Sophie didn’t say anything, but she didn’t have to. Claire knew she already had the answer. One more hug, tight and fierce and short, and then Claire let her sister go.

Taking a deep breath, Claire turned away, and she did not look back again. She had a new quest, her own quest, and she would make sure to enjoy every moment of it. Behind her, hundreds of hooves pounded across the plain, and then a moment later, the air was full of song as all the unicorns of Arden were home at last.

Claire pulled her pencil from behind her ear and set the tip to the door. Last time she’d sketched everything she loved about Arden, but now it was time to remember everything she loved about her own world. With the weight of Mom’s and Dad’s hands on her shoulders and the magic of unicorns in the air, Claire drew her own way home.

Epilogue

EPILOGUE

She’d grown since the first day she and her family had arrived at Windemere Manor. Last summer, the fireplace’s mantel had loomed overhead, but now Claire was eye level with it. Well, almost eye level.

After everything that happened, Mom and Dad had changed their mind about selling Windemere Manor. It would take two years for the house to be properly rebuilt from the strange flames that had torn through the mansion. But it was a historic home, and there were societies that were willing to help them cover the costs of fixing the damage from the fire that had begun, somehow, in the art gallery on the first floor. Everything would be rebuilt—even the fireplace’s chimney.

It had been a strange fire, everyone agreed on that, but nothing had befuddled the fire department more than the hearth of the fireplace. It wasn’t scorched but warped. As though the stone had been melted and reformed. As though it had survived an earthquake—though no earthquakes had been recorded here for a very long time. Claire let her hands run over the mantel’s carvings of forest animals among foliage. And here and there, she’d discovered, a carved image of a hammer, a gemstone, an oak leaf, and a love knot.

She would always be searching for magic in this world.

“Claire! It’s time to go!”

“In a minute, Mom!” she called back. Outside, she could hear Dad rev the engine. They were heading home to their small house, two hours away, but they would be back next weekend. Like Claire, her parents preferred to be here. She hurried down the length of the gallery, empty now but for a few footprints.

As she reached the double doors, Claire turned back to look one more time at the room.