Later, Claire listened to the Malchains discuss plans for one of Nadia’s other ideas: an Academy of Magic, where all four guilds could learn together for the first time in more than three hundred years. Claire also asked the Steeles questions about the family’s plans to travel through Arden, revitalizing the frozen chimera wherever they came across them, and she could see how excited Nett was at the thought of the new books and knowledge they were sure to encounter.

Her friends had bright new futures, and Claire was sad she wouldn’t be able to see them. Because Claire and her parents had decided that right after the inauguration, when all the guilds and unicorns were still gathered, would be the best and safest time for them to travel into the seams of the world and back to Windemere.

Home. She missed it. And she was curious about the magic Nadia had mentioned—the magic in all worlds. Even so, as the morning birds began to chirp, she wasn’t quite ready when Nadia came to gather the Martinsons and their friends for their final goodbye. She led them to a private spot behind Aquila’s cottage where a doorframe of silver, oak, ribbon, and rock had been constructed. The door itself had been left blank, waiting for Claire’s pencil.

“Promise you won’t forget to water your pencil,” Nett said, the tip of his nose bright red.

“I already promised,” Claire said, but she promised again as she hugged her very first friend in Arden tight. “And you, don’t forget your promise.”

Nett laughed. “I promise to make you two inches taller in all my historical accounts.” He turned away to make his farewell to Claire’s parents, who had fascinated him with their stories of the other world. Next, Claire found Sena, and was shocked to see the older girl had already burst into tears, a distressed Gryphin flying away to avoid the wetness and potential rust.

“Sena,” Claire said, somewhat delightedly, “You’re going all ‘moss soft’ on me!”

“I can’t help it,” Sena grumbled, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand. “Don’t tell Nett.”

Finally, the others seemed to drift away to let the sisters speak to each other.

“Sophie, are you sure you can’t come back with us?”

“Claire,” Sophie said, “I don’t think I can go down the well or through your drawing, and even if I could, I wouldn’t.” She took a deep breath. “I belong here. Arden needs me.”

“I need you!”

Sophie smiled sadly. “You don’t, not really. You know me just as well as you know yourself.” That much was true. Even apart, Claire couldn’t help but hear Sophie’s voice—her advice, her teasing, her love—wherever she may go. Sophie would never be gone from Claire, not really.

But even so, she reached out for Sophie’s hand and gripped it hard.