Page 113 of Big Little Spells

I feel my grandmother’s love surrounding us. I feel Nicholas’s pride flow through Coronis. I can hear our friends’ awe.

Out in the crowd, I hear applause. Even some cheers.

Oh yeah. They’re rooting for us.

We are special. We are powerful. We are all the magic they tried to deny us.

They can’t deny it now.

We let the ritual come to an end, but we do it beautifully, bringing our beautiful full moon down to the rivers, and letting it set there. First a glimmer on the water, then gone.

Emerson and I are both breathing hard, and I can see the jubilation on her face. I know I must look the same. We grip each other’s hands as we turn to face the Joywood at last.

Their expressions give nothing away, and I’m not sure why this worries me. I want them to be angry. I want them to be awed. I want something.

But it shouldn’t matter, because look what we did...

The moments drag on, and still they show nothing. Emerson’s hand tightens on mine. Something in the pit of my stomach curdles. They didn’t throw us any curveballs, as we expected, but they couldn’t have seen that coming.

They couldn’t have imagined we’d get the crowd going.

Carol sighs, and it’s almost too believable. It tugs at me. I want to comfort her—and I hate the woman. “I know this isn’t what anyone wants,” she says, shaking her head so her frizzy hair bounces forlornly. “It pains me, but as the ruling coven, we must do what’s right. What’s best, even if it contradicts our personal feelings. I’m afraid you’ve both failed.”

Her voice echoes everywhere. I hear her with my ears and inside my head too. But Emerson and I stand there, hands clasped tight and neither of us react.

Because it doesn’t seem real. It seems more like an old memory.

Failed.

But then I remember that we’re together, so it can’t be a memory. They just want it to feel that way. They want this to feel inevitable, I say to only Emerson. Because they know it’s bullshit.

I feel my sister stand a little taller beside me.

“We displayed exponential power,” Emerson replies, and her voice is calm. Unruffled.

Perfect.

“Exponential isn’t what we need from you girls,” Carol says sorrowfully. And I’m reminded of that slap of power at the dance. How it should have maimed me, but didn’t. “I’m afraid it’s just too dangerous.”

“It’s as clear as it ever was,” Felicia chimes in with a smirk she does nothing to hide. “Your power is wrong. Warped. It does not help witchkind in any way—it threatens us. You melded light and dark. We don’t do that.”

But I know she doesn’t mean witchkind. She means the Joywood. They don’t do that.

“We balanced more light and dark together than the seven of you could,” I retort, but I keep it sounding calm. “Is that the real issue?”

Felicia smiles the kind of nasty smile that invites me to fight back. She wants me to. Before, I wouldn’t be able to help myself.

But I’m a new me now. So I don’t take her invitation, no matter how much it hurts.

And believe me, it hurts.

“This time there will be no choices,” Felicia tells me, with obvious satisfaction. “No running away.” She looks at Emerson. “No wandering around like the village idiot.” And she doesn’t spare our friends. “And there will be no quarter given for your deceitful little collaborators.”

Felicia turns to Carol, but before Carol speaks, there’s a shout from the audience.

A loud, clear, “No.”

Emerson and I turn at the same time, and I’m sure we wear twin looks of absolute shock on our faces when we see who it is.

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