Apple patted me on the hand, but I glanced back at Zane as I was pulled through the main space. He had already moved on to goofing around with Kilen. He scooped the boy up and tossed him over his shoulder while Kilen shrieked.

When I looked back at the factory, I halted. Hallways I swore hadn’t been there before split off the main room with warm, golden torches flickering down the lengths, and crystal archways led to large rooms I also didn’t remember. Above us, glittering, twisted staircases wove through the balconies, casting sparkles of light across the ceiling from the burning sun in the skylights.

“Ah, yes. Those have been showing up for a measure now,” Apple explained when she saw me staring. “In the beginning it was fun—we would race through the new hallways and go exploring. I’m certain the spirit of the library has followed the Patrol here and is expanding this glorious factory of ours. But now we’re used to new places showing up. I barely noticed yestereve when a door appeared across from mine in the hall. I haven’t had time to check what’s inside it yet.”

A Patrolman went barrelling down the rail of the staircase on his rear, and a series of others bellowed in laughter when he tipped off the end and couldn’t catch his feet. He tumbled right into the chocolate river. I recognized his fuchsia hair before it hit the brown liquid; he was the host of the competition Eliot had instigated last year to try and steal me from Zane.

My thoughts drifted to the new coat Eliot had been wearing when he’d arrived at Grandma’s house, and for a split second, I regretted leaving Kaley behind with him.

“That’s…amazing,” I said to Apple, taking in the splatters of stained glass that seemed to have spread in patches over the tall windows at the back of the great room, and the bows that lined every balcony railing in sight. All that magic that had been stolen by Asteroth in the fire was crawling back to the surface. “How, though?” I remembered flames, burning shelves, and melting cutlery.

“Oh, I suppose it was inside the Patrol all along. Cora Thimble claims a church isn’t a building, but a group of souls who come together. The church is here,” she nodded to the Patrolmen. “It’s inside of us. We are the library.”

I smiled. “What have you done this year?” My chest tightened as I feared they’d been up to wonderful things that I’d missed while I was trapped on the other side.

Apple’s deep lips curled up at the corners. “Well, my father and I aren’t exactly the legends we were in seasons past, I’m afraid. We still make chocolates of course, but for different reasons now. We make them for the children in the Ten Towns over the hills. It gives the villagers something to look forward to, and now that I have several hundred delivery boys at my disposal, the job gets done quite well.”