Witch and Wizard_ The Fire - James Patterson [84]
Then, before I know what’s happening, awkward, annoying, insufferable Byron Weasel Swain leans in for the most tender, electric kiss I could never have even imagined — especially coming from him.
Whit gives a low whistle.
My head spins, my stomach flips, and my heart surges. This can’t be good.
“Now, that,” I say, dazed, when he finally pulls back, “does not bode well for your future.”
Chapter 88
Whit
THE ONE MAY be gone and the New Order may be mostly wiped out, but there is still so much to do.
I turn off the ignition, and Wisty, Byron, Emmet, and Sasha leap out of the van, stretching their legs.
Byron’s got his arm around Wisty’s waist, and Sasha’s giving them both a hard time about it. Wisty’s blushing a deep crimson, but I notice she doesn’t shrug away from Byron’s touch. She looks … like she’s having fun. She looks happier than I’ve seen her since the New Order came and turned everything upside down.
Janine turns to me from the front passenger seat. “By the way, I don’t think I’ve even had a chance to say thank you, for saving my life and healing me back in the Shadowland.”
I grin. “We were just going to ditch you back by the river, but I guess I just kinda like having you around.”
She laughs, then looks out the window at the scene awaiting us. “You ready?” she asks, squeezing my hand. I take a deep breath and squeeze back.
“More ready than I’ve ever been,” I say, and we follow the others outside.
The building is not as I remember it. The front door has been replaced, the holes have been patched up, and people are high on ladders, working to rebuild the blown-out upper floors.
Holiday lights sparkle across the balcony, and shiny ornaments wink from windows. The snow globe sits in a place of honor on the porch.
The Needermans peer out from their doorway. Not one looks to the sky for bombs. Their clothes aren’t new, but they’re newer. Their hope isn’t totally restored, but it’s being patched up. And they’ll do fine. They’ll persevere, and thrive. Because that is what survivors do every day of their lives.
Pearl Marie wriggles out from behind Mama May and runs over to us, a goofy smile on her face. She leaps into my arms and throws her hands around my neck.
“You did what you said you would,” she marvels. “You actually got us free, just like you promised. That’s unbelievable.”
“You expected any less, kid? I’m a scary witch,” says Wisty, wiggling her fingers. She playfully jabs me in the ribs. “And Whit is a wise old wizard.”
I can’t help grinning at my kid sister. “See, Pearl Marie? Didn’t we tell you we’d come back? Didn’t I promise?”
Pearl nods and fixes me with her wide gray eyes, the eyes of a seven-year-old far too jaded for her years but moving tentatively toward trust in the good of the world.
I’ve never been more relieved to be able to keep a promise.
As we walk through the streets, busy with new life, I get it now. There are no endings, and there are no fairy tales. But the pages keep being written. Time soldiers on.
Who knows if our darkest days are behind us? Or if The One will be the only person to bring them? All I know is, it was all real, every moment.
I can close the book on this part of our history. I can start a new chapter, but it doesn’t matter.
Because now, the magic is everywhere.
TRADITIONS AND THE FIGUREHEADS THEREOF WHO PLACE A DEITY ABOVE THE ONE WHO IS THE ONE
as Outlawed by The One Who Manages Traditions, Customs, Rituals, Practices, And Beliefs
Accem (noun, proper):
Millions of people in a pious group made a point to visit this ancient city at least once in their lifetime and to pray, neck-to-floor, five times daily toward its geographic location. The New Order has subsequently banned all compasses so that the position of the previously holy city cannot be traced.
free will (noun):
A delusional idea that humans are in control of their own destiny and not subject to the benevolent rule of The One Who Is The One. Because of the popularity of this disgraceful way of thinking