The next day at breakfast, Rilian watches Peri teach Ileana how to use a spoon. She'd used a knife and both forks quite well, but Peri had (sensibly, Rilian realised) avoided the liquid dishes.

At least before today.

Ileana does not lack the grace to lift the spoon or keep it level; rather, she is fascinated with the liquid in the spoon, raising it to the level of her eyes, carefully moving it here and there to reflect the light. She tells Peri to imagine tiny ships sailing in the calm water, then blows on it softly to create ripples. She smiles and calls herself the storm.

Rilian smiles back, but he knows he's watching like a fool, so he looks away. He goes over the plans for the rest of the day in his head.

It was the day of rest for Narnia (hence cold soup for breakfast), so there was no court, no duties to fulfil, only groups of Narnians singing together mid-afternoon, and closing the day by telling stories of times the Lion had appeared. But the morning and early afternoon were often free for leisure activities, and he wanted to show Ileana something new.

After breakfast Rilian gets up, Ileana standing a moment after, but Peri catches her hand and Ileana pauses. Peri whispers something to Ileana, who listens with a faint frown. Rilian slows his steps, watching.

"If you wish it so," Ileana answers, her clear voice loud enough for Rilian to hear. "And if he agrees. He has not yet said no to anything I wished—except that which would cause harm."

Peri hesitates, mouth a little open, but then she closes it on whatever objection she'd been about to voice.

Rilian wonders if the he Ileana spoke of was himself, or Drinian.

As Peri pushes her chair away from the table, straightens her apron, and then walks straight to him, he thinks his question is answered quite quickly.

"Yes?" he prompts, when she stops in front of him but does not speak. She keeps her eyes down, and her hands keep twisting in her apron; he guesses she is too nervous to ask. "Is there something you require?"

Peri glances quickly behind her. "Lady Ileana is a mermaid," she whispers, shooting a look up at Rilian and then down at the floor again.

"I am aware," Rilian says slowly, not sure where the conversation was headed.

"I've never seen the sea—not up close. Holidays I go back to the forest, to family, that is, and I—I never made it down to the sea." She lowers her voice even further. "Can—can we go to the sea today? I don't have chores, and I'd—it would be fun if my first time at sea, I got to go with a mermaid. Ileana doesn't mind, not if you come too. Will you come?"

Rilian thinks of his plans, the thing he wanted to show Ileana, and decides they could be put off for a bit. Besides, it might be wise to spend more time in her company with others. He likes spending time with her, but doesn't want to raise speculation if they're seen together often.

"For a few hours of the morning, we may do so," he responds cheerfully. "Shall we be on our way?"

"Yes!" Peri agrees, her face coming up and her eyes glowing. She turns back and takes two running steps towards Ileana, stops, turns back around and bobs a curtsy, then runs to Ileana again. "He said yes! Ileana, I get to stand by the sea!"

"Oh, Peri, it is a sight to steal your heart." Ileana grabs Peri's hand and begins swinging it as they walk over. "I have seen but two things as beautiful, that dig so deeply into the soul of the one who sees. And you have seen one of those, for sure, for you have seen the stars in the sky."

"The sea is like that?" Peri asks as the two fall into step beside Rilian. He courteously opens the door for them, smiling to hear Ileana become the teacher and Peri the one asking the questions. "The sea always seemed a good deal more solid to me. But—"

She stops speaking, and Rilian looks down the hall to see the Calormene Ambassador approaching them.

"Oh hail, brightest barbarian King. I came this day to ask something of you, for I have heard of your generosity, being without measure, as the wisest of the poets say."

"What is it you would ask?" Rilian interrupts, having no desire to bandy words on a rest day.

"Merely to discuss the wish of the Tisroc (may he live forever), which he, in his wisdom, sent me to discuss, about the possible manning of Narnia ships with Calormene sailors. The benefits to both countries—"

"No."

"O wise and fair barbarian king, if you would let me explain—"

"It is a Narnian custom for one day in seven to be a day of rest, on which little or no work is done, unless there is an immediate need. If you will excuse me, guest of Narnia, I have plans to rest on the shoreline today. Aslan be with you." Rilian bows and walks past him, gesturing the girls forward as well. He frowns at the muttered curse he hears behind him, but does not turn. It is not a day for business.

"I don't like him," Peri says in a small voice, when they were far enough down the hallway they could not be overheard. "I—think he's cruel. I think when he wants something, he'll do anything he likes to get it. I don't know what he would have done, if we hadn't been interrupted when he was asking me questions."

"He will not come near you; if he does, I'll slap him with my tail!"

Rilian chuckles, hearing Peri give a small laugh as well. "If you are near him, you may call a guard to stay with you, if you wish. And you will never be rebuked for defending yourself, should something happen."

"And I suppose I cannot actually slap him with my tail, but I will still swim to your defence," Ileana assured her friend. But Rilian's mind moved to another topic.

"What kind of questions was he asking?"

"Questions about you, King Rilian. What made you happy, or likely to agree to a request. I think he needs this treaty badly. But I'm not really sure, I haven't served any ambassadors before," Peri adds hastily. "He just reminds me of my youngest brother, who screams when he doesn't get what he wants."

"I will keep that in mind."

"But not right now, for now we are on our way to the sea! Come, Peri. Let the waters wash away the fears you have, both of you." Ileana reaches over and takes Rilian's hand. He hesitates—very aware of her presence, her touch, but she holds Peri's hand as well, and perhaps they do this in the ocean, so that companions would not drift apart. He closes his fingers around hers, and she squeezes his hand for a moment before answering Peri's statement from before the Ambassador: "The sea is not solid. It is as large, with as many things dancing through it, and a music all of its own. To stand on the shore is to hear only its call—will you come swim with me?"

Peri does not answer immediately, and Rilian looks over to see her bite her lower lip. "I've only swum in a river," she admits.

"Then we must let the sea cradle you. Come, I will race you there!" And Ileana releases both hands, feet already learning to be swift, bounding away. Peri gives a shout of laughter and chases after, but Rilian knew he could be quicker than both.

He pushes his feet into the dirt and springs off, pounding the ground, jumping farther, taking larger steps. He passes Peri, passes two Squirrels who shout and come bounding after, passes the entryway where two guards sprang into a salute, and then, on the path, he can see the flash of golden hair and hear the trilling, breathless laughter.

He takes longer steps, pushing himself faster, dashing through the sunlight, the trees of Narnia, down the path to the sea. He passes her on it, hears her joking cry of frustration, and beats her to the shore.

He stands there, panting, looking at the sea. To his right, he knows, the ships are far down the beach, but in front of him is only the sand, the water, and the waves that break continually on the shoreline. The breeze lifts his hair, and he breathes it deep.

The sound makes him remember Ileana's hitched breathing but a few nights before, and he turns to see her stumble into the sunlight, feet working to hit the footprints he left in the sand, and he sees she is fine. She is gasping a little but smiling. He laughs and she laughs with him, and a few seconds later Peri stumbles out of the forest path as well. She gasps, her eyes fixed on the water.

"It's so much bigger this close," he hears her say to Ilana, still panting.

"Come and see it better yet!" Ileana demands, hand reaching to Peri's again and pulling her forward. Rilian falls in beside them when they approach, though he does not take Ileana's hand. There are too many people who might see, he thinks, and—she will be leaving soon.

The reminder makes him a little cold. He banishes it by watching the two take off their shoes, Peri takes off her apron and folds it, putting it underneath her shoes, and they walk into the water hand in hand.

Rilian watches, because he's suddenly uneasy. Peri walks into the water like she expects the bottom of it to bite her toes; steps hesitant, arms spread a little wide.

Ileana walks four large steps in, hair thrown back, and she falls.

Rilian is moving before he can think, towards the place she fell, the water still falling downwards from her splash, but then her head breaks the surface, golden hair wet and floating, Her neck is longer, he is suddenly aware, her arms raised towards the sky—and her back bent backwards at an angle most humans cannot reach.

He does not run, he will not run, but he goes to the edge of the water and looks beneath the surface.

Ileana's bottom half is a tail, opal and green, long, with delicate fins at the end, all of it resting on the sand.

Peri is exclaiming, though Rilian can't catch the words. He can't hear anything, can't take anything in, because suddenly Ileana has a tail—and she could swim away.

He can see her as she was that first night, arms spread wide, as much a part of the water as a star is part of the sky. She is back in the water now, a heavy human dress wrapped around her, and it looks like a child trying to wrap a cloth around the point of light hundreds of miles above them.

She does not belong here, he thinks. She does not belong.

She only planned to stay a little, Rilian reminded himself, reminded himself that they are six days into a visit of thirty.

But he sees her in the water. He sees her arm hitting the surface to splash Peri, drops flying around her, and a wave breaking over her back. She is at home. She is in the world she loves.

And maybe she won't come back out. Maybe he doesn't have thirty days with her; maybe today is goodbye.

The fears whisper that it's for the best, to look at her, this glorious, golden-haired mermaid, suddenly flipping herself out of the water like a dolphin, arcing in the sky over Peri's head, to look at where she belongs. If she goes back, she will be well, and Rilian will be safe.

His heart aches at the thought, already feeling the loneliness that will haunt odd moments whenever he thinks of her and she is not there.

He turns away, struggling to breathe himself, and closes his eyes. He thinks, reassuring himself, that she came out of the sea for him. Surely she will not leave yet. But he feels the sunlight on his skin, the breeze wafting over his arm and head, and hears the sound of waves, and wonders how she can leave something like this, for a world with land that pierces her feet and guards who lock her in a small room.

"Your Majesty?"

It's Peri's voice, and Rilian turns. "Yes?"

Ileana and Peri are both watching him, and something in his face must be different, for Peri shrinks back, eyebrows scrunching in confusion, but Ileana moves.

She cuts through the water like the prow of a ship, swimming with her tail till the water is too shallow to cover her body. Then she puts her hands down, pushes herself up, and begins staggering. Her tail had split in a few brief seconds, becoming legs. Rilian suddenly turns to the side and vomits.

It's not the same, it's not the same, he tells himself, heaving for a moment longer before he gains control. He knows it's not the same, but all he can see are the memories. Last time two legs fused into a green tail, becoming a serpent to attack. This is not the same.

He can see a large wave washing away the remains of his breakfast, and he kneels, the knees of his clothing growing wet, to catch up seawater and splash it over his face.

The cool wetness of the sea reassures him; the taste of salt water yanks him back to reality.

A moment later Ileana's hand is on his shoulder, water from her dress dripping on his back. "King? King, what is wrong?"

He shudders, scrambling to his feet and moving away.

She lets him, she does not chase him, but Rilian sees her fingers slowly fall to her side, hand open and helpless as he moves away.

The enchantress has never been helpless. Nor was a snake the same as a mermaid. They are different.

They only look the same.

"King?" she asks softly.

Rilian did not know what to tell her. But the truth, of course—both his parents had taught him to tell the truth, yet tell it softly. "I was overtaken by memories of the dark, lady of the sea." Lady of the sea, not lady of the dark. The dark they both knew, and both hated.

"Would you like to come into the water? It is warm, and gentle today, and very—very unlike the dark. But only if you would like," Ileana adds.

She is offering him a choice—and that is something the enchantress rarely did, and only about unimportant things. The choice gives him the courage to kick off his shoes, to take a step further into the water, and another, and another, following Ileana as she backs up. But when she falls back into the water he turns, looking at the horizon rather than her changing legs.

"King, and Peri, would you swim with me?"

"Swim where?" Rilian has to ask, has to know—and has to stay close to the shore. Just in case.

Follow me, follow me; you will be my captive, my love, my tool.

Ileana hesitates, eyes sweeping the shoreline—what are you looking for—and lights on a place where the river flows into the sea. "There! There's all kinds of games to play where the water's current is strong. Come, and do not worry, I will not let you drown!"

That is close to the shoreline, so Rilian follows her, arms stroking forward, and settling a little bit more as he proves he can move himself cleanly and quickly through the water. Ileana stays mainly with Peri, flashing in front of her, diving below and lifting her up when a wave smacks into her, and sometimes pulling her at speeds the maid cannot achieve on her own.

And Rilian remembers Drinian saying look at who she chose for a friend, and Rilian does—and breathes a little easier.

They do not play long at the mouth of the river, for Rilian still tenses when the sunlight glints off the mermaid scales, and Peri talks about going home to her family. It is only half an hour later that they beach, and walk back to their shoes, letting the sunlight dry their sandy, wrinkled clothes.

They go to their own rooms to change, and then Rilian meets Ileana at the stables. Still uneasy, he worried about being short with her. But her face when they enter the stables radiates unease of her own, and Rilian finds it easy to be gentle, the memories of his own fear making him patient with hers. He says little as they walk around the courtyard a few times, her astride Clip, but he keeps his hand on her knee. He knows by her relieved, half-scared smile that she is grateful. They take a turn around the outside of the castle, and, as long as she can keep her attention on the horse instead of on the trees and Animals, she becomes a little more confident. So Rilian calls for his own horse, and Ileana asks where they are going.

Rilian pauses, turning back to where she sits. She asks the same words he asked on the shore, but not as he did, with wariness. She is eager and curious. The contrast stings him.

But he is, after all, doing this for her, and for a time of rest for them both, so he just smiles. "It is a surprise, lady of the sea."

She accepts that answer as he would not have, and moments later Rilian mounts. He stoops to tell the stablehand to tell Drinian where they are going—just in case—and he and the mermaid leave.

He keeps the pace slow as they ride through the forest, staying close, but Clip does not stumble, and Ileana has learned to be careful of how she twists in the saddle. Greetings fly at them from the treetops, from behind the trunks, and from under bushes, and Rilian is kept busy explaining about the different kinds of animals. He learns much about the kinds of fish that dwell below the sea, and it satisfies a hunger in his heart.

An hour into the ride the trees grow closer together, with rare patches of sunlight turning green to gold, and the forest grows quiet. Rilian loves this part of the ride, when the cares and expectations of his kingdom fall away, but he keeps a careful eye on Ileana's face. He does not know if this will remind her of the dark she encountered.

It does not seem to, for with careful balance she raises her hand and brushes away the limbs of trees, letting her fingers linger on the leaves.

"They do not feel like anything I have felt before," she says with soft wonder. "If I knew I could touch them by riding a horse, I would have been much quicker to ride."

"How are they different? Here, watch for this branch—"

"Thank you. The plants under the sea—the water makes them hard or makes them soft. Coral does not budge under the palm of my hand, it stays firm or cracks. Seaweed, which is soft, will wrap itself around me if it can reach my tail or arms. But this plant—a leaf, Peri called it—is itself, yet it moves with my lightest touch."

"Peri should show you the flowers in the garden. Have you been there yet?" Rilian asks, reaching up to pull an oak leaf off a tree and hand it to her. She takes it with a nod of thanks, turning it over and over in her fingers.

"I do not think so. Will you join us when we go?"

Rilian hesitates, and her face falls, her eyes looking down to her saddle. "I do not know if that is wise, lady of the sea," he says, as gently as he can. They have not addressed the words she spoke when she first rode, but now they hang in the air between the two. "You are staying but twenty-four more days, and I will already miss you when you leave. It will be good for you to have more things you love on the land." Because it might bring you back to visit another time, Rilian thinks but does not say.

"Please, King, if you would—I just have these remaining days. I understand that's all you can give me, and that even in them you are still a King, but all the time you can give me—I came to the land for you."

Rilian does not like that she will not look at him, that he can hear the tears hovering on the edge of her tone, and if all she expects is the thirty days, the twenty-four days, then perhaps he can give her that.

The wary voice in his mind points out he's compromising his principles for her, that his bending is not a good sign, but he tells it that mercy is a good thing in a king, and so far she has done nothing to deserve such suspicion, not really. And he cares for her too much to listen to those fears, when they have no basis.

"I will spend all the time I can with you," he promises instead, and somehow it's easier to breathe when she looks up at smiles.

It was hard to breathe when she was angry with him, and he found himself prostrate at her feet, begging her not to be angry, to forgive him—

But Rilian wasn't begging. Rather, Ileana begged him, and Rilian shifts in the saddle, his horse sidestepping, as he realises that.

"Your horse, King!"

"Do not worry," he tells them both, reaching forward to pat his stallion's brown neck. He regains his control. "Be calm."

Ileana waits, letting him bring the stallion back to a placid walk, and then begins turning the oak leaf over in her hand again. Rilian notices she has something else clenched in her left hand, and sees a little bit of blue stone—the one he had bought for her at the marketplace.

He smiles to see her still carrying it, valuing it, and suddenly he is glad that she'll have a little bit of the land to take back with her to the sea. And glad that he's taking her someplace she'll love, where perhaps they can pick up another stone, create another memory, and give her another gift.

They reach the clearing half an hour later, dismounting to enter it and tying the horses with loose reins so they may graze. Rilian pushes back the branches and hears her exclaim a whispered Oh as they enter the perfect circle. In the days of the Telmarines that his father told him about, the Dryads had made this clearing. Sunlight pours into it, the grass has grown as tall as his ankle, and flowering vines wrap each tree trunk on the edge. Through the middle there runs a stream, gurgling and laughing in the sunlight.

"I can hear the water," she says breathlessly, looking around. "Where is it? I have never heard a voice like this!"

"In the middle of the—do not fall in!" he calls, for she had begun running—how she loves to run!—towards the sound. She stops and walks forward with careful steps, her eyes on the ground. When she can see it, she laughs.

"It is so small! I can—I can step over it!" She does, striding across it with one swift step. She spins, almost dancing, and kneels beside it. She puts one hand on her side of the bank, and reaches over to touch the other, and laughs again. Her laughter blends with the stream, the two of them chuckling together, and Rilian feels his heart swell. His own laughter joins the sunlight and he strides to where she is, kneeling on the other side of the stream. He looks at the bottom, at the rocks worn smooth, and plunges his hand in the cold water to scoop up a white one that sparkled. He lets the water wash over it, cleaning it of mud, and then hands it to her.

"Another part of the land to keep with you, lady."

She smiles, taking the rock from his hand, and then suddenly her other hand darts down, into the stream, and she brings it back up to shower water over him.

He gasps, the cold shocking, but then grins back and brings his own, much larger hand down and splashes her back. They fight till they both are dripping, rolling on either bank, hands reaching down and splashing. Despite his larger hands and greater reach, Rilian cannot match the mermaid's ability to scoop up water, and at last he flings himself down on the bank, still laughing.

"I yield!" The words echo on his tongue for a moment, and he realises what he said. But after the laughter, the nonsense of the past minutes, they dismiss his fears. The Witch of the Green Kirtle would never have let herself be drawn into nonsense; in the sunlight, when Rilian does not feel like a king or like a figure of importance, his fears seem foolish. He glances over, and sees Ileana lying on the other bank, the water between them. He glances down, and sees she still has legs, her feet poking out of the dress's white hem.

"You did not change back," he says, letting the words out lazily, without thinking about them.

"Back?"

"You do not have a tail."

Ileana glances at her own feet and shakes her head, her hair rumpling on the ground.

"How do you change?"

She does not answer, and Rilian feels his smile leave. He does not like that she has secrets. "Is that another thing you cannot tell me?"

"I do not know," and he sees her fingers start plucking at the long grass, and he thinks, how human. But she only pauses for a moment before saying, "It is not specifically prohibited, so—I think I may? But—I trust you, King. Please do not tell anyone else. Except Drinian, I trust him too."

"Not Peri?" Rilian asks, for he is surprised.

"Oh, Peri would not intentionally do me harm! But I do not think she knows much of secrets, not yet, and may not know how to keep one."

"Ah," Rilian responds, for he does understand. When she does not speak again, waiting, he promises, "I will not tell this to any other than Drinian, unless it should become necessary."

"Thank you," she says, seriously, and he realises how hard this is for her, this giving away of secrets she does not know if she should share. "To be splashed with water, or to be wet, is not enough. But if a mermaid or merman is covered in water up to their waist and stays there for a full breath, their tail forms. If the water is not enough to wash over the tail constantly, their legs form. Legends says that Aslan gave that gift to a merman prince. He—I sought the sky, so I liked his legend some, but he sought the land, instead of the sky. He jumped over rocks, over small islands, over boats, always seeking to see more of the world he could not reach. His parents commanded him to cease, for it was dangerous for fish to love the land. But he was headstrong and would not." He sees her lips curve upward. "My parents repeated that line quite often when they told this tale."

Rilian laughs. "My father did much the same with lines from our own legends. But please continue the merprince's story."

"One day he jumped over an island too large for him, and he landed on it. A jagged spear of rock speared his tail, and he could get it free. He sat there in the sun, the water on him drying out, and cried out to the Lion, afraid. And the Lion heard his prayer, as the Lion hears all prayers of His children, on land or under the sea. And the Lion split his tail in two, and the merprince cried out in fear. But the Lion breathed on the split tail, and it became legs. He waited while the merprince learned to move them, letting the prince lean against the Lion's own body. But as the merprince walked on land he found it hard, for the rock hurt his feet, his legs ached, and he had none of the grace of the water. He tried to jump once, and fell flat and bleeding. The Lion did not heal his wounds, but watched. After many hours, when the prince had paced the entire rock many times, the prince tried to jump back into the sea. But the Lion stopped him, and asked how he would swim without a tail. The prince sat and began crying. The Lion reminded him to think before he jumped, and then pushed the prince off the rock, promising him a tail back. When the prince submerged the salt water stung his wounds and reminded him of his foolishness, but Aslan's promise was true: his tail grew again. Since then, all merfolk are able to walk on land."

Rilian let the silence sit for a moment, thinking. "I confess, the more I know of your world, the more I am the opposite of your prince. It is easy to long for the sea, having heard of the way you see it." Ileana did not respond, but the silence felt comfortable.

After a while Rilian puts his arm under his head. He hears grass rustling, and turns to see Ileana mirroring him. "I had thought, lady, to be back at Cair for the telling of stories and singing. But would you be content, since you have told a story of Aslan, to remain here? I find I do not want to move."

"Stories and singing?"

"'Tis a rest day. In the afternoons we gather to tell stories of the deeds of the Lion, and then we close the evening with singing songs of Him."

"I am content here, King. But not quite content with the stories. I told one—will you tell another?"

"A story of Aslan?"

He hears the pause, the consideration of her words. "Yes. I—can tell something made you very much afraid this morning, in the water. I think telling a story of Aslan, a story of you and Aslan, might banish those fears, especially when the light grows dim at night." But the hesitancy in her voice lets Rilian know he has a choice, that she will not insist on this.

For a few moments he thinks and feels; he feels the fear, fear of telling her too much, fear of being forced to relive the years he still hates, warring with the knowledge that she has, so far, brought things back to the light every time. And she is right about speaking of the Lion.

"Twenty years ago, my mother and I went riding, to enjoy the good land of Narnia. But a snake crawled out of a fountain and stung my mother…"

He closes his eyes as he tells it, as the story spins on, for he is also afraid of her reaction. She has also known the dark, but she had merely followed music till it led her wrong; he had followed his own anger, and he knows it. He'd lost his sword, his freedom, the last ten years of his father's life, and had served his mother's killer. The Lion had forgiven him, rescued him, and brought him back to be a king once more—but Ileana may not have known how much Rilian was to blame.

"The Lion guided the two of the children from another world, the Marshwiggle, and myself to the very exit to Narnia, and we came out from the dark into the moon-lit snow, laughter, and Aslan's people."

Rilian still remembered that moment, the moment he left the land of slavery and walked into the place that would always be home. Suddenly everything had been right, and he was both home and who Aslan had meant him to be—and that was a freedom he still tasted on his tongue.

"Aslan's ways often make me smile." Ileana's words ripple over him, a clear stream of sound as she muses. "He took one of the gloomiest of the Narnians, and that was the Narnian who remembered the light, when all was dark."

Rilian turns and props his head on one hand, looking at her. She is still thinking, but he shakes his head in wonder. The dark, his faults, the wickedness dwelling under the ground—and what appeals to her most is the humour in Aslan's plan.

She glances over and moves herself to mirror him once more. "Shall I sing?"

"What?"

"We have told stories of Aslan. But singing is also a part of this day, didn't you say?" Rilian nods, and Ileana begins to sing.

Rilian has heard mermaids singing twice. Ileana's voice is as pure, as piercing, wild and rhythmic as a wave, as clear as the stream, and filled with the longing of the sea. But she sings of all Aslan created on the land, the ships that tower above the beach and yet float on the water, the food on white glass circles, running and the wind. She sings of the Squirrels, Drinian, Peri, and Rilian. She sings of thanks for sunlight that grows stronger on land, for leaves that are themselves, for blue and white rocks. She sings of the place where the sea meets the shore, and how her heart loves that place, for it holds both worlds, and Aslan is over all.

Rilian listens to her sing for hours, entranced.

It is only when she ceases that he becomes aware that he is also uneasy. Perhaps it was how deeply the song caught him, or perhaps it is something else, but he feels as if someone was watching them.

But she sings one song more, a song of thanks for the stream and its clear water, its littleness and yet its unending joy. After she lets her voice fade away, the song ending, Rilian takes them back to their horses, and they ride for home.


A/N: Guys, I can't write a chapter this long for the remaining twenty four days. I have other stories to get to! Rilian, Ileana, stop this!
or not, because I do still want it to be a good story, and those take time. But seriously. 5,700 words for one day? Do you have to?
I'm restricting you all in the days ahead.