He looked around again at the cottage, at the small barn that would be a snug shelter for the horses, at the flower and vegetable gardens. He could see himself sitting under the fruit trees with his harp, working on a song. He could picture Lyrra sitting on that bench near the flowers, working on a story or just sitting peacefully and letting her gift flow into the world. He could see them in the tavern on winter evenings, entertaining friends and neighbors. He could see it—and the picture warmed his heart.

“So, what do you think?” Gavin asked again.

Feeling Lyrra’s hand slip into his, Aiden smiled. “I think we’ve come home.”