Turning back to study the web, he suddenly understood what he was looking at—a web made out of power. Somehow, the Ebony-Jeweled power she used to wield was being transformed into this web instead of filling a vessel of human flesh. Since it was tied to the Misty Place, surely there was a way for her to regain that power if she—

He remembered Jaenelle as a child—a girl who felt the distance between herself and other people because of the Black power that was her Birthright, a girl whose family had never accepted her because she was different. He thought about the Queen who could have destroyed them all if that had been in her nature, a Queen so strong her power was a deep chasm that separated her from the rest of the Blood—even someone as strong as a Black-Jeweled Warlord Prince.

*You didn’t want it,* he said, staggered by the strength of that conviction.

*No,* Witch said, *I didn’t want it. Why would I want power so great I could destroy the Realms but couldn’t do what almost every Blood child can do because I was so powerful? * She looked away, and added softly, *I never wanted a formal court, never wanted to rule, never wanted more power than I already had with the Black. But I made the Offering to the Darkness and formed my court to prevent the Dark Council from destroying the kindred and taking their lands. I needed that power to defend Kaeleer and be a weapon to stop a war, but I never wanted it for myself.*

He moved closer to her, wanting to hold her, wanting to offer comfort, but he wasn’t sure she would accept it yet.

*How did you do it?* he asked. *How did you separate the power that was part of the dreams that made you without destroying who you are?*

She let out a pained little laugh. *I dreamed I wasn’t so different from the rest of the Blood—a dream I’ve had all of my life. That desire was strong enough that the Weaver of Dreams added it to the web . . . and this is the result.*

Daemon studied Witch, who looked sad and vulnerable. People had turned away from her before because she was so powerful. Now she wondered if the friends she loved might always feel uncomfortable with the fact that she wasn’t so powerful. He didn’t think the coven and the boyos would turn away from her, and once they realized she still was who and what she had always been, and was truly happy, they wouldn’t care what Jewel she wore.

Wrapping his arms around her, he fit his body to hers. *This is really what you want for yourself, isn’t it? An extraordinary ordinary life.*

*Yes, it is.*