My throat is dry, and I can feel my own parents’ eyes following us. How did it come to this?
“As a mother, I’m begging you,” she cries. “Have mercy.”
Mercy.
I clench my teeth at that word, thinking about all the people Pearce has killed, all the sympathy he’s lacked. I hold my power strong.
“Can’t we work for peace?” Izbella searches our faces despairingly.
“That’s a joke,” Wisty scoffs. “How can there ever be peace when there are men like your son in the world? Men like The One? Like the Wizard King?”
“Yes.” Izbella narrows her eyes. “It’s a dangerous madness that overtakes the powerful. I’m sure you, of all people, would agree.”
“I’m not a murderer,” Wisty spits. Though her face looks full of fury, I can hear the hurt in her voice.
“Neither am I. The King is dead. I am the Mountain Witch and these are my people.” She gestures behind her. “From this day forward, the threats will end, the water will flow, and we will walk away from this war. I swear it on my son’s life.”
“What about the lives of all the other children? The ones he helped abduct?”
Izbella closes her eyes and sighs softly, and the child soldiers lower their weapons, one by one. They blink with confusion as she releases them from her control. When Pearl looks up at me with understanding and devastation and shame on her face, I can barely hold myself together.
“The children are free to go.”
Except for all the ones who didn’t make it. Except for the ones they left to freeze in the yard, or killed without mercy.
Mercy.
But that’s the difference between us and Pearce, isn’t it? We couldn’t stomach watching people die.
“This isn’t right,” I say suddenly, turning to my sister. “We can’t do this.”
Wisty bites her bottom lip. “But… he tried to enslave the whole City! What if he comes back even more powerful and more dangerous next time?” The tears well in her eyes and she looks down, ashamed. “I fell for all his lies once….”
I smile sadly at my sister. “I hear you. He’s sick and wrong and utterly psychopathic. But…” I swallow before I let these strange words tumble out of my mouth. “I never thought I’d say this, Wist, but the way he looked at you on that battlefield, I saw a shadow of something else there. Something like the way I used to look at Celia. Something like what I feel now when I’m with Janine. And if, somewhere in Pearce’s twisted mind, he did all this because he cares about you… that makes him human. Not like The One. And that’s something, right?”
“Yeah.” Wisty takes a deep breath and nods. “I guess it’s something.”
I squeeze her hand one more time, and then we both let go.
Chapter 83
Whit
PEARCE, RIGIDLY SEIZING with our power just moments ago, looks boneless as he collapses in an unconscious heap. Curled up like that, he really does just look like a helpless little kid, and I know immediately that we did the right thing.
An hour ago, thousands of soldiers were preparing for a bloodbath. Now, two armies look on as a mother gathers up her son’s limp body with incredible tenderness, and as she struggles to her feet with his long limbs dangling from her arms, and plods slowly toward the Mountain.
Just before she reaches the edge of the forest, Izbella turns. “Remember, Allgoods,” she warns. “There is nothing more dangerous than the combined magic of a witch and a wizard. Be careful how you use it.”
As she vanishes with Pearce through the trees and the mist, I turn to my sister with shining eyes. “Looks like you kept your promise, Wist.” She looks at me questioningly, and I hand her the broken, ashy drumstick. “We all survived.”
I’m pretty sure everyone is just happy with that at this point—we’re a grubby mess of tears and sappy, swaying hugs, and a few overjoyed survivors are even kissing the scraggly patches of brown grass.
But without the protection of their King or Queen, the Mountain men look across the field at us in sudden terror, and waste no time hightailing their horses toward the hills. Even Larsht gallops away, a white flag of surrender flying in his meaty hand.
I watch that flag, waving its way up the path, and suddenly, it bursts into flames.
My troublemaking sister’s at it again.
Larsht curses and drops the roaring fabric, but seeing the fire, his horse pulls its lips back from its teeth, flares its nostrils, and rears. Larsht falls to the side and grips the mane as the bucking animal drags him along. When he finally gets control, Larsht looks back for a long, resentful glare out of that intimidating glass eye of his.
Wisty’s giggling hysterically by now.
“Back to the good?” I ask, raising a mildly disapproving eyebrow.
She shrugs and rolls her eyes. “A witch has gotta have some fun, right?”
EPILOGUE
DESTINY’S REWARD
Chapter 84
Whit
I’M RUNNING THROUGH the City, winding down alleyways and sprinting across intersections, my feet pounding along the cobblestones.
It’s not like other times I’ve run through these streets, though. I’m not being chased by soldiers or wolves; I’m not trying frantically to escape or save anyone’s life.
I’m not afraid.
“Come on!” I call out to Pearl Neederman, barely slowing as I pass her house. “We’re going to be late!”
“Speak for yourself, Wizard,” Pearl scoffs. She shoots past me in her new sneakers. “Try to keep up!”
I shake my head and smile, happy to see this sarcastic little pipsqueak is back to normal. “See you in the square!” I call after her.
The streets look different, too. We’re fixing up the houses and picking up the garbage. People are outside, walking their dogs and helping their neighbors. Underneath all the old red banners and the smog and the ash and the rubble, this really is a beautiful place.
We still have one more thing to wrap up to put the past behind us, though—one final piece of unfinished business.
“Citizens, it’s time to decide: what should we do about Mr. Bloom?”
When I hear the echo of Janine’s voice as I turn the corner to enter the city square, I feel a quick shiver of admiration. She has no idea how sexy her confidence is, and I think the crooked scar running down her neck just makes her more beautiful.
The square’s packed, like always, and even more people are trickling in behind me. They sit on benches or stoops to watch the proceedings, and when there’s no more room, they stand. They want to be a part of this.
And they can.
That’s why we’re holding the Council meetings in the square now. So while the Council members sit on the marble steps to debate, anyone can come, and every single citizen owns a copy of The Book of Truths.
Janine’s running the meeting today, and she’s a natural at it, but someone else will be in charge tomorrow, and there’ll be a whole new Council next month.
No more secrets. No more lies. Power to the people.
Only kids can vote at the meeting, though. Adults can give their input, but let’s face it—when they try to lead, their big, fat egos get in the way.
“I am an elected official!” Bloom glares around him from the center of the square, where he’s standing next to the fountain. His toupee is all askew, and now he’s the one in handcuffs. “Do you know who you’re dealing with?”
Case in point.
“Unfortunately for you, Mr. Bloom, we know exactly who we’re dealing with.” Janine stares at Bloom coldly from the steps above. “The collected citizens have found you guilty of hijacking the Council, imprisoning innocent people, and dragging the City into a war it had no chance of winning.”
“I was merely trying to do what was best for the citizens,” Bloom protests stubbornly. “They chose me to lead!”
The crowd doesn’t like this at all, and starts to push in.
“You tried to lead us to our deaths!” so
meone shouts.
“You manipulated us!”
“You acted like a power-hungry sociopath, and your stupid wig isn’t fooling anyone!” Wisty chimes in, grinning at Bloom from the sidelines.
Seeing my sister in the middle of this hostile group, Bloom’s face blanches. “Please,” he sputters, wringing his chained hands. “Please don’t kill me.”
“Don’t worry, General—you’ll live,” Janine announces, and the square quiets down. “Believe it or not, we actually want you to be happy.”
“And we know how much you like bossing people around!” a little girl on the Council adds.
“Since you’re a natural leader,” Janine continues, “we thought it would be fitting if you were given your own personal Council to rule as you see fit.”
The monkeys pour through the doors of the old Capitol building. They scurry down the marble steps, shrieking, and race toward Bloom en masse.
“This isn’t funny!” he bellows as they leap at him, crawling up his legs and hanging from his arms. As he dances around, trying to shake them off, the square erupts in laughter, and Bloom’s face reddens. “There isn’t anything funny about this, I said! I’m a decorated general!”
“Your new soldiers await your every command,” Janine agrees, trying to hide her smile as a monkey snatches Bloom’s toupee. “And don’t worry. They’ll be accompanying you to your new home in the desert.”
That’s our cue. I push through the crowd, and Wisty and I link arms.
“I’m being exiled?” Bloom says angrily.
“Oh, I hear the desert’s not so bad,” I say, squeezing my sister’s hand. “If you don’t worry too much about the Lizard People and the giant scorpions…”
Wisty and I unite our power and Bloom and his monkeys start to spin. Faster and faster. A blur of fur and shrieks, until they’re sucked right into the vortex. “Hey—this really isn’t funny….”
Bloom’s voice echoes until there’s nothing left in the middle of the square but a rusty pair of handcuffs.
Chapter 85
Wisty
THE WHOLE COMMUNITY is here, gathered at the foot of the Mountain, and something incredible is happening: the water is flowing again.
As we watch the white-blue line trickle down between the rocks, I know I’m not the only one holding my breath. It means life for so many families, and when it finally gushes over the cliff in a waterfall, every one of us cheers.
I swear, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, and the challenges ahead of us feel a bit more surmountable.
I know it wasn’t that long ago that we were celebrating in the square after The One’s fall, and I get that it’s not all fireworks this time—that we have to rebuild things like wells, and portals… and trust.
But watching the kids splashing in the collecting pool and families filling jugs of fresh Mountain water, it’s impossible not to feel dizzy with simple gratitude: today’s a day for celebrating what we have.
So why, in the shadow of that Mountain, am I standing away from my friends and family, still so painfully aware of what’s missing?
A certain sly smile; a certain intense look; a certain spark lighting up my whole being.
Now, just a blank space.
He’s alive, I know it. I can feel him. The connection lingers like a phantom limb, surprising me with a flutter in my stomach, or a tingle in my fingers.
The anger’s stronger than that, though. It’s fury, every time I think of his betrayal. More than anything, I wish I could erase the memory of him altogether.
Instead, the Mountain looming above is a constant reminder. I can’t help tracing the steep slope with my eyes—to the white-tipped peak, where the fog swirls. I can almost feel the cold up there, reaching for me with its icy fingers, and I hug myself, shivering.
Someone drapes a wool jacket around my shoulders.
“You looked a little chilly,” Byron explains, and carefully adjusts the collar up around my chin. Of course. Only Byron Swain would wear a full suit to a picnic in a field.
I blink at him, surprised by the simple kindness, though I guess I shouldn’t be. I treated him so badly, and here he is giving me his coat. Who else would do that for me? Certainly not Heath…
“Thank you,” I say, and burst into tears.
“Hey, there. No need to cry.” He rubs my back somewhat awkwardly. “If my face offends you that much, you can always turn me into a rodent. I don’t even mind that much anymore, really. I’m happy to run around in a hamster wheel if it’ll cheer you up.”
I snort with laughter and wipe my eyes. “Really, Byron? You’d do that for me?”
“You know I’d do anything for you, Wisty,” Byron says a little too solemnly.
“Anything?” I challenge with a smirk.
He grins and reconsiders. “Well, maybe I wouldn’t melt off my grandfather’s face,” he answers, nudging me playfully. “But then again, I’m not that close to my grandpa, so if you promised me a kiss, maybe…”
I shake my head, but I can’t help but smile. The hurt is raw right now, but I know it’ll get easier, and this stupid heart will stop short-circuiting.
“You’re a great friend, Byron, you know that?”
“Just a friend?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows comically.
“You never give up, do you?”
“How could I?” Byron shrugs. “What can I say? You definitely make an impression, Wisty Allgood.”
Chapter 86
Wisty
“MISSUS FIRE WITCH?”
The tiny girl beaming up at me is one of the kids we saved from the van—Bettina Alexandra Gannon. She was right: I didn’t forget her.
“What’s up, munchkin?”
“Well…” Bettina twists her pink dress in her hands. “Since you’re the most famous person I ever met and you saved me and my friends and the whole world, can you make me a souvenir?” She says all this in one excited breath that grows in volume until she’s shouting in my face.
I grin. “Sure. I guess I could do that.”
“Thankyouthankyouthankyou!” Bettina squeaks.
Thing is, I have no idea what to give her. What does a famous witch known for her firepower get a kid? Matches?
I hide a smirk. I’m sure her parents would love me for that.
“Bettina!” her mom calls, as if reading my mind. “It’s time to go home—it’s getting dark.”
“Just a minute, Mom!” Bettina looks at me expectantly.
Bettina’s mother isn’t the only one concerned with the twilight, I notice. Families are packing up food and hurrying their kids out of the pool. I wish I could give them back their innocence; I wish they didn’t have to be afraid. But even though the City feels safe again, we don’t always know what can happen after dark.
I feel a tug on my pant leg. Bettina’s still looking at me expectantly, waiting for her souvenir.
I crouch down so I’m at eye level with her. “Okay, what kind of stuff do you like?” I ask.
“I like magic!” She beams. “And dancing! And sparkles!”
Something sparkly. Hmm.
The first star of evening catches my eye, twinkling brightly. It reminds me of Pearl’s chandelier, and how the colors shimmered in the Needermans’ dim basement. With broken, discarded glass, Pearl gave us hope.
Everyone should have a light like that.
“Ready?” I raise an eyebrow at Bettina.
She nods eagerly, and I concentrate on the darkening sky. That hum of energy that I know so well—the thrilling heat—starts to make me flush. I swallow hard.
You can do this.
The truth is, I’ve been avoiding this feeling since my battle with Pearce. Whit and I used magic at Bloom’s trial, but not fire. The memories of Heath are still raw, and the thought of that warmth felt so negative, so destructive, I wasn’t sure I could ever face it again.
But this feels different—not tainted by lies or vengeance.
It feels good.
I ca
n’t protect this City from everything—I realize that now. But this is something that I can do. A gift, not just for Bettina, but for all the City’s children.
The power builds slowly, a low, simmering burn that moves up from my toes and through my veins. I take a deep, shaky breath, clenching and unclenching my fingers, making sure I’m in control.
I let all my hopes for these kids, all my pride from the incredible things we’ve accomplished, all my joy, all my love, swell inside me. That energy makes me shudder with its force; it’s as strong as anything I had with Heath.
Stronger.
When I can’t hold it in anymore, I fling my fingers out and release a massive fireball. It blazes into the sky and settles above us, an awesome sphere of color and light, glittering like a second sun for all the children of the City.
It’s for anyone who needs a blast of color on a gray day, too, and for others lost in darkness who need to find their way home. And it’s a reminder that things are going to be all right—for all of us.
Bettina claps her hands joyfully as she looks at the sky, and I spot Pearl and the other Needermans across the open field, gazing up, too. There’s Mrs. Highsmith and my parents, a few other magicians, and an old former Councilman, all of their eyes shining. More and more people stop to look.
It took the trauma of war to make our community strong again, to trust one another, but here we are. Young and old, from the suburbs or the Gutter, all the citizens are smiling under the same sky, faces illuminated by my gift.
“Not bad.” Whit steps from behind me, arms crossed over his chest.
I turn to him, screwing up my face. “Not bad?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Whit breaks into a smile and drapes his arm around my neck, hugging me to him as we walk across the meadow to join our family. “It’s pretty much perfect.”
About the Authors
Witch & Wizard 04 - The Kiss Page 21
