I have taken too long in updating this story; the last part of it has proven harder than I anticipated to write, and what with one thing and another the time slipped away. I have not abandoned Will and Jane though – so I hope you enjoy this chapter and the final instalment still to come, although I can't quite promised how soon that will be… Thanks, always, to those of you who take the time to read and especially to review – it means more than I can tell you!

The music faded away from his ears and with a heart almost bursting Will reached out and pushed the doors open. They swung slowly at his touch, but with ease and lightness, despite their great age.

Beyond, within, there was darkness.

'Will?' Jane's voice was full of questioning wonder.

'I know.' His own was a little shaky. 'Let's see who's waiting for us inside.'

As their eyes accustomed to the cool dimness, they saw that a vast hall stretched above them. The storied hangings, half-hidden in the shadows; the ring of tall, pillared candles; the great fireplace blazing – all was as Will remembered it. And the best of all was to see the tall dark figure, robed in midnight blue, standing by the fire's side: the white hair still untamed, the hawkish nose, the strong-etched face the same as always.

For a moment forgetting Jane who stood just a little behind, swept up in the tide of gladness that rushed through him, Will cried out, 'Merriman!'

The two caught each other in a fierce embrace. Will found himself fighting down tears; there could be no other expression of the relief and joy of this homecoming.

Merriman looked down at Will, holding him by the shoulders at arms' length, searching the younger man's face. 'You have changed, Old One,' he said, gravely.

Will was briefly at a loss for how to reply; then he caught the twitch of Merriman's mouth and gave instead a sudden shout of laughter. 'Well. I suppose I have. It's been a long time in the world, after all.' He grinned up at his tall mentor. 'You, though – just the same. I can't-' he gestured helplessly '— I can't tell you how good it is to be here.'

'We welcome you home, Will Stanton – last of the Old Ones, Sign-Seeker, Watchman; home by the long road to the Circle at last,' Merriman said, and his words rang in the space as if many voices from unseen throats spoke with him. When the last whispering echo had died away, he added, 'There are many who will be glad to see you.'

Will could no longer hold back his question. 'Gwion?'

A slow smile crossed Merriman's face. 'He waits for you, Old One, as he always has done.' His eyes, dark in their deep sockets, moved past Will towards the end of the hall. 'But there will be time for such meetings later. For now, I think you should bring Jane to warm herself at the fire. She is surely feeling the cold, and there are things to say, and perhaps little time in which to say them.'

'Oh, no – Jane, I'm so sorry-' Will spun around, horrified at himself. 'I got completely carried away – come down here, you must be freezing.' He drew her forward from where she had been standing, shivering a little indeed, silently and with amazement watching his reunion with Merriman. And then it was her turn to be wrapped in Merriman's arms, herself hugging the tall spare form tightly; when she stepped back, her eyes were wet.

'It's good to see you,' she said huskily, and then laughed a little self-consciously. 'Although I don't know what to even call you, now… I guess Great Uncle Merry isn't really the thing, is it…'

'Merry itself will do as well as always,' Merriman said, and he gave her shoulder a squeeze. 'And here is another who wishes to greet you both, and to speak to you.' He gestured to a tall chair at the other side of the fireplace, which Will had not noticed when they had first entered through the Doors; but he recognised it, and its occupant, and immediately bowed to one knee.

'Madam,' he said reverently, for sitting there was the Lady. And she too looked just as she had the last time he saw her: the ageless pale face, the clear blue eyes her most striking feature; a gentle smile now on her lips and the beautiful rose-coloured ring on her finger.

…rising…rising…rising…

The sight of the Lady sitting in her chair startled Jane into speech before she could follow Will's respectful lead.

'It's you,' she said, then felt herself blushing at her clumsiness, but the Lady only bowed her head, still smiling gently, saying nothing yet. Jane's words tumbled on; memories of her searching younger self, looking always for the missing part of her being, flooded to the surface in a sudden rush. 'I thought you were a dream. I looked for you everywhere. But I couldn't remember – I didn't know what I was trying to find. I thought, sometimes, that I saw something, saw you somewhere… but they were only statues, in the end…'

'People have glimpsed me in many times and places,' the Lady said, softly, 'and some of their seeings are truer than others, and some seers also have the gift of bringing their vision to stone or wood or canvas, and thus of giving to others a vision of their own.' She rose, and took Jane's hands in her own, briefly; the skin was cool and papery, her grip was strong and full of life. 'And now here we both are,' and she turned to Will with a smile, adding, 'here we all are. For the first and last time, I think.' She released Jane's hands. 'Have you the token of the Wild Magic, Jane?'

Jane fumbled in her bag until she found the thin piece of lettered gold. 'I suppose this is what you mean?' She passed it to the Lady, who examined in carefully, then nodded.

'Then it is time.' The Lady looked to Merriman who extinguished, with a wave, the candles standing tall in their circle. His expression was carefully blank, Jane saw; she turned to Will with a puzzled look, but he merely shrugged, clearly as uncertain of what was about to happen as she was herself.

The only light now came from the fire; but then also from the golden strip that the Lady held in her hands, blazing between them to a white intensity impossible to look at directly. Looking away from the painful brilliance, Jane saw that the Doors had vanished; she felt with a twist of her stomach that the hall was floating like an enclosed island in an unknown sea, and even though there was no visible opening in any of its shadowed walls a wind was rising, growing in the room until Jane's hair whipped into her eyes and she staggered, clutching at Will to stay upright. The Lady was lost behind the brightness; Merriman was a black shape still as a standing stone save that his cloak thrashed and snapped about him, but his deep voice rose above the howling wind.

'By the Greenwitch's token the Light calls the Wild Magic to this place.'

And as suddenly as it had begun the wind dropped away.