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“What was stolen has been restored; what was
lost has come home again. I hail thee, Manon
Crochan, Queen of Witches.”
Manon stood fast against the tremor that
threatened to buckle her legs.
Stood fast as the other Crochans, Bronwen
with them, dropped to a knee. Dorian,
standing amongst them, smiled, brighter and
freer than she’d ever seen.
And then the Thirteen knelt, two fingers
going to their brows as they bowed their
heads, fierce pride lighting their faces.
“Queen of Witches,” Crochan and
Blackbeak declared as one voice.
As one people.