Witch and Wizard_ The Fire - James Patterson [80]
Someone starts softly singing one of the great Forbidden Hymns, and before long hundreds of people are singing together. The song builds and falls, and the voices are so beautiful you could almost forget we’re in the land of the dead. Hearing my mother sing again is almost too amazing for words.
Then Dad motions for Whit to come toward him, and when he does, Dad squeezes him in a ferocious hug.
“You take care of your sister, now, champ,” Dad says solemnly. “Like always.” He looks at me with a sparkle in his eyes. “And you. I know you’ll stay out of trouble, won’t you, Wisty? Make your old man proud. Like always.”
Every alarm in my head goes off, and my autoimmune responses go nuts. We finally have our parents back. So why is this starting to feel like good-bye?
“Dad?” I squeak, eyes searching and welling with tears, and when he won’t meet my gaze: “Mom?” I look to her, demanding an answer.
She strokes my hair. “It’s our time, sweets. We’ve been here waiting, just like everybody else. It’s time to finally see what’s on the other side of that river.”
They step forward to join the line of spirits. “To cross over,” my dad confirms.
Chapter 84
Wisty
PANIC CONSTRICTS MY chest while adrenaline surges into my ears. I’m pulling at my tangled hair as angry, ugly tears stream freely down my face.
My parents are moving toward the bridge, holding hands, brave, ready to face their fates, just like they were that day at the execution. And just like that day, I feel utterly helpless. Just like that day, I’m going to let my parents slip right through my fingers.
And The One wins. Again.
“Wait!” I shout, the plaintive, sharp edge of the word piercing the air.
Mom and Dad turn, expectant. They are two tiny, anonymous silhouettes against the red gash of sky.
“Just … wait a minute,” I whimper softly, my mind racing. “This feels wrong. This is not how it’s supposed to go.”
“I know, I know, sweetie,” my mom coos to me, stroking my hair, trying to calm me down. Placating me.
I brush her hand away. “No! I mean, it really feels wrong. It’s time, yes, but what if it’s time for us to go home again? All of us. Together.”
I step between my parents and the crowds of people streaming along the River of Forever. The wind whips against me. Please, I chant to myself. Please. Please.
“But, honey,” Mom reasons, “we’re dead. You have to understand that this is what happens next.”
“They got it wrong. I just know that it’s all wrong,” I plead, my eyes burning from the tears. I squeeze my mother’s arms. “I can feel you. You’re not spirits, and you’re not Lost Ones. You have substance. How do you explain that?”
My dad looks around at the spirits, at the flowing river flickering through their bodies. “It’s true, Eliza. We never lost that, not like … everybody else.”
“But how are we still … part of the living?” Mom asks. “I felt death. I felt my breath leave my body.”
I shake my head, uncertain. “Maybe it has to do with The One. He used that power to … vaporize you … so maybe now that he’s gone, the spell is lifted. Maybe now you can go home.”
Dad puts his hand in Mom’s. “Maybe she’s right. Maybe we really can go home. We can certainly try.”
“It’ll work.” I nod vigorously, suddenly relieved, suddenly more sure of this than I’ve been of anything in my life: my parents weren’t meant to die. At least not that day.
I’m beaming at them, so excited, but something else is wrong.
Whit is looking at Celia with the most heartbreaking expression I’ve ever seen. Anybody can see that he’s hoping the same is true for her. He touches her arm, but it’s still flickering somewhere between here and there.
Not solid.
She shakes her head before he can say anything, and he interlaces his hand with hers. “It could work, Celes. You don’t know for sure if —”
“I know,” she whispers, a single tear sneaking out of her eye. If it were just her and Whit she might break down, but with my whole family watching her guiltily, she sucks it up and takes a deep breath.
“It’s not like with your parents, Whit. It wasn’t a mistake with me; it wasn’t a spell.