Page 121 of Truly Madly Magically

Somewhere far away, or maybe right here from within the Undine, something begins to chime.

Twelve times, loud and long.

It’s midnight.

The trials are over. Now it’s time for choices to be cast.

The Undine’s eyes are so bright I can’t even look her way. She seems to grow, become huge there before us.

“Samhain is upon us,” she booms out, so that her voice seems to spill out of all of us. Then into us again, fusing us together and yet tearing us apart. “The ritual comes to an end. The choice is between the Joywood or the Riverwood, according to all the old laws. Make your choice. Make it now.”

It is not a request. It’s as if we are all gripped in her stone fists. I feel my feet leave the ground as she holds on, lifting me up, as if she intends to squeeze the answer out of me—and it’s clear that she is doing the same thing to every witch in my vicinity.

Every witch in the world, then, as magic hangs heavy in the Samhain air around us. The veil is thin, and spirits begin to whisper. I listen hard, hoping for a glimpse of Elizabeth or Zachariah, but I don’t hear them. I can’t move, but I can feel my coven all around me. I know where everyone I love is, like points of light I can see with my heart. I can feel Zander and my child wiggle there inside me.

I saw a glimpse of my daughter born, who she could be. Dark-haired and violet-eyed. Happy in a world we helped make safe for her.

I think then that I will do anything to make sure she gets that future. Anything at all.

I don’t care what happens to me.

The grip on me from the outside demands a choice. Riverwood. I make it, with everything I am. This is my choice. My future.

Once I choose, that stone grip releases me. My feet hit the dais, and Zander is already there, his arm around me, muttering the words that release my bonds at last. The ropes fall away, and I turn in to him.

Around us, the rest of our coven have chosen too, and we link our arms together. We connect. We hope. We look out at our community, and we see so many faces smiling at us, believing in us.

All around us, feet hit the earth, and it’s as if I can feel an earthquake wrapping all around, witches everywhere forced to choose and then choosing in a great, fast wave—

Then the Undine—huge and bright and loud—holds out her marble arms.

“The choices have been cast. Your future has been decided.” She turns away from us. Toward the Joywood. We all hold our breaths. “Joywood, kneel before me.”

29

FIRST THERE’S THE truly glorious spectacle of the Joywood kneeling to the Undine.

Which looks a lot like them kneeling to us, and I don’t have any plans to become a power-hungry witch bitch like any of them, but I’ll admit that there’s a part of me that likes the view.

Even if it’s only a temporary thing, before they rise up again and smite us all down the way I know they’re itching to do.

Though the look on Maeve’s face is...odd, I think.

I frown, gripping Zander a little harder.

“The rule of the Joywood has ended,” the Undine booms out. “The Riverwood will ascend to ruling coven. The transition of power has begun and will last until Yule. In the interim, the Riverwood will have the final say in everything, starting now.”

She turns to us, all blazing eyes and intimidating size. “Riverwood, you have ascended. You now lead witchdom.”

I hear her, but I think I’m in shock.

Maybe we’re all in shock, because none of us move. None of us react.

“May we use our power wisely,” Frost says darkly, and I suppose it’s not surprising that he shakes off the shock first. After all, I’m pretty sure he’s done this before.

Even Emerson seems stunned. Until she blinks, and then smiles, like she was born for this.

I stop tracking what we’re doing, because the Joywood are losing their proverbial shit. A bunch of children who lost their toy and now want to break it, leaping up from their knees like they intend to rush us.

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