Kire almost laughed aloud at his answer to her. ‘Tag along’ was an understatement. She squeezed his hand gently as she shook it before letting go. She waited for the Kartaian to rise, noting with amusement that he had as much of a fondness for being roused too early as she did. “Aw. I’d like to disagree. The wine wasn’t bad at all,” she commented, grinning as she stood up, bracing against the wall. “I’m sorry to wake you, but I won’t be bothering for much longer. I’m heading home in a little bit, and I’d just like to say my farewells now before I change my mind and drink the whole week away here.” She would have shaken the elf’s hand, or even offered an embrace, but he looked like the biggest grumpy cat curled up in bed the way he was. “Thank you for the hospitality. Hopefully your two new additions don’t give you too big of a headache. I’ll come visit when I can.” 

After Envy acknowledged her goodbye, Kire turned, about to leave, then glanced at Ruli again. She offered a small smile and raised her hand in one more farewell before walking out of Envy’s chamber. Afterwards, she hunted down Ysaryn, told her she had just been to Envy’s and saw Ruli there. “Take care, Chieftess. Hopefully it won’t be too long before I come back and see you.” Like with Ruli, she offered her hand to shake. Finally, she found Gavin still in the kitchen, though much more awake than earlier. “You.” She looked seriously at him. 
“You’re going,” he commented. He gave her a small smile. “See you next time, then.” 
Kire nodded. “Be good. Alright?”
“I’ll try.” 
“That’s the most we could ever do,” she said. 

She walked out to the forests one more time, taking her time. She wondered for a moment how Zeke was, what Aeron was doing. Finally, after wandering alone and savoring the peaceful mountain air, Kire opened a portal for home. 

It was midday in Amria, too, when she stepped out, winded, into the manor Elva had kept as lady of the Northern provinces. Instead of her own room—or, more properly, the room Elva kept for Kire’s use whenever she returned there—Kire emerged in a library just outside Janes’s room. Her cousin, who had been spending the day reading reports and, as was typical of her, frowning in thought, immediately stood at first sight of the blue portal.
“Good gods! Kire! What happened? Here I was preparing a eulogy for you,” she snapped, then stopped, seeing Kire’s face. Tears were falling from her already red eyes, and she stumbled towards Jan, pulling her into a trembling embrace, burying her face against her shoulder. “Kire?” she asked, her voice much less harsh this time. 
Kire only held tighter, her body shaking with sobs. “He’s gone. Finally. He’s gone, Jan. I—I—” [i]I almost died,[/i] she thought, unable to say it out loud.  [i]I almost lost you all.[/i] 
Jan returned the embrace. “Tell me later, Kay. Just rest for now.” That could wait. All of it: the questions she had about what had happened in the other world, her worries—and the reports she had been reviewing. For now, they were just two cousins reunited. If the last six months taught Jan anything, it was to savor any moment that Kire came back home alive.