Fiona came to live in the little cottage that Tate and Leelo shared, and though she was recovering, it was obvious that she was permanently weakened by the years of poisoning. Leelo hoped that fresh air, healthy food, and never having to work again would help restore her to some semblance of her former self, but she wouldn’t count on it. In the meantime, Leelo began to knit the beautiful clothing her mother taught her to make and brought it to the market, where people came from miles around to buy her goods.

Sage had not followed them off the island, though Leelo didn’t know if she had stayed in the end. She could find Leelo someday, if she wanted to. Leelo was just grateful to have her mother and Tate so close, in their own little home where they made all the rules. Where love was found in abundance, and no one was ever scolded for burning a pie or spilling the sugar.

Spring was coming to the mountain, and Summer, who was now engaged to her carpenter, smiled at them all knowingly as they walked to market one day. “Spring came early this year,” she said, gazing up at her fiancé.

Tadpole smirked and muttered under her breath, “No one likes a know-it-all,” and Story elbowed her in the ribs.

Nigel and Fiona walked side by side, but they were shy around each other, as Leelo and Jaren had once been. Still, it was obvious there was love between them, and there was no reason to rush that love. That was one of the greatest gifts leaving Endla had granted them all: time.

Perhaps it shouldn’t have surprised them when the Forest did what its name had foretold all along: wandered. Once it realized that it was no longer needed or wanted, it had disappeared and traveled somewhere new, where Leelo supposed some other unsuspecting group of people would either accept it or drive it away. And though a part of her wished they had destroyed it, there was another small part of her that was glad it had survived. Just like all of them, it only wanted to live.

Percy bounded ahead of them now, and Leelo rested her head on Jaren’s shoulder, drinking in the beauty of the moment. She was beginning to appreciate things as they were, not as they had been or how she wished them to be.

“What are you thinking about?” Jaren asked her, swinging their hands between them.

“Just that I’m happy,” she said.

“You look awfully concerned for someone who claims to be happy.” He placed his finger on the furrow between her brows, trying to rub it away, then gave up when it was clear it wasn’t going to budge.