Her hands went to them, touching their faces, one after the other, unable to believe this was real. "Inir didn't get to you."

"No," her mother whispered. "I've dreamed of this day for forty-one years, baby. I never thought I'd see it."

"Me either." Skye laughed and turned to look at Paenther. "Did you do this?"

He smiled at her, a suspicious moisture in his eyes. "I'd love to take the credit, but this was Lyon's doing with the help of the Shaman and Ezekiel."

She hugged her mother, then pulled away to go to Lyon and place a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you."

The big Chief of the Ferals nodded, warmth lighting his amber eyes. "You're welcome, Skye. But I have to admit, this was more than a little self-serving. Ezekiel?"

As Paenther drew her back into his arms, Ezekiel explained.

"After you were here, I did some checking and discovered your enclave disappeared soon after the soul-stealing began. About half the strongholds did." He winked at her. "I may be a hermit, but I'm a well-connected hermit. I found your mother and contacted the Shaman."

Lyon nodded. "Those Mage who oppose Inir have had to go underground. We've agreed it's time to join forces as we did five millennia ago if we hope to defeat this evil. This wouldn't have happened without you, Skye. We'd forgotten, after hating for so many centuries, that there have always been good, honorable men and women of every race. Your purity of heart and spirit reminded me of that. Reminded us all. Trust won't come easily. It never does. But with you as the bridge between the races, I have every hope that it will come."

"Sometimes you just have to trust your heart," Paenther murmured against her hair. He pulled back and looked down at her, pride and love shining from his dark eyes. "And my heart is yours."