“So,” he said finally. “You love me.”
“You loved me first.”
He hugged her tighter. “And don’t you forget it.”
There was a smattering of applause at Peregrine’s declaration. From the shadows and the fireflies stepped the figure of a thin young man with a quiver of arrows at his back and a bow slung across his chest.
“Trix!” Saturday ran and embraced her little brother, bow and all.
“Watch it, sister, you’re armed.”
She let her sword fall to the ground again. “I’m sorry,” she said.
Trix reached up, took her face in his hands, and kissed both cheeks. “I’m sorry too,” he said. “Will you ever forgive me?”
“Hmm.” Saturday scrunched up her face in thought. “Well, I’d make you promise to do the washing up for a month, but since I don’t think either one of us is going to see the towerhouse for a while, how about you just owe me one?”
“Deal,” said Trix. He spat in his hand and they shook on it.
“It is so good to see your face,” said Saturday. “I missed you.”
“Really?” asked Trix. “I didn’t miss you. You were with me the whole time.”
“Was I?”
“Oh yes. Every time I needed to be strong, I thought of you, and you gave me your strength.” He pointed to the blue-green band at her wrist. “And every time you needed my strength, I gave it to you. Didn’t you notice?”
Saturday ran her finger across the strip of fabric with her siblings’ hair inside it—even Jack’s, now. She had thought it was the magic of the mountain funneling through her the whole time she was imprisoned—and maybe it was—but it was her family’s strength, too. That strength and love had let her shift the ring back into a sword, once the Top of the World was a distant memory behind them. “I did,” she said. “Thank you.”
“Once or twice I swore I could even hear your voice,” said Trix.
Peregrine and Saturday exchanged glances, remembering what had happened in the cave of mirrors. It was probably best that particular room had been consumed by Earthfire.
“Amazing thing, magic,” said Peregrine. “I’m Peregrine, by the way.”
“Trix,” he said as they shook hands. “I’m the reason Saturday got into all this mess.”
“I fell in love with your sister in the middle of this mess,” Peregrine replied.
“Really?” said Trix. “Which sister? I have seven, you know.” Saturday grabbed Trix before he could get away and tickled him mercilessly, as they had done back home, before she’d broken the world. She didn’t know how much she’d needed that until just then. Who’d have ever thought that one day she’d long for a moment of normal life?
“How did you find us?” Saturday asked when they’d caught their breaths.
“A brownie told me,” said Trix. “A wild one, from a tribe I’d never heard of. He showed up at the Hill spouting all sorts of wild tales about dragons and witches and falling off a mountain. Said he was rescued by a bad-tempered giant in a skirt. I can only assume he meant you.” Trix examined Saturday from head to toe, and then Peregrine, in his long, full coat. “Then again, maybe he meant you,” he said to Peregrine. “Either way, I’m here. We need your help, Saturday.”
“I’m here to give it,” said Saturday. “Who’s ‘we’?”
“I come to you as the emissary of the Queen of Faerie,” Trix said in his noblest voice.
“Do you, now?” asked Saturday.
“I speak to the animals,” he said. “And for the animals.”
“So it’s the animals who need help?” asked Saturday.
“Yes. And the Queen of Faerie, too. And . . . well . . . pretty much everybody in the whole world.”
“Again?” said Peregrine.
Saturday sighed melodramatically. “Typical. You in?” she asked Peregrine.
“Always,” he answered.
“Same here,” said Betwixt as he emerged from the bushes.
“I’m headed in that direction anyway,” said Wolf.
“Saturday,” Trix whispered, “why didn’t you tell me you have a pegasus?”
Saturday planted a kiss on her brother’s cheek before he could cringe away. “Trixie, dear, I have a lot of new surprises. Do we need to leave now?”
Trix looked up at the clear night sky. “We can wait until dawn.”
Wolf’s eyes flashed yellow in the darkness. “Sassy and I don’t mind traveling through the night if you don’t.”
“Then let’s go!” cried Saturday.
Peregrine tugged at her elbow. “One quick thing.”
“Make it snappy.”
He pulled Saturday into his arms and kissed her soundly.
Somewhere on the forest floor, a sword shifted back into a ring. Somewhere above them, a silver moon danced among the clouds. Somewhere on a peak in the White Mountains, a dragon drifted lazily through the air. And somewhere on the borders of Faerie, Saturday Woodcutter embarked on a new adventure.
As their lips parted, Saturday smiled up at the gods. Those troublesome bards could sing all they pleased—she’d won her prince after all. She tossed her short hair in the forest breeze and laughed until two strong hands captured her head and turned it to the side.
“Ah . . . beloved?”
“Yes, dearest?”
“What on earth happened to your ear?”
Acknowledgments
Publishing is an interesting exercise in time compression and expansion. For instance, it took me almost five years to write Enchanted, but it took many of you less than a day to read it. Similarly, in between writing the dedication for Hero and the writing of these acknowledgments, my beloved grandmother, Madeleine DeRonde, passed away.
Much like Peregrine’s father, Memere suffered from Alzheimer’s disease—a terrible, horrible thing that sneaks up on you too gradually to notice until it’s too late. By the time my first book was published in 2006, Memere no longer remembered who I was. I still love her with all my heart and miss her every day. I know she would be proud of my silly, shiny books; I only regret not being able to share them with her in this life. So I am here to tell you all right now: Thank those heroes in your life, every single one, as soon and as often as you can.
I would first like to thank the female athletes of the London 2012 Summer Olympics and my sword-wielding angel Lillie Rainey for being personal inspirations for Saturday. Thanks also go out to the staff of Luray Caverns in Virginia—I couldn’t have created the Top of the World without you!
Big hugs to everyone who made my 2012 Summer Book Tour a reality—I am lucky to have so many friends that I consider family, and I’m honored to be the recipient of your support. Thanks once again to Adam, Turtle, and Josh of the Adam Ezra Group for seeing me off in style, and my undying love to Drew and Laura Williams, Edmund and Terry Schubert, Casey Cothran and Todd Muldrew, Soteria Kontis and Charles Nadolski, Vicki and David Castrucci, Cris Garrick, J. P. and Wendy Stephens, Darra Cothran and Bob Gahagan, Tillman and Laurie Smoot, Cherie Priest, Ken and Marilyn Harrison, David B. Coe, J. T. and Randy Ellison, and Chuck and Lillie Rainey for opening their homes to me as I went about my travels.
Janet Lee, whom I will always admire—thank you and Mike for letting me be your Comic-Con buddy. Thank you to all the members of my convention families, new and old—I would never be able to live without you. And thanks to my dearest Heather Brewer, Kate Baker, Mary Rodgers, and Leanna Renee Hieber for keeping my soul intact during dark times.
Huge mountains of gratitude also go to my crack team at Harcourt—especially Reka Simonsen and Jennifer Groves—for understanding my subversive sense of humor and putting up with all my emails. Nor could I have done all this without Deborah Warren, the best Fairy Godagent a princess could ask for, and Katherine Kellgren, who brought my characters to life in such a way that I fell in love with them all over again.