Leeli squeezed her mother's arm and held her breath. The Wingfeather family stood around Janner's body, with Artham, Oskar, and Sara, and the great winged dragons behind them, while Kalmar dipped a bucket in the well.

Leeli yearned to have Janner alive again—Janner the hero, the brave, the persistent, the scholar, the playful, her brother. He deserved to be a part of the new life they were building. Only the Maker can decide, though, she told herself. Podo, Esben, and Nugget were meant to leave them and maybe Janner was too. She needed to be at peace with losing him.

Kal knelt and gazed at Janner solemnly, a tear on his cheek. Then he wiped it away and a hint of mischief twitched at the corner of his mouth. Nia gasped as he splashed the whole bucket of powerful water in Janner's face.

"Pfff! What was that?" Janner blinked as he rolled up on one elbow and wiped his eyes. It was as sudden as a page flipped from one illustration to the next—his pale and withered form suddenly alive and sputtering, "What happened?"

Kalmar jumped up and whooped with a kind of hysterical, grief-splitting laughter. He sank to his knees again, pounded the ground with his fist, and then rested his head on Janner's knees. "Thank You," he said between breaths, "thank you."

Leeli stood open-mouthed for a moment before kneeling and hugging them both, and soon everyone was gathered in an embrace that lasted several minutes. They spoke of what had happened and what would happen, which was all a wonderful mystery. When they finally stood they saw that Janner had grown. He was nearly as tall as Artham, and only thirteen.

"The water," Nia sighed. "You'll be even more of a legend, son."

"If only I had wings," Janner joked, and Artham bowed his head. "You have allies with wings," he replied.

"You're going to love flying on a dragon," Kal said.

"Let's fly then! Let's see to that kingdom of yours!" Janner exclaimed, and arms around shoulders, he and Kal led the way back to the dragons. Leeli clasped hands with Sara and joyfully followed, but when they reached Hulwen, the dragon rumbled, "Aren't we forgetting something?"

Leeli looked around. Nia was still standing by the well, smiling knowingly. What are we forgetting? Leeli wondered.

"What are we forgetting?" Kal voiced.

Sara looked at Oskar, Oskar looked at Artham, and Artham looked at Leeli.

"Oh! Leeli!" Janner laughed. His eyes glistened.

Me? Leeli wondered, then gasped. Her leg! Could it be possible? To run, to leap, to dance, after a lifetime of accepting that she never would?

She dropped her crutch and let Janner scoop her up and twirl her around as they returned to the well. Kal dipped a cup and brought it up again, running o'er.

She took off her little shoe—it might not fit in a few moments. Kal sprinkled a few drops on Leeli's leg, and she felt a delicious sensation of growing and strengthening all down her leg. She watched her foot straighten and fill with muscle. She flexed it, then stood. Everyone was cheering, laughing or crying.

Leeli sang. Then she danced, and the others joined her, and a more joyful dance has never been done in Aerwiar.