Tania’s body and mind were engulfed in amber flames. Her back arched, her arms spreading wide. She was hanging suspended in the air by Lear’s sorceries. There was no floor under her feet. There were no hands holding her hands.

A voice chanted through the flames.

Blue flames licked among the yellow, weak at first, coming and going, as though struggling to survive. But gradually the blue grew stronger until there was more blue than amber—until all at once the amber fire was snuffed out and Tania dropped jarringly to the ground, her legs collapsing under her.

“Tania!” It was Edric’s voice, calling from the doorway. “You have the strength! You must do it! I will hold Lear’s power in check for as long as I can—but you must strike him down.”

She stumbled to her feet. “How?”

“Take the crown!”

Lear’s voice roared like a furnace. “Never!”

Amber contended again with the blue, the flames like interlocked fingers struggling against one another.

Amid the flames Tania sought focus. She looked around herself. The six girls were with her in the amber fire, blazing with such light that they were little more than bleached silhouettes in the flames. But each stood alone and none were holding hands any longer.

Tania struggled to move her limbs—to gain some control of herself. It was like fighting floodwater. Every twitch of a finger or foot was bought only by huge effort. But she would not give up.

She turned her head. Edric stood just inside the doors of the Throne Room, bathed in blue light, Jade to one side, Rathina to the other. And from Edric’s outstretched hands, a geyser of blue fire was gushing toward her.

Together! She could hear Edric’s voice in her head now. Together we can defeat him!

“Yes!”

Tania waded forward into the amber flames, buoyed up by the blue-white light.

The six girls followed, forming a semicircle behind her, their potency guiding her, driving her forward as she came to the steps of the throne.

Lear was leaning forward now, his knuckles white as he gripped the arms of the throne, his face contorted and hideous as he fought against both the white and the blue light.

He stared at her as she stood in front of him, his head thrust forward, his lips drawn back in a feral snarl.

Supported by light and love, Tania reached forward, beams of white spinning out from her fingertips.

Lear’s eyes followed her, but he did not move—as though he was pinned to the throne by a force he could not overthrow.

He howled as she closed her fingers around the crown and lifted it from his head.

Words came into her mind and she spoke them aloud, the incantation pouring from her mouth on a shaft of light.

She lifted the crown high. “Ill fortune devour you, Prince Lear Aurealis! Thou art banished! Get you hence!”

Lear tried to rise from the throne, but before he could move, the world was engulfed in a discharge of power that sent Tania spinning head over heels through a universe of howling white light.

Tania stood in a place that was no place—in a white void. She was hand-in-hand with her other selves. She knew this was but a fleeting moment before the children were to return to their own worlds and to their deaths.

The princess stood opposite Tania. There was no hint or taint of illness in her radiant face, and her lilac Faerie gown was now fresh and lovely.

“We shall meet again, when desperate need calls . . .” said the princess. “ . . . one final time. . . .”

“Don’t be scared,” added Gracie. “We’ll help you.”

“In darkest noon,” said Ann, her eyes dreamy, her breath coming easily, “by a gray river with banks of solid stone in a world set all afire . . .”

The Six broke hands, and they were drawn back into the white void.

“Thank you,” Tania called after them.

She was alone now.

She gave a deep sigh and turned, sidestepping away.

Lear was gone.

Wreaths of white smoke floated through the Throne Room, half shrouding the damage and chaos caused by the Banishing Spell. The throne itself was smashed to stone shards, pieces of it scattered across the floor among the fallen and snuffed candles. The tapestries that hung over the walls were ripped to shreds. The tall elegant windows had lost all their glass, and cracks ran up the marble frames.

The only things undisturbed by the explosion of energy were the five amber prisons. They floated still in the upper air of the room, each with its pitiful captive.

“That’s what I call a firework display!”

Tania turned at the sound of Jade’s voice. Jade and Rathina and Edric were still by the door. Edric’s head was hanging.

Tania ran to him. “Edric?”

He lifted his head, his brown eyes unfocused, his face drained. “Is Lear gone?” he whispered.

“I think he is,” said Tania.

“Good.” With a weary smile Edric crumpled unconscious to the floor.

Jade dropped to one knee, two fingers pressed to the side of Edric’s neck. “Just feeling for a pulse,” Jade said. “There it is. Strong and clear.” She looked into Tania’s eyes. “He’s fine. Exhausted is all. He was pretty much wiped out before he made us bring him here.” She glanced around the wrecked room. “The boy did good, though.”

Rathina helped Tania to her feet. “Have the other six gone?” she asked.

“Yes.”

Rathina sighed. “This is a sad victory.” She frowned. “If victory it be. Lear is bested, I deem, but what damage has he wrought in Faerie?”

Tania turned to look at the five floating amber globes and the crumpled shapes within them. “We need Isenmort,” she said. Only the touch of Isenmort—of metal—could open the eternal prisons.

“I have none,” said Rathina. “I lost my sword on the beach under Tirnanog.”

“What’s Isenmort?” asked Jade.

“Metal.”

“I’ve got some spare change in my pocket,” she said hopefully, digging out a small handful of coins.

Rathina took them. “Come, sister, let’s play out the last act of this drama,” she said, striding down toward the smashed throne plinth.

Tania followed her.

Rathina positioned herself under the prison where Oberon was crouched. She tossed a coin into the air. It spun, glittering in the clear light that poured in through the broken windows. At the height of the toss the coin struck the underside of the floating ball.

It stuck to the amber shell, and within moments Tania saw gray tendrils spreading out over the amber. She strained her neck, watching the King as the ribbons of gray converged and spun out higher.

There was a crack like distant thunder. Fissures swept over the globe. A golden light poured out, and with it a booming, rejoicing voice.

“Free!” roared the King. “I am free!”

He stood on the golden air for a moment, stretching his cramped limbs. He looked at Tania and Rathina and smiled. He reached down and from the debris that was strewn across the floor, his crown leaped up to his hand, whole and unharmed.

“Father!” Rathina cried. “Praise the good spirits!”

“And praise the love and courage of a King’s children!” called Oberon, placing the crown on his head. He turned, stretching out a hand. Golden light bathed the remaining four amber prisons.

“Be free, my wife, my love. Be free, my children, custodians of my heart!”

The globes broke and dissolved, and Titania and Hopie and Eden and Sancha floated softly to the ground on clouds of gold.

Tania threw herself into their arms. She could do nothing more than hold her mother and her sisters and weep with joy.

As they stood there in the ruins of the Throne Room, crystal bells began to ring out from distant towers. The peal of the bells was picked up and answered from farther away, the glorious sound doubling and redoubling all along the vast expanse of the Royal Palace until it seemed to Tania that the whole Realm of Faerie was alive with a riotous chime.

Lear was banished and the Royal Family was free!