Whereby Trembling with Righteous Fear they Observed the Female enter the Roundhouse by Demonic Means and in the Companie of Various Imps and Familiars, and though not Rendered quite Insensible, were by this Strange and Hellish Magicke Prevented from all Interference.

The Female left the Roundhouse some short Time Later, followed by a Cloak’d Figure, closely Wrapt about, which did then Reveal itself as Guy LeMerle, throwing off its Disguise with Laughter and much Manifestation of Joy. The Witch then bestrode him a Pitchforke which had been left lying beside the Hay Stall and did Flye into the Air upon it, with many Mocking Cries to the Unfortunates Below, who did perceive various Spirits and Familiars in the guise of Birdes, Battes, and Owles, which did Join Him in his Flighte. Monseigneur the Bishop of Évreux will have it Known that Any Man with Knowledge of this Fellow, or of his Associates, should with all Speed Divulge this Knowledge, or any Suspicion which may be Had of his Whereabouts, that this Witch may be Brought to the Justice of God and the Church. A Reward of Fifty Louis is offered for any Such Information.

Well, I recall no familiars. Nor the mad flight upon the pitchfork. Doubtless the guards invented the rest to escape punishment. As for my part-yes, Perette, I was the Female with the lantern-I cannot explain it. And yet like you, I feel a reluctant gladness to know that he escaped. A vestige, perhaps, of my early loyalty, or a desire for an end to this long, long dream.

I had always known Giordano’s alchemies would serve me someday. The roundhouse, with its thick walls and barred windows, was far from certain, even for your explosive powders, but well placed, and with a fuse made from a length of powder twine leading to a central bolus, I felt sure it would serve my purpose. I approached the guards first, offered them ale and companionship, and picked their pockets neatly in the process. I could have cut their throats-the old Juliette might have done just that-but I wanted to avoid it if I could; I have seen too many cruelties to add to the number. As it was, the guards ran away the minute the powder blew: and my assessment of their cowardice led me to hope for at least two minutes before they returned.

LeMerle was still half asleep when I came into the cell, curled upon the straw with his ragged cloak around him. Better not to look at him, I told myself: simply leave the lantern and the keys and let him make his own way if he could. I saw him twitch like a wakening cat and turned to go, afraid perhaps that if I did not, then I might never find the courage to leave him again. But it was too late; he murmured something indistinct and held up his arm to shield his face, and, like Orpheus, I looked back.

Of course he had been tortured; I had expected it. I know what happens during interrogation. Even a full confession only counts under torture. His face, half-turned into the light, was a mask of filth and bruises. His raised hand was a talon, every finger broken.

“Juliette?” It was barely a whisper; barely a voice. “My God, what dream is this?”

I could not reply. Instead I looked at him on the floor on the roundhouse and I saw myself-in the cell in Épinal, and the cellarium of the abbey-and remembered how I had sworn eternal revenge, sworn I’d see him suffer. I felt a pang of surprise that the thought of his suffering did not satisfy me as once I had imagined it would.

“It’s no dream. Hurry, if you want to be free.”

“Juliette?” He was more alert now in spite of the ravages done to him. “By God, is it in very truth witchcraft?”

I would not reply, I told myself.

“My Winged One.” Now I could have sworn there was laughter in the tone. “I knew it couldn’t end this way. After everything we were to each other-”

“No,” I said. “You were born to be hanged, not burned. This is destiny.”

He laughed aloud at that. They might have clipped his wings, I thought, but my Blackbird still sang. I was startled to realize how much the thought pleased me.

“Why do you delay?” My voice was sharp. “Are you so comfortable here?”

Silently he held his chained wrists to the light. I threw him the bunch of keys.

“I can’t. My hands.”

Haste made me clumsy, and I must have hurt him as I unlocked the irons. But his eyes held me still, bright and mocking as ever. “It could be as it was, you know,” he said, grinning with the anticipation of triumphs imagined. “I have money hidden away. We could start again. L’Ailée could fly once more. Forget carnival, forget market-day venues-that trick of yours in the tower was worth gold-”

“You’re mad.” I thought so too. Torture, imprisonment, ruin, failure, disgrace…Nothing had yet touched that arrogant assurance of his. That look of not-to-be-denied. He never gave a thought to the possibility of refusal, of rejection. I picked up the lantern, ready to go.

“You know you’d love it,” he said.

“No.” I was turning already toward the door. We had seconds, at best, before the guards returned. And perhaps the harm was already done, that last glimpse of his face in the soft glow of the lamp printed in fire and forever onto my heart.

“Please, Juliette.” At least now he was on his feet, following me to safety. “All those years I was traveling roads, trying to find my way and I never knew where until now. All those times I worked toward something I thought I wanted, which turned out to be nothing more than a passing whim on the hunt for some other rainbow’s end; all those women I lusted for and trifled with and ultimately punished for being too short, or too soft, or too young, or too pretty-”

“We don’t have time for this,” I said. I shook his hand from my shoulder, but he could not be stopped, every word he spoke a new refinement of pain.

“Come on, admit it. Why else would you have come back for me? It was you, Juliette. Always you. It didn’t matter whether you loved or hated me, we’re two parts of the same. We fit together. Complete each other.”

Without looking at him, and with a terrible effort, I began to walk away.

“Stubborn! Haven’t I chased you long enough?” I could hear anger now, and a kind of desperation. My step quickened. I could see the half-open door of the roundhouse in the torchlight. I ran out into the cool air. I could still hear LeMerle behind me, losing his footing, cursing in the dark. My shadow ran before me like a wild thing.

“You fool!” He was shouting now, heedless of whom he might alert. “Don’t you understand? Juliette! Must I say it in as many words?”

I could not hear it. I would not hear it. I ran forward into the night, a rushing silence in my ears, though beneath the pressing of my palms I fancied I still heard him, a ghost of him, an echo of desire.

I fled fast and reckless out of Rennes. Only I knew that it was two hunters I fled. And Perette, if it is a sin to be glad, then we are sinners both, for the thought of a world without LeMerle in it somewhere seems to me to be no world at all. I will write to you, sweetheart, and send the letter on with next season’s travelers. Tend my herbs well, but grow no morning glories among them. Chamomile brings sweet dreams, and lavender sweet thoughts. I wish you both, my Perette, and with them all the love you deserve.