by Rachel Aaron
“Animals, too,” Marci said. “Remember all the crazy mana beasts that popped up around the meteor crater? Take that and spread it all over the world. Detroit’s probably going to get the worst of it since the DFZ thinned the barrier here, but I don’t think anywhere is safe.”
“How long will it last?” Julius asked, transfixed by the glowing particles rising from the ground like fireflies.
Amelia shrugged. “Who knows? Even I’ve never seen a magical surge of this magnitude.”
“I’d guess two weeks, tops,” Marci said. “They weren’t this big, but we’ve had magical disasters before. In those cases, the majority of the fallout—”
“Generally settled within forty-eight hours,” Myron finished. “But you’re assuming this follows the same fallout pattern as events that happened on this side of the divide. This magic is coming from the Sea of Magic itself, and we don’t have any data for that.”
Marci scowled thoughtfully, and then she turned and headed for the stairs. “We need to get a better look. I’ve got an observation circle in my lab upstairs.”
“Do you have a phone?” General Jackson asked, chasing after her. “The UN office in New York will have accurate readings for sure.”
“If the phone networks are up,” Myron said grimly as they all went up the stairs. “It’s a miracle this building still has power.”
That was a good point. Now that he thought about it, all of this—the intact house, the power, the wards—struck Julius as suspiciously convenient. Another time, he would have stewed about the implications of that. Right now, though, he couldn’t do anything except stand there and watch Marci walk up the stairs with everyone else. Walk away from him.
He was still watching when a hand landed on his shoulder, and he turned to see Chelsie waiting beside him with her daughter, who was now back in human form as well and wearing one of the T-shirts Justin had left behind like a dress.
“There’s a lot going on,” she said quietly, her green eyes flicking pointedly at the bend in the stairs where Marci had just disappeared. “She’s just busy right now. It doesn’t mean she doesn’t care.”
“I know,” Julius said, taking a shaking breath. “She’s a Merlin now. She’s doing what she needs to do, and I’m happy for her.”
He didn’t sound happy. For once, though, Chelsie didn’t call him on the lie. She just squeezed his shoulder and set off toward the kitchen. “I’m going to raid your freezer. There’s no telling how long this will last or how long we’ll have power. Better to stock up now. Want to help?”
Julius tried for a moment. He really did. He even managed to walk all the way to the kitchen door. In the end, though, he just couldn’t. This entire night, through everything that had happened, he’d been holding it together on sheer adrenaline. Now that things were suddenly calm, there was simply nothing left.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his body shaking. “I…that is…”
“It’s fine,” Chelsie said, looking over her shoulder. “Go to your room and do whatever you have to do to get yourself together, because we’re going to need you.”
Technically, she had no business telling him what to do, but Chelsie’s words weren’t a command. They were an escape, and Julius leaped on it, whirling around and going up the stairs to his room as fast as he could without actually running away. He was turning to lock the door behind him when someone else grabbed the opposite handle.
Julius froze, confused. Then confusion turned to joy when Marci pushed her way in.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey,” he replied lamely, running a hand through his hair. “I thought you guys were talking big-time magic stuff.”
“We were,” she said, stepping into his room. “But then I thought, you know, this is going to be going on for a while, and I didn’t want to sit there being a third wheel while they called every mage at the UN, so I told them I was tired.”
He frowned at her. “Are you tired?”
“I was dead for four days,” she reminded him, closing his door so she could lean against it. “So yeah, I’m pretty tired. But I don’t want to sleep in my room.”
She flipped the lock on the door behind her with a click, and suddenly, Julius understood what was going on.
“Oh,” he said as his heart began to hammer. “That is, I mean…”
He had no idea what he meant. Fortunately, it didn’t seem to matter. Marci had already closed the distance, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck as she pulled him down for a kiss.
Julius jumped when their lips met. Practically leaped out of his skin. She’d clearly anticipated that, though, because Marci’s grip on his neck just clenched tighter, keeping her locked against him as she started walking them both backward toward his bed.
It was at this point that Julius’s brain started to fail him, which was a serious problem, because he’d never needed to think more. This was all happening way too fast. Marci had just come back from the dead. They were in the middle of a magical apocalypse. He needed a chance to decompress and process it all. He needed to talk to her about all the things he hadn’t gotten a chance to say before she’d died: how much he needed her, that he loved her, that he’d never missed anyone as much as he’d missed her. Everything he’d spent the last week desperately repeating to her memory was still there, eating at him.
He needed to get that out, but he couldn’t bring himself to push Marci away. She was just so close. So here and alive and kissing him and…and…
His thoughts were still stuttering when they reached the bed. The moment the back of his legs brushed the mattress, Julius’s knees gave way, and they both dropped down together. It wasn’t until Marci’s hands left his shoulders and slid down his chest to grab the hem of his shirt, though, that Julius finally realized if he was going to say anything, it had to be now.
“Wait,” he gasped, grabbing her hands as he sat up. “Stop for a second.”
The hurt that flashed over Marci’s face sent him into a panic. “It’s not like that,” he said as fast as he could. “I want this, but—”
“Good,” she said, leaning back in with a smile. “I want this, too.”
He grabbed her arms. “Marci,” he said, voice shaking. “You were dead.”
“Why do you think I’m in a hurry?” she asked irritably, struggling against his hold. “I already lost everything once. I’m not wasting any more time.”
“Neither am I,” he promised. “But I can’t let this go any further without…without saying…”
Marci went very still. “Without saying what?”
Julius clenched his hands. Here it went. “I love you.”
She took a deep, satisfied breath. “You love me,” she repeated, savoring each word.
“Not a little, either,” he added. “A lot. And this isn’t just something I only realized after you died. I’ve loved you for a long time, but I never said anything because I didn’t want to hurt our friendship and because it would make so many problems for you.”
She stared at him like he was crazy. “Why would you loving me be a problem?”
“How can you ask that?” he cried. “I’ve caused nothing but problems for you! Gregory tried to kill you—”
“And I kicked his butt.”
“—and things are only going to get worse now that I’m a clan head. I’ve nearly died three times in the four days you were dead. I can’t ask you to be part of that. It was my fault you died this time.”
“You’re not asking me,” she said angrily, yanking her arms out of his grip at last. “I’m choosing. You think you’re the only one with a crazy life? I’m a Merlin now. You’ve already seen how scary that can get, and you weren’t even there for the stuff on the other side. Is that going to scare you off loving me?”
“No,” he said immediately.
“Exactly,” Marci said. “So stop expecting me to be different.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I am well acquainted with the dangers of being your girlfriend, Julius Heart
striker. I’ve seen it all, and none of it has changed my mind. So if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to sample the benefits of our relationship for once before I die again.”
Julius went pale. “That isn’t funny.”
“It wasn’t meant to be,” she said firmly. “I’m only saying it so you’ll understand I’m going into this with eyes wide open. I know what you are, and I know what that means, and it doesn’t change a thing. You’ve always been the one I wanted. There’s nothing you can say at this point that’s going to change my mind, so while I know you mean well, kindly cut it out. I love you. I want this. End of story.”
That was pretty clear, but Julius couldn’t help it. “You love me?”
“Duh,” she said as her cheeks turned red. “In case kissing you in the hotel wasn’t a big enough hint, I’ve had a crush on you pretty much forever.”
He was grinning like a happy idiot by the time she finished, and Marci rolled her eyes. “So is there anything else embarrassing you want me to admit, or can we go ahead and do this? Because I’m not sure how much of a breather we’ll get in this crisis, and I’d rather not miss what might be our only chance to—”
Julius pulled her back against him. She responded in kind, frantically kissing him back as she pushed off the floor with her foot to send them both tumbling backward into the bed.
The moment they landed, Julius knew they’d crossed the point of no return. Marci was on top of him now, her scent and warmth all over him as she helped him take off her shirt. His went next, and when she settled back down on top of him, pressing skin to warm skin, he thought he was going to die.
Surprisingly, not of anxiety. The few times he’d let himself imagine this scenario, he’d always been slightly terrified. Now that it was actually happening, though, the fact that he was a virgin who had no idea what he was doing suddenly felt like a minor concern next to the absolute wonder that was having Marci so close to him. It was completely overwhelming. Too good to be true. The sort of good fortune that shouldn’t be questioned. But then, just as he was getting the hang of things, Marci froze.
“What?” he asked, terrified he’d done something wrong, but she wasn’t looking at him. She was looking at his window.
“There’s a bird out there.”
Julius sat up in alarm. Sure enough, a pigeon was sitting on his windowsill. A perfectly normal-looking city pigeon wearing a little flower hat that someone had tied to her feathered head at a jaunty angle.
She pecked the glass when she saw Julius looking, her throat fluttering as she cooed questioningly. She was still cooing when Julius reached up and grabbed the string for the blinds.
“Wait!” Marci cried as the blinds crashed down. “Wasn’t that Bob’s—”
“Yes.”
“Then why did you—”
“Because I don’t care,” Julius said, burying his face in her neck. “Whatever it is, whatever he has to tell me, it can wait.”
“But what if it’s important?”
“Doesn’t matter,” he said stubbornly, pushing up just enough to stare down at her. “I am done putting other things ahead of us, Marci. The last time I chose Heartstriker over you, you died. That’s not a lesson I’m going to forget. Bob can take care of himself for a few hours, but I am never taking you for granted again.”
He was holding her too tight by the time he finished. When he tried to let go, though, she wouldn’t let him. She kissed him instead, dragging her lips over his until they were both lost again, cocooned in a warm world where, for once, they were the most important things.
***
High above the dry bed of Lake St. Clair, on the last remaining steel support beam of what had been the elevated boardwalk for the elegant—and currently collapsed—lakeside hotels, a dragon sat cross-legged beneath the protective bubble created by his enormous fang-shaped sword, eating a chicken sandwich and watching the magic rise from the ground like a heavy snowfall in reverse.
It was a little cramped—even the Magician’s Fang of the Heartstriker was hard pressed to ward off this much disaster—but Brohomir was quite content. After all, it wasn’t every day you got a front-row seat for the end of the world.
He’d just finished his sandwich and was reaching into the paper bag for another when a pigeon wearing a pretty hat fluttered down to land on his leg.
Alone.
“I take it that’s a ‘no,’ then?” Bob said, lowering his sandwich sadly.
The pigeon bobbed its head, hopping onto his knee to peck at the sandwich he’d just set down.
“I suspected he wouldn’t come,” the seer said, opening the bread so she could eat it more easily. “But there was a small chance, and I’d much hoped I’d get a chance to talk to him properly before…”
“Before the end.”
Bob looked up just in time to see the Black Reach drop out of the sky. Not as a dragon—things weren’t that far gone yet—but his human form was bad enough.
“Do you mind?” Bob asked irritably. “Not that I object to a good cryptic drop—which was nicely done, I admit—but there’s not enough room up here for two.”
“I won’t be long,” the Black Reach assured him, helping himself to a sandwich from the paper bag beside Bob’s bloodstained leg. “That looks serious.”
“Things are always serious with my sister,” Bob said with a laugh that quickly turned into a wince as the movement irritated the bruises on his chest. “Even with her Fang, that fight would have been a gamble. Without it…” He grimaced. “Let’s just say I’m happy to still be in possession of all my organs.”
“Couldn’t have been that bad if you’re able to joke about it,” the Black Reach said as he unwrapped his stolen sandwich from its paper. “And I noticed your tool arrived right on time to save you.”
Bob smiled serenely. “Punctuality is one of Julius’s many virtues.”
“So I’ve seen,” the oldest seer said, giving him a piercing look. “That’s the trouble. I’ve seen everything, and I still don’t understand. This meeting, for example.” His eyes flicked to the pigeon, who was still happily pecking at her sandwich in Bob’s lap. “You have everything you need now. What are you waiting for?”
“If you truly saw everything, you wouldn’t be asking me that,” Brohomir replied, reaching down to stroke the pigeon’s folded wings with his finger.
The Black Reach crushed the sandwich in his fists, and Bob sighed. “Really, did you just come up here to waste food or—”
“Why?” he growled, throwing the sandwich aside as he knelt down in front of the younger seer, getting right in his face. “I’ve been watching you every step of the way, waiting for you to reveal yourself. To surprise me. But every single step has done nothing but bring us closer to the inevitable.”
“That’s the problem with inevitable things,” Brohomir said. “They always—”
“WHY?” the Black Reach roared at him, pointing at the pulsing ball of water floating above the dry bed of Lake St. Clair. “Your plans have done nothing but make things worse! You have irritated and agitated and destroyed, and for what? The future is still what it always has been. All your work, your cryptic secrets, it’s all been for nothing!”
“Ah,” Bob said, lifting a finger. “That’s where you’re wrong.”
“Tell me,” the older seer demanded, grabbing him by the collar. “Tell me how these things add up to anything but disaster.”
“I can’t,” Bob said, hanging limp in his grasp. “You said it yourself. The end is inevitable.”
The Black Reach bared his teeth. “Then why do you seem to be doing everything in your power to make it come faster?”
“Because I need it to,” Bob said, growing serious at last. “I need this chaos, because this”—he nodded at Algonquin’s ball—“was always doomed to happen. I’ve spent my entire life looking down these paths. I’ve lived through every way this night ends, and the only way we live on to see tomorrow is if I make sure every disaster from here out happens on my
terms.”
The Black Reach let him go with a long sigh. “There’s the fault in your logic,” he said tiredly. “There is no tomorrow for you, Brohomir. Thanks to your actions, there might not be a tomorrow for any of us.”
“You won’t let that happen,” Bob said confidently. “You’re Dragon Sees Eternity, the guardian of the future. If there’s no more future for dragons, you’re out of a job.”
The Black Reach reached up to rub his eyes. “I’ll try,” he said. “But has it ever occurred to you that I’m a construct, not a god?”
“Oh, that’s occurred to me many, many times,” Bob promised. “But don’t worry. I wrote in a part for you, too. It’s a bit of a grand one, but I promised my darling a show, and I never disappoint a lady.”
He leaned down to press a kiss to his pigeon’s head, and the Black Reach’s lip curled in disgust. “That’s no lady,” he growled. “That’s a—”
“Ah, ah, ah,” Bob said. “Not another word. I will tolerate no maligning of my consort.”
“Your consort?” The Black Reach snorted. “You’re her consort, and she’s using you.”
“It would only be using if I weren’t aware,” Bob said, leaning back against his Fang. “But I know exactly what’s going on, because it was all my idea. Not that it’s any of your business, but I asked her, so if you have any ideas of me being an innocent victim, you can toss them. I went into this with eyes wide open.”
“Then you should have seen more,” the Black Reach said coldly, turning to face the ball of compressed water and the enormous shadow that covered it like a cloud. “Last chance, Brohomir.”
The Seer of the Heartstrikers smiled as he stood up, yanking his sword out of the support beam and resting the giant blade on his shoulder. He snagged his bag of sandwiches next. Then, with a polite bob of his head, he stepped backward, dropping off the jutting beam like a stone.
He landed nimbly as a cat a good thirty feet below, hitting the sandy dirt of the dry lake bed without leaving so much as a footprint.
