amethyst's younger years hadn't even made it out of the small, lacquered box she kept them in. Since everything was going into storage, the plants would have to stay behind.

She'd packed up the death moth bedding that Amethyst had covered with a ghastly indigo throw from her tie-dye phase, but she'd had no rug to pack. She smiled to herself in remembrance of her sister's face when she'd thrown open Mara's bedroom door to find the large beetle rug taking up the entire floor. If Amethyst wanted to flop onto Mara's bed as she so often did, she would have to walk across that rug.

Amethyst would never. For a human so tolerant of blood and guts, she was unusually squeamish when it came to certain bugs. Mara could trace each fear back to a single incident. The slow worm that wriggled over her foot when her father and Boxer took her camping. The earthworm that hid inside her wellington boot when she left them outside by the back door of their old home in Ireland. The giant moth that flew into her bedroom one night and proceeded to throw itself repeatedly at the walls until she woke up screaming about a bloodthirsty bat trying to eat her while she slept. And the stag beetle she'd found crawling on her sandwich the one day she'd taken her lunch dramatically into the garden, so she could eat alone.

Mara had bought that rug to discourage her sister's frequent interruptions, but Amethyst had merely tucked her foot beneath the rug and curled it up, so she could no longer see the bugs. Barely two weeks after Mara bought the thing, she had tripped over it in the night, having forgotten to lay it flat again, so she got rid of it, her sister's ill-timed visits continuing as usual.

Mara didn't realise a smile was softening her features until it melted away at the sudden realisation that she'd need to leave her sister behind. For the time being.

Trust Sean to arrange safe accommodation for her with the well-demon—Magnus Penhaligon. The man was obviously a friend of the girl's father, but how had they met? Mara wasn't aware that Daniel had known any powerful people at all, and she still hadn't figured out how he was getting onto the Penhaligon family's land.

Even with an invitation, a vampire shouldn't be able to get beyond the protections littering the fields surrounding the house. The protections would make it difficult to bring Amethyst back home where she belonged, but Mara would find a way in. She always did.

She gave her temporary bedroom a final glance, curling her lip at the ugly shadows thrown out by the yellow glow of the bare bulb. Just an hour ago, the plain room had looked so much prettier, a Moroccan lampshade casting a lacy pattern across the ceiling and down the walls. Mara appreciated the deception.

It was with a jolt of surprise that she realised she'd be sad to leave. Even knowing it was merely a reprieve from her benefactor's demands, she'd enjoyed her time here in some ways.

She hadn't even minded that her father had wanted to keep her here forever—trapped—just so Amethyst could get to know someone she once shared a womb with. Mara didn't need to like the girl to appreciate how she made Amethyst happy. And as Mara anticipated the events that would lead to finally ridding herself of her father's weight around her neck, she knew Amethyst's happiness would run short.

The only thing left to pack were the shawls she'd hung over the doors of the mirrored wardrobes. She didn't care to see her reflection, so she'd have Albert take them down last thing before they left in the morning. Tomorrow's clothes were already stacked on the dark cane chair in the corner.

Hercules snuffled from Mara's bed, but he didn't wake. Mara turned back to the tapestry, trailing shaking fingers along the gold thread as she thought about the journey ahead. She froze when a gentle knock sounded through the door. She was certain it was Caspar, so she pretended to be asleep, slowing her heart down in case he was listening.

He felt... different since Sean's death—darker, more dangerous, and more alluring than ever. And Mara couldn't afford to be distracted by him if she was to wake her queen.

And she would wake her.

When Mara eventually came back for Amethyst, she would secure her sister's immortality and loyalty, and give her queen—her prima sire—the new life she deserved in one act of sacrifice and submission. Together, they would rule as her queen should have from the very beginning.

Mara listened intently as Caspar's footsteps quietened behind his own bedroom door, her silent fingers questing, seeking the pulse that allowed her to speak to the demon in the tapestry.

"I am looking forward to meeting this sister," the voice said. "The one who is near constant in your thoughts."

Mara smiled through a long breath. "My queen."

"It is time for me to rise, Mara."

"Yes."

"You will bind the trees to the earth's deepest scars, and on your return, we shall destroy his spawn, for I cannot rule while his line prospers."

She had mentioned this He before, and the one time Mara had asked about him, her queen had snapped that Mara would be told only when she needed to know. She forced him out of her mind, focusing instead on the trip ahead.

"He has prevented me from claiming what is due to me for too long, scorching the earth with my names," the voice continued. "And when I have a body to call my own, he will know my fury, for he will burn inside it for all eternity."

Mara couldn't ask. She didn't even dare think the questions that had been spinning in her thoughts in recent months, because the prima sire always knew what was on her mind, and Mara hated to make her angry or disappointed.

"Your father was an intelligent man," said the voice. "To bring you so close to his wretched kin."

"What do you mean?"

"You will return here, Mara. To this house. When your quest abroad is over, you will find his spawn residing in the big house. His signature is strong. He'll be a challenge, no doubt. But you can overcome. You will overcome."

"I will," Mara promised.

Finally, her sire had confided in her the whereabouts of her most hated enemy. This could mean only one thing: Magnus Penhaligon was her target. He and his kin.

He might be a big man and a powerful well-demon, but Mara had plans to build an army, and when her pilgrimage was over, the Penhaligons would fall.

Every.

Last.

One.

A/N: Thanks so much for reading. I appreciate you more than you know. If you enjoyed this story, let me know in the comments.

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