“Nice,” said Rochelle, glancing over the interior of the chapel. Her wary eye caught in the upper corner, where an intermittent hammering sound told them that Aggie was putting the finishing touches on the roof. “Very nice.”

“She’s safe,” Jeremy reminded her for the third time in ten minutes.

“I know, I know.” Rochelle looked around again, taking in the pews, the carvings, the simple stonework, and dropped her voice. “I still don’t understand how some people could just walk away from this. It’s a beautiful way to worship.”

“Me either,” Jeremy replied in a whisper. “I guess the sacrifices started to freak them out.”

She smiled and shook her head, but when she spoke again, her voice was oddly serious. “Some people think that when they’re willing to change who they are that things will get better… and only later do they figure out that what they wanted to change had the ability to make them happy all along, they just didn’t know it.”

Jeremy looked at her. They clearly weren’t just talking about the Order and the clan anymore. “Do you feel that way about coming here?”

“What, that I changed something that didn’t need to be changed?”

“Yeah.”

“No.” Her gaze was steady. “Do you?”

“No,” said Jeremy. “This was… is… the right thing for us.”

Rochelle gave him a sudden smile. “I think so, too.”

“Here,” said Guibert, surfacing from beneath the altar. He had a massive book in his arms, a huge, gaudy thing crusted in gold and gems. It was several inches thick, and the parchment was burnt a deep brown. “Something like this?”

Rochelle looked about ready to faint. Jeremy put a hand on her shoulder to steady her. “Yes,” she managed. “If that’s okay.”

He gave her a single nod. “Certainly. Would you like to examine this in the library?”

Rochelle trembled. “Yes, please!”

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

“Hold up.” Jeremy stared at him. “There’s a library?!”

Guibert shot him a pointed look. “For those who can be trusted, yes.”

“I can be trusted,” Jeremy spluttered. “I weeded your garden, for Christ’s sake—”

“Don’t argue with the monk, Jeremy,” said his mom. She gave his arm a squeeze and crossed the chapel, joining Guibert. “And don’t bother me for a few hours.”

Jeremy rolled his eyes but let them go, and he wandered outside instead.

Colin was standing next to Amalga’s front paw, looking up at Aggie. “Did your mum explode?” he said, once Jeremy was in earshot.

“Basically.” Jeremy slumped down onto the grass, closing his eyes. “My mom chose books and the fancy secret library over me. Please boost my ego.”

“Hold on,” said Colin. “Secret library?”

Jeremy let out a groan, his arms falling over his face. “Not you, too.”

A moment later, a tap on his arm made him peek out, squinting against the sun. Colin was leaning over him, smirking. “At least you’re not dusty and made out of parchment.”

“Thanks,” said Jeremy. “I feel so much better.”

“All right?” Aggie called out. She’d clearly finished the roof, and she clambered down Amalga’s tail just as Amalga let out her usual whirring noise. “Or is Jeremy having one of his Tennesee Williams moments?”

“Unclear,” Colin called back, but he sat down in the grass next to Jeremy, knocking his knee into Jeremy’s calf. He had hay on his socks from the animal pen and splashes from the last batch of mortar drying on the sleeve of his t-shirt. “Maybe if we sit and watch him—”

“I like this plan.” Aggie plopped down next to Colin, pulling off her gloves with a groan. “I’m gonna miss doing all this DIY. Now it’s back to A-levels.”

“Could be worse,” Colin replied. “We could have another relic to find.”

“Point,” she said, grinning, and looked at Jeremy. “What d’you think, Jer? You scared about going to school, facing all those big, bad exams?”

Colin turned to look at him, too, giving him that look of his, the look that said so much and just enough all at once. He was beautiful like this, golden and tired in the sun.

Jeremy let his hand fall to the grass, his fingers brushing Colin’s arm. This summer, he’d met a two hundred year-old monk, a five hundred year-old dragon. He’d survived learning how to swim, rebuilding an ancient monastery, angry chickens, clarinet auditions, and being three thousand miles away from his best friend. So he looked back at Aggie and Colin, and he grinned. “I don’t know. How bad could it be?”

THE END