“Jack!” she said, laughing, wrapping her arms around him to return his embrace. Behind him, the road vanished, just as Pip came charging into the room, Gloaming drawn.

“What’s going on?” she demanded.

Jack released Eleanor, wheeled, and hugged Pip, too. She yelped, getting Gloaming out of the way just in time not to skewer him. Then Otto came into the room, the kitten-of-ashes on his shoulder, and there was more hugging, everyone talking at the same time.

“What on earth happened to you?” Jack asked. “We’ve been trying to get back to Eden Eld for months, but we haven’t been able to get through.”

“It might have been easier if my abilities had not abandoned me quite suddenly,” Wander noted. Eleanor winced, but Wander was smiling faintly. “Your eyes are full of starlight, Eleanor. You carry the Story like it belongs with you.”

Jack looked suddenly grave. “The world-walker. It has taken you, then.”

“More like the other way around,” Otto said. Jack looked at him, brow furrowed.

Eleanor sighed. “It’s complicated. But the Stories aren’t a danger to us anymore.”

“How is this possible?” Jack asked wonderingly.

“They’re remarkable children,” the hedgewitch said. Jack stiffened, turned. He looked at her and his lips formed the name Claire. The hedgewitch looked at him, arms folded, expression unreadable. “Hello, Jack. Wander.”

Jack’s hand tightened on Eleanor’s shoulder. She covered his hand with hers. “She’s been helping us,” she told him. He looked down at her, eyes shining with the grief she felt every time she looked at the hedgewitch. He’d loved her mother, too.

His voice was rough as he said, “I think you had better explain everything that’s happened.”

Twenty-Two

Eleanor sat alone in her room. She’d spent so long in this room listening to the ticking of the grandfather clock just outside that now its silence was unsettling. But even with time ground to a halt, she could feel the seconds slipping away.

The bag from the Library lay next to her on the bed, the books the Editor gave her stacked on top of it. Eden Eld. Claire Barton. The Glass-Heart Girl. Things lost and unwritten.

Her hand strayed toward her mother’s book, but she didn’t pick it up. She wasn’t sure she could bear to read about all the things she’d lost when her mother faded away. Instead she picked up The Glass-Heart Girl, opening it gingerly.