FROM THE PRIVATE PAPERS OF SEBASTIAN JAMES FAIRFAX

Waiting—waiting—waiting—

Waiting for the end.

I have lost count of the nights since I last saw you. But this night feels different. Something is going to happen. Something has changed.

This place is as cold as death. My limbs ache and my breath turns to clouds of ice. Winter, it must be, in the outside world where seasons still exist. When I was a boy I would wait for the first snows, as though waiting for a miracle—

Something is happening. The silence of this place is broken by the sound of the sea on a distant shore. I feel the waves breaking and beating in my heart. I sense you near.

Have you come back, my darling? Have you risked everything to return to this valley of secrets?

I will wait for you.

This night feels different.

A power has returned to Wyldcliffe, pulsing with life like the sun. The air is more alive. Everything is watching and waiting—

I am waiting for you. Do you still think of me?

What will be the next part of our story, Evie? Are you still hoping for a miracle? Do you dream that Agnes, the gentle healer, will reach across the void to touch me with her great gifts? I rejected her help long ago, and I fear she cannot help me now. But miracles do exist. This air. This darkness. The snow that lies all around this sleeping house. The stars overhead. How profoundly mysterious everything is! Not only the strange paths that we have walked, but the ordinary things that I took so much for granted. The earth under my feet. Every individual life: each tree, each bird, each child. Every precious soul—

They are all mysteries. We are surrounded by miracles.

You are my miracle.

So I will wait. I will hope. Here, in my darkness, I will lift my eyes to the sunrise.

I will wait for you.