In all the months she’d been on the road Stray had never really cried.

Not when that first kiss she’d shared with Lord David had gone so horribly, terribly wrong. Not when her father yelled at her and beat her for not being what he wanted her to be. Not even when Mephisto had attacked her wearing Logan’s face had she truly broke down though nobody would have blamed her-

But in this moment, with the Child Phoenix staring at her in its mixture of calculation and pity, Stray felt the weight, the sorrow of all that and more press down onto her, squeezing her heart like a fist within her chest until she thought she might crack open. Might spill everything she was out into the world. And so she cried.

She cried so long and so hard she feared she might never stop.

She shuddered as she felt the tears scald and start their way down her cheeks. She cried as she remembered all that had been done to her, all that she had lost and why. It felt as if every ounce of feeling were pouring out of her, the emotions too volatile to ever possibly check: All she had been was coming to an end, it seemed like. And all she might become was a mystery she could not possibly glimpse. The thing-without-words inside her howled its baleful call as if mourning the passing of the spring maid she’d been and still she cried, though her throat ached and her shoulders shook and her breath caught from the force of it-

But this was a process Stray could not hope to halt and she knew it.

It felt strange not to be able to tell whether she was mourning or finally letting go.

She heard the Phoenix Child’s slight hiss of breath through it all, the sound triumphant and eager though it seemed very far away. The frozen world of Illyenka’s chambers wavering, the tears making everything run and swim together. Making everything turn golden and twisted and coal-into-smoke-bright. Illyenka’s domain seemed to bleed into itself like a scribe’s wet, unset inks, every image molten and liquid, her friends and enemies alike starkly illuminated. Their forms broken into shards of light like bits of coloured glass. Their battle a tableaux, a rose-window like the ones Lord David’s father had gifted to her father’s house when she was but a girl. Stray thought she heard breaths being taken, thought she saw the Company of Miracles moving. Thought that perhaps the world was waking up again after the Phoenix had enchanted it, though she couldn’t really be sure. Her body was still trembling, quaking with the force of her sobs as every ounce of emotion, of fear and hurt and anger and worry erupted out of her-

And then suddenly someone’s arms were around her, rocking her.

She didn’t need to see him to know that it was Logan who held her now.

“Hush, my cariad,” he whispered, “Hush, my little trouble-begot. Don’t cry, there’s no need to now, I promise you-”

Despite her best intentions Stray felt the sobs get worse.

“What did you do to her?” Logan was snarling at the Phoenix now. “What hex-craft have you worked on her?”

“I have shown her how to heal all that has gone astray,” the creature answered him. Her voice was low and bell-like as she spoke, the voice of a little girl no longer. It made the hair on the back of Stray’s neck rise. “Have faith in your lover and her heart’s innocence,” the Phoenix was saying. “Have faith and all will be well, Logan Silver-Arm, you must put your trust in her...”

“My trust in her is without measure.” Even without being able to see him properly Stray could hear the bared teeth in his tone. “My trust in you however is well-nigh intangible. And if you have hurt her-”

Stray heard the sound of skin tearing, recognised the early moments of his transformation.

He was in earnest as he threatened the Phoenix, as he threatened the Maker and Slayer of Stars.

It was this which finally allowed her to stop crying: The thought that he needed her to keep him safe finally sealed her sorrows back inside her skin. “Logan,” she managed to croak out, “Logan, stop it.” And Stray forced herself to take a deep breath, the intake of air setting her chest to fresh aching. Blinking, the tears running down her face even as her sobs finally came to a halt. She managed to pull one of her hands up to her eyes and she felt the hot, wet tears smear it; She realised how she must look to him and that she must calm herself if she had a hope of soothing him in turn. “She told me crying were necessary to save you,” Stray whispered softly, her small hands, still wet, reaching out to trace his features. “The Phoenix said that if I wept all would be put to rights again…”

“Your tears can never be right, Stray.” And his fingers travelled the path of her jaw, his hand tucking a single lock of hair behind her ear. She felt his nose ghost down to nudge gently along hers, the touch electric and teasing, too brief to set off her Curse. The thing within her purred. “You should not weep,” he was saying, “You were not meant fer it-”

“Neither were you. But sometimes we do what needs to be done.” And Stray laid her hand against his cheek, careful to keep her fingers against his beard. She could not bear the thought that she would hurt him, after he’d already been through so much. “She told me to weep and that all would be well: I believed her.” She had leaned over and was whispering in his ear now, her voice little more than a puff of breath over the ache in her throat. “Did she lie?”

For a moment Logan paused and then he shook his head. “No,” he said, his voice scratchy, “I don’t believe she did. Look around you, cariad.”

And he shifted so that Stray could see over his shoulder, finally taking in the room about her with eyes that did not swim with tears. What she saw she could barely believe: Illyenka’s domain was bright and golden, the infernal pall which had hung over it seemingly dissipated now that she had cried. The aching-with-memory walls shining and bright and new-built, the fires she had seen dancing across the walls bright as sunlight new-born. Stray looked at her wet hands, soaked with her tears and as she did her eyes followed a tiny globe of liquid falling from them, splashing onto the flagstones almost like a raindrop. The tear spattering apart, dispersing, turning wherever it landed molten and golden, streaking it with possibilities like rain. Like hope, that rare, precious, newly-feathered thing. The salt-water flowed everywhere in rivulets, melting and ink-like. Making the world of the Hollow Empress look like nothing so much as a drawing that had not yet begun to dry. It seemed wonderful, and impossible, and unlike anywhere Stray had ever seen before-

And yet…There were still some things which were constant. The Company of Miracles and Illyenka’s goblyn men were standing where they had been, though their weapons were no longer raised, their faces now puzzled rather than battle-eager. Sebastian Shaw was holding Emmalaine in his arms, her white-clothed body streaked with blood and violence, her blond-white hair brushing past his knees and matted with dirt and gore. Gainsborough had his blue arms wrapped around Katherine Shadowskin, her youthful face pressed against his shoulder even as Emmalaine’s silver-skinned guard- Kitty’s former husband, Stray remembered- blinked and tried to touch his wife. Her movements away from him making him implore her softly, his face as ashen as only a man in love’s can be. Everywhere the signs of Illyenka’s and Gold’s hex-craft was visible: Shaw’s mechanical servants were blinking at one another, their clock-work limbs held before them in wonder, some of their number weeping against their men folk while others snarled and swore. The living, moving cage in which both Illyenka and Mistress Gold had attempted to keep Stray and Logan had disappeared, nothing left of it but a pool of silver and bone at Shaw’s feet; As Stray watched it writhed and bubbled for a moment and then the molten metal hissed and turned to steam as a single drop of her tears touched its mass. The scene seemed slightly unreal: Those who had been harmed were healed, even Remy. Those who had been transformed by magic were now free of it, even Kitty’s husband and Emmalaine Frost. In fact, the only creatures who did not seem transformed were Mistress Gold and Illyenka, though the latter was nowhere to be seen so Stray could not be sure of it-

As if drawn by this thought Gold’s eyes came to rest on Stray, her face a mask of rage and powerlessness and anger. Instinctively Logan tried to move to shield her-

The girl however looked on her rival for the first time without fear.

“You shrike-born little whore!” Gold snarled at her then, making to ram straight into her rival. Hands raised and claw-like, her expression terrifying to see. Stray however was strangely unmoved; The fear she had once felt for Gold somehow seemed very far away now. In fact, she didn’t even try to move away from the other woman’s attack. She knew that if Gold touched her she would be able to defend herself; She knew now that the only power the sorceress truly possessed was the will to manipulate and harm. For as she stared at the world around her, the world her tears seemed to have made anew, something had occurred to Stray, something she’d never considered before. Could it be that all women, even spring maids, had the power to protect what was theirs within them? she wondered. Could it be that she had had the power to protect herself all along?

Her eyes darted to Ororo and she remembered the huntress’ words in the Wolf Mother Cave so long ago. The thing-without-words within her growl its approval at such a notion and in that moment she knew- knew- she was right.

Because that was the only reason she could surmise for the effect her tears had had: The Phoenix had said that of the Heavenly Substances Three she was salt, and salt was the thing which binds. The thing that hold everything else together. The thing which survived Lord David and her father and the road and nearly losing Logan. The thing which even now was holding this new world together, at least until it became solid enough to keep its shape on its own. Stray had magic, she had a place in this world and a purpose: If the Phoenix could use her to remake this realm then surely she was powerful enough to face one fearful, jealousy-ridden, vindictive plague-bitch. Surely she had nothing more to fear than the fear she’d already felt. And if that meant defending Logan then so much the better: She would not have him thinking she needed him to shield her all her days. She would not have him thinking that was all he was to her. He was not the target, she thought, he was the arrow. He was not her shield, he was her life.

Maybe her new confidence showed on her face; Maybe it was the evidence of what her tears had wrought which did it but Gold came to a stop before she even touched Stray, her eyes narrowing, incomprehension blooming in her features. Gaze darting from Stray to Logan to the Phoenix and back again, though suddenly she didn’t seem able to move. The Phoenix held its hand out to her, its expression almost welcoming. Incomprehension, then fear flitted across Gold’s face in quick succession as she watched the creature smile. “What is this?” she muttered, her voice suddenly bereft of its usual confidence. “What… What have you done to me?”

“What I had to, my Empress,” the Phoenix said softly. She reached up and kissed Gold’s forehead, her form still child-like, her voice ancient. Her eyes were bright as if filled with tears, fire threatening to spill over their lashes as Stray’s tears had done. “It is time for you to let go of Logan and I,” the Phoenix said softly. “Just as it is time I let go of both of you.”

And before Gold could answer there was a sudden, soft cry, followed by a delighted laugh. A tiny, blond-haired girl darted into the middle of the Company, her straw-yellow hair flowing behind her like a sail. Her eyes sky-blue and merry, though once they had been streaked with brimstone and rage. Illyenka ran to Logan, her arms held out and though shock moved across his face instinctively he swooped down to pick her up, holding her aloft and looking at her. There was so much joy and wonder in his eyes it almost hurt Stray to look.

“Illyenka,” the werewolf said softly. “Little one, is that you?”

“Yes!” And the child who had been an Empress giggled, the sound bouncing brightly off the once-were-hellish walls. She’d wrapped her arms around Logan and was babbling so fast Stray could barely keep up. “We went out to play,” she was saying, “And a bad man came and tried to take us away. But me and Spark, we ran away and we wouldn’t let him and I’ve been hiding here all day waiting for you to find me.” It all came out in a blur of words and movement, the sound almost too breathless to decipher. Stray saw Ororo smile. “So can we go home now?” the little girl asked, her blue eyes bright. “And can we go and see Bin Rais tomorrow? You promised that if I was good we could see the market day this year and I-”

Mercifully Ororo decided to take over. “We can see anything you like, child,” she said in her soft, warm voice. She held her arms out. “But you must come with me now, Logan has been through much this night.”

The child’s expression was quizzical. “Has he been fighting again?” she asked.

Ororo nodded solemnly and the little girl rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Then put me down!” she said, squirming until Logan deposited her back on her feet. She shot him an unimpressed look. “Silly Logan,” she said severely. “Where is my brother and Kitty?”

“Silly Illyenka,” Logan answered, though the tone of his voice held something more than a child would understand. “And Kitty is over there.”

His big hand reached out to tussle her hair, just for a moment, before pointing towards Kitty, Petya and Gainsborough. The three looked up and words could not describe the joy Stray saw on Petya and Kitty’s faces as they held their arms out and scooped Illyenka up in a hug that looked like it would never end. For a moment Gainsborough looked uncomfortable and then the child held her arms out to him too. He folded her carefully into them and laughed as her little hands tugged at his tail, his yellow eyes softening with delight. Stray let her own fingers thread through Logan’s as she watched, squeezing his hand lightly. Ororo gave his shoulder a soft pat and then padded quietly after the child, her eyes suspiciously bright. It was not every day that a lost child is returned. Gold watched all this and as Ororo reached Mistress’ Kitty’s family Stray saw the Phoenix reached over to her and whisper something softly to her. The sorceress was staring very hard at Katherine Shadowskin, her expression almost wondering but Stray could not guess her thoughts. But then-

“If I stay I will have power?” Gold asked softly.

She was staring at Illyenka as if she’d never seen her before, all trace of interest in Stray apparently gone.

“Aye,” the Phoenix answered softly. “You would have realms to rule and conquer. Servants and all manner of creatures intent on keeping you safe.” She nodded to Mephisto, Azazel and Belasco. They visibly paled at the sight. “And you would have these companions to do for you anything your heart desired. Your power here would be unquestioned, unparalleled. You would be Empress of this realm” The Phoenix child’s fiery eyes came to rest on her. “But you could never, ever go back, Mistress Goldfeather,” she continued softly. “I would see to that. You would have to bid goodbye to your sister here and now-” She gestured to a limping, grim-faced Mistress Red- “And then you could never return. Those are the terms of this bargain. I will not trick you: This power, like any other, has a price.” Her gaze bored into the other woman’s.

“The question is, are you willing to pay it?”

Gold barely even seemed to think about it, her eyes turning greedy and vicious as she stared at Illyenka’s goblyn men and her head bobbed a quick yes.

Mistress Red’s eyes flashed with hurt that she seemed not to even think of leaving her sister though Stray could not say she was surprised.

“Aye,” Gold said then, “For power I will pay this price.” And for a split second her eyes went to her sister’s, something that might have been contrition visible in their depths. But when Red reached out to touch her she pulled away, leaving her twin to wrap her arms around her husband and hold him tightly. Scott kissed his wife tenderly, shooting a look of deepest loathing at his sister-in-law though if Gold noticed Red’s distress she gave no sign of it. “Then you agree to this of your own free will?” The Phoenix was saying.

Gold nodded.

“You agree to be bound to this realm and our agreement for all eternity, My hollow Empress Goldfeather?”

This time the sorceress actually smiled.

“Then we are in agreement and this realm is yours, as it was once Illyenka’s,” the creature said solemnly. “So mote it be, and hail your Infernal Majesty.”

And with that there was a hiss of magic, a sharp burst of brimstone and the Company of Miracles was in Hollow Empress’ realm no more-

Not that the place they rematerialised was necessarily any better though.