There had once been a chalk horse on this hill, which some said was actually a unicorn.

There had once been a time when the unicorn stood on this grass.

There had once been a world which was surprised by such a turn of events.

But now all of these things had passed.

Now, the eyes of the world were turned elsewhere, and all were finally open to the magic which had once been the preserve of a few. The unicorn had moved onto greener pastures, and the dragon it had lain beside had flown on to wider skies.

Now, most days, this was only a hill and a vague memory of a different time, slowly fading into darkness.

But today, the memory shone bright.

A man sat on top of the hill, staring out at the scenic panorama before him. He had come here to – what? He wasn't quite sure. His original intent was now forgotten, and instead he just stared.

To be specific, he stared at a distant figure, a splash of red among the green, slowly winding its way up to meet him.

Although it had been a long time – months – since they had last met, he instantly recognised her. The stomping walk. The clenched hands. The copper curls blowing in the breeze. He wondered what he would say to her – what he could say.

He was still wondering when, about an hour after he had noticed her, she arrived, her presence behind him announced by her deep, panting breaths and the unnecessarily heavy footfalls, broadcasting, to those who knew how to listen, that the long uphill walk had left her tired and irritable. He still had not decided what to say, and it was only when she collapsed next to him, falling upon the turf in a state of exaggerated exhaustion, that he finally spoke the first words that occurred to him.

"Lucy," Tam asked. "Did you follow me here?"

Lucy Pennykettle laughed, and the familiarity of it cut deep. Surely he should have forgotten the cadence of her laughter? Time had been given nearly a year to blunt the memories, but the knowledge of all that had passed between them and around them still cut at him like a dagger of ice in his heart.

"Why would I follow you?" she asked, the question itself standing testament to all that had changed. "It's the anniversary. I haven't forgotten. It didn't even occur to me anyone else would come, not until I saw your car in the car park…"

She sighed, and Tam knew she was remembering 'anyone else.' Many had gathered here that day – humans and dragons, halflings and hybrids, and many other beings that, even in this brave new world, there were not yet names for.

Beings like him.

But almost all of them were gone now. Some had died, on that day or in the chaos that followed, losing their lives to a darkness which seeped in from another reality. Of the survivors, most had moved on, chosing to explore the new universes which had opened their gates to Earth for good.

As far as Tam knew, they were the only ones remaining: the Pennykettles, Liz and Lucy, forever in Wayward Crescent, although several of their ever-present dragons had chosen departure. Liz was, as always, content to live happily in suburbia with Arthur and leave the mysteries of the universe to themselves. And Lucy…

Lucy was too young to go alone.

"I thought you said you were going to travel," Lucy said, somewhat accusatorily. "You said you were going to see the world. I expected postcards."

She was not, in a sense, wrong, although Tam had never said precisely those words.

Everyone had been leaving. It had been time to say goodbye. And – he had wanted to travel, explore the strangeness that was this unfamiliar planet.

What he had never said was that he wanted to do it with her.

But that couldn't happen, he knew that. So he had half-lied, almost wishing she would see through to the truth, but instead he had watched her heart break, hating that he had to shatter it even further.

But the break had been clean, and he had stayed away, and gone back to his job, and tried, oh he had tried, to live a normal life.

And that was what he told her now. Almost.

"I didn't, in the end. I went back to the Endeavour. A normal life."

"Normal?" She laughed again, as he had known she would. Once more, the sound of it shredded him.

He wished he could never stop listening to it.

"How are we supposed to be normal?" she continued. "After everything? After last year?"

Last year. The day which had changed the world.

Sometimes, he felt like it had torn his apart.

In truth, he knew why he was here. It wasn't in memory of all that had happened – if he wanted to remember, he needed only turn on the news. It wasn't even in memory of those who had died. He had known far fewer of them than Lucy had, and he had mourned their passing in privacy.

No, he was here in memory of the moment that had redefined his life – the moment when he had finally admitted to himself that he had lost the long, slow battle with common sense – the beautiful, heartbreaking moment when he had watched a young woman battling for her life with all the strength of a warrior princess, and had known that he would fight with all the strength of a polar bear to protect her from harm.

That was the moment when he had fallen in love with Lucy Pennykettle.

"How do you stand it?" she asked. "Pretending that you're human, but knowing that there's so much more – knowing that you had a destiny. How could you just go back to a normal life?"

He hadn't really cared, hadn't even thought about it. It had just been something to distract him, to remind him of all the reasons why he couldn't do everything he had ever dreamed of.

"We're still human," he said aloud.

She laughed for a third time. "Human plus. A Teller of the Ways and a dragon princess. You don't get much more 'dual heritage.'"

"Do you mind it still?" he asked. "Even now you have all your sisters to share it with?"

Lucy shrugged. "It's not the same. It isn't just…"

She sighed.

"They weren't here."

Tam didn't know what to say to that.

"Don't you mind it?" Lucy asked after a moment. "Being the only one? Still keeping it secret?"

"It's who I am." He had come to accept that much at least.

Besides, everyone he cared about already knew.

For a minute, there was silence.

Lucy sat up suddenly.

"Tell me a story."

The childlike request took him by surprise, and he almost refused automatically before he realised that the story was already there within his mind, waiting for her to ask.

"Once upon a time…" he began, teasingly.

Lucy giggled.

"Hrr-rarr-rr-rurr," she hurred. "Your accent is terrible."

He hadn't noticed himself slipping into dragontongue.

"Listen," he hushed her. "Once upon a time, there was a dragon princess."

Lucy grinned. "It's about Gwendolen?"

Tam smirked, unable to resist.

"Sometimes."

She pulled a face at him, and accordingly shut up to let him talk.

"A bear was wandering alone on the ice one day, far from any others of its kind, when he heard a speech he recognised on the wind. When he went to investigate, he discovered a human female, smelling of bears, and singing to herself in the language of dragons."

Lucy let out a little hrr! of recognition, and Tam smiled to himself, wondering if she was conscious of the draconian mannerism.

"When he approached her, she explained that she needed to journey across the ice, as she did every winter, and although the bear knew that this fabled woman could journey safely alone, he offered his company on the empty Arctic plains. For miles, they travelled together across the ice, keeping each other in good spirits, until they came within sight of a settlement of humans – the woman's family."

"The bear knew that, although this fascinating human walked in many worlds, she belonged among her own kind, and he turned to leave. However, she called to him to wait. She explained to him that she had reason to journey on the ice every year, and asked that, if he could, he return to walk with her once more when the days began to grow shorter again."

"And so, every year for as long as they both lived, the woman and the bear would make the journey across the ice together, side by side."

Lucy looked at him expectantly, and when she realised no more story was forthcoming she frowned.

"That wasn't a very good ending," she said. "Are you sure that was Avrel, not Kailar?"

"I'm sure," Tam said. Although he, too, was a little perplexed by the tale, it had definitely been the one Avrel wanted told. He had never known the Teller to be wrong before – but perhaps the bear had picked up whatever part of Tam's auma made it impossible for him to ever appease a daughter of Guinevere.

There was a moment's silence, in which Tam realised that the sun was fast headed towards the horizon. Before long, dusk would be upon them.

"Perhaps we should head back," Lucy suggested, clearly having noticed the same thing.

The pair got to their feet without saying a word, and they had made it quite a way down the hill before Lucy finally spoke again.

"You never intended to go travelling, did you?"

Tam didn't know what to say, and wished he had seen the question coming.

He didn't want to lie.

"No."

"Thank you for not lying," Lucy said, taking him by surprise again. "I knew that months ago. I found you online."

"But –"

"Changing your accounts doesn't help much against an I.T. dragon," Lucy informed him. "Not that the name change was very original, Mat."

"I suppose not," he admitted, although it had seemed sensible at the time. "Look, Luce, I just thought it would be better if I wasn't around for a while."

She glared at him, and they walked on in stony silence.

"You thought wrong."

They were well down the hill now, within sight of the car park, but she continued as if he had only just spoken.

He sighed. "It would be best if you just forgot all about me and moved on with your life."

He told himself that every day, told himself that she should find someone else, told himself that he would be happy just so long as she was happy. Some days, he thought that if he told himself enough, he might begin to believe it.

"I'm not going to forget what happened," she said coldly.

"You know what I mean…"

"No, I don't." She snapped, coming to a halt. "You were as much a part of it as anything else. This isn't some crush I'm going to get over. I know what I feel."

She paused for a second, but there was nothing he wanted to say that he knew the words for.

"I'm not a kid, Tam." She glared at him as she said it, and even in the low light Tam could see her eyes shining with tears as she turned away from him.

He felt like she had punched him in the gut.

"Lucy!" he hurried after her. "That's not what I meant. I – I know you aren't a kid. You're a beautiful young woman who has every right to hate me for what I did, but you deserve the chance to live a normal life."

"Normal?" she asked, rounding on him. "When did I ever say I wanted a normal life? I. Want. You. And I'm not going to give up on you unless you look me in the eye, right now, and tell me you're not at all interested."

Tam knew he should lie, or at least turn away and say something evasive.

He did neither.

"I can't," he whispered.

Even shrouded by tears and half-invisible in the darkness, Lucy Pennykettle's smile was blindingly beautiful.

"But," he said slowly. "You're seventeen."

She pouted a little. "Nearly eighteen."

"In two months and fifteen days," he acknowledged.

"You're worried about the age thing?" She sounded incredulous, like the very idea was unbelievable.

"It's the kind of thing people notice," he reminded her.

"They can notice all they like," Lucy shrugged, perching on a wall nearby. "I don't mind!"

She swung her legs over the wall, and Tam realised that they had reached the car park already. He had been too focussed on her to pay attention to their surroundings.

"How are you getting home?" he asked, suddenly uncertain.

She rolled her eyes, leaning pointedly against a yellow Beetle – the only car present, other than his own.

"Whose –" Realisation dawned. "You can drive?"

"You only have to be seventeen to take your test," she reminded him. "I've had my licence six months already."

He realised what an idiot he'd been. He'd still been imaging her as the sixteen year old he had known. Of course things would change. Things always changed.

He didn't want to miss any more changes.

Tam peered at the car. It was clearly second hand, but that was definitely not its most notable feature. The back seat was piled high with suitcases.

"Are you running away or something?"

She laughed. "I'm nearly eighteen. I'm moving out. I thought I'd go travelling for a while."

Ice settled in his stomach. "You're headed north?"

She shook her head, her hair flashing like fire in the last rays of the sunrise. "I'm not interested in Ki:mera. I want to see Earth. I'm going to find an adventure of my own."

Oh.

"I guess this is goodbye then."

"Depends." She raised an eyebrow. "Want to come along for the ride?"

"Will you walk with me again?" The words seemed to echo in the wind, a voice stretching across the centuries.

Tam wondered if Lucy had heard it too, because she smiled.

"I guess Avrel's story wasn't so bad after all?" he asked.

"The story made perfect sense," Lucy told him. "It just had the wrong ending."

She stepped towards him, close enough that he could feel her breath on his face.

"The icesheets are a big place," she said seriously. "If they didn't want it to, the journey never had to end at all."

She rose up slowly on her tiptoes, and the kiss was everything he had ever imagined it would be.

When they broke apart, the sun had finally vanished beneath the horizon.

"I'll need to drop by my apartment and grab some things," he murmured. "Are you okay to follow me there?"

"I have the directions printed out."

He raised an eyebrow, and she grinned back at him.

"Come on." She laughed, the most beautiful sound in the world. "Did you really think I was going to go without you?"