Page 88 of Truly Madly Magically

I dive right in and stay there, as long as I can.

Because the real truth is, I like it. This new version of us. It burns bright inside me like happiness, the kind of light even I can’t dim.

So maybe, I think then, wrapped around him and as lost in him as I’ve ever been, I’ll just give in.

Because if I know one thing about Zander and me, it’s that we’re as doomed as everything else.

22

IT’S WEIRD HOW doom is easier to bear with regular sex, my life settling back down to something almost like normal, and waking up every day to a man who refuses to be needled.

No matter how I try.

And I try a lot.

To call this unsettling is an understatement, because antagonism is what we do, but it’s not such a bad unsettling. Not compared to the fact that we all expect the next trial to begin in a few days, at most, and have no idea what it will ask of us. Every day we brace ourselves and wait for the Undine’s call.

It doesn’t come.

Meanwhile, Jacob keeps telling me that if I’d give him five minutes, he could poke around inside of me and see if there are any of those blocks we all read about in a children’s book.

I don’t believe I’m blocked. I’m all for risking myself and donating my blood to save the other Summoners out there, but wasting everyone’s time on a fairy tale is going to give me hives.

So I throw myself into work, into herbal alchemy and accounting, and yes, into Zander.

At first we expect the next trial to commence the following week, but ten days pass and nothing happens. Except we all get wound tighter and tighter. Even the ghosts seem on edge.

I try to make myself relax by spending a late afternoon taking Sadie around St. Cyprian for her thirteenth birthday. Sadie and I take a tour of October as interpreted by St. Cyprian. A delightfully autumnal mess of pumpkins and hay bales, scarecrows, and a preponderance of crow figurines. Face paints, apple cider, and dancing humans dressed in witch costumes.

We end up wandering lazily through Confluence Books for ages. Just me and her, like the fellow family introverts we are.

When I drop her off, Rebekah in tow for our safety-in-pairs deal, I dodge Stephanie’s twenty questions on pregnancy and Zander-related things as best I can. Then Rebekah and I drive out of their neighborhood, debating whether or not we should go out to Forest Park and take in the art museum, maybe get a snack—

Obviously, that’s when we get the next call from the Undine.

Joywood. Riverwood. Your second trial is imminent.

I glance at Rebekah as the summons booms through us both. She shrugs, then handles the transportation spell herself since I’m driving the car. She pops us—car and all—into the parking lot along the river. We climb out as Jacob and Zander are walking over from the ferry. Once the four of us hit the grass, we see that everyone else is already on the dais, waiting for us.

The Joywood are dressed in new, bright red cloaks that I think are a misfire. A little Handmaid’s Tale, no? I ask on our coven channel.

Under His eye, Georgie replies dryly.

Too creepy, Emerson says. The Joywood would like that a little too much.

Blessed be the fruit, Rebekah replies, earning the glare she was clearly after from her older sister.

Then we all settle in.

“Today you will indicate the contours of your brand of justice,” the Undine intones once there’s the appropriate silence.

The sun is setting, a riot of colors over the confluence. It’s chilly at last, and the smell of October bonfires lingers in the air. The leaves in the trees are starting to turn. The grass is no longer the bright green of spring or the deeper green of summer. The gathered crowd whispers and murmurs, no one daring to speak at a normal decibel level with the Undine’s eyes glowing.

I tell myself what I feel is excitement, not dread and anxiety.

“Both covens will discuss Skip Simon,” she pronounces at last.

A rustling goes through the crowd. It turns into a murmur. The Joywood almost look flummoxed. I’d feel smug about that if I knew what the hell this was. I don’t really remember what happened to Carol’s son after high school. Why would someone I barely remember have anything to do with an ascension trial?

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