At last I come to stand upon the very ground that was only moments ago rent open and spewing such evil. There is a rumbling, as if the earth itself is reluctant to accept all the wickedness it must hold within it. I fight to steady my own galloping heart and ragged breathing. Slowly, the cemetery begins to quiet. The flames I created shrink and disappear. The air settles to its more normal, nighttime stillness.

Bram staggers to his feet and hurries to me.

“Lilith! My God, Lilith…” He wraps his arms around me, holding me close, even though I still fizz with magic, and must feel strange and more than a little frightening in his embrace.

“Bram! You are safe.”

“Your shoulder—you’re hurt.” He tenderly looks at the burn that has seared my skin.

“It is nothing, merely a memento. Oh, but Louis…!”

We run to where he lies. Bram helps me turn him over. His face is so very pale.

“He is breathing!” Bram tells me.

I place my hand on his brow, letting whatever magic I might possess, magic that I as yet do not even begin to comprehend, magic that might counter Stricklend’s spell, letting it help him if it can.

“Wake up, Louis,” I say softly, then again. “Wake up.”

He gasps, a shuddering breath, and then his eyes open. I let out a cry of relief.

Louis takes a moment to come to his senses, and when he speaks, his voice is cracked and hoarse. “Good grief, Lily.” He surveys the devastation around us. “Remind me not to make an enemy of you.”

I smile at him. “You could never do that, dear Louis.”

I become aware of shifting shapes behind me. The others sense them, too, and appear alarmed.

“All is well,” I promise them. “We are among friends.”

Slowly, cautiously, the spirits begin to reveal themselves. My faithful Cavaliers. Amelia. Many spirits known to me, and others new, but all come willingly, happily, in friendship. I stand up to greet them properly, and am astonished when they kneel in front of me. They whisper their thoughts and praise.

We are here to serve you, mistress.

Spirits bless you!

Welcome, Queen of the Night.

Bram helps Louis to his feet and they stand beside me.

“Well,” says Louis, who can hear every word, “it seems you have been elevated.”

I find myself, ridiculously, blushing. “I do not deserve such a title. I have not earned it.”

“What title?” Bram wants to know.

Louis explains, grinning, “Our little Lily is a risen witch now, Cardale. No longer Daughter of the Night, she is Queen of the Night.”

Queen of the Night, Queen of the Night!

The spirits echo my new name over and over.

Bram smiles at me. “It suits you. I have never seen anyone look more regal than you do at this moment.”

I meet his gaze.