I hadn’t even thought of that. But even if I had, it’s not something I could ever do. Mattie’s not my enemy, for all that I’m hers.

“You can’t make it better,” she says.

“Iknow.”

“Nothing can make it better.”

“Believe me, I know.”

“So, why are you here?” she asks.

That stops me. I want to see her through to the other side of these dark woods. But is that really what I’m doing here? Am I here for her need, or my own? But if I’m expecting forgiveness, shouldn’t I be willing to offer it to Del first?

Except I’m genuinely sorry for what I did to Mattie. Del doesn’t know the meaning of the word.

She holds up the teddy.

“And look at Grath. Look at what you did to him.”

I didn’t do anything. That was Lizzie. But considering how everything that’s happened here is because of me, she’s not wrong.

But this, at least, I can fix. I only have to wake up the charm. Which, I know now, is calling up the light. The hidden mystery of the Grace that put the tiniest quiver of itself in my unworthy body when I was a child. But while I know I don’t deserve it, that doesn’t mean I can’t use it.

Once upon a time . . .

And the torn teddy bear is mended like it was never hurt in the first place.

I guess I’m expecting her to at least be pleased with this. But her eyes are still cold when they lift from the mended bear to my face. She sets the teddy bear down on the grass.

“Kill her, Grath,” she says. “Kill her forever.”

And hard on the heels of those words, the teddy bear swells and grows and changes, from sweet toy to that giant grizzly I encountered when I first entered this world.

Tom Foolery said I was the Conjurer now, but it looks like I’m not alone. Mattie has enough magic in her to create a protector for herself.

What happens if I die here? What happens to Mattie and the other Eadar? Does the world end, or can it go on without me?

I think maybe it does. Go on, I mean. I’m not so egocentric as to think that it has to die with me. Maybe that can be my last conjuring, that the world goes on, no matter what happens to me.

Once upon a time . . .

The grizzly rears above, one enormous paw drawn back to strike me down.

Part of me doesn’t want to struggle. Part of me believes that I should just let the damned bear tear me apart. That I deserve whatever happens.

And maybe I do. Or, at least, maybe I deserve something. I should have to pay something for what I did to her.