Page 114 of Dragon Fires Everywhere
The snow hasn’t cooperated, so she did it herself, decorating the old town with a lovely, magical dusting of snow that isall charm without the iciness and bitter cold. Plus no cleanup afterward. Humans will marvel that it all melted away in thenight.
Assuming we win. But then, Emerson always assumes we’ll win.
Tonight we send the men away so we can have a little bachelorette party of sorts. Only it’s Emerson. And it’s us. So it’sno raging party. It’s just an old-fashioned sleepover like we had when we were young. Before the pubertatum. Before everythingchanged.
It feels a bit like the sentimental goodbye to our childhood that we never got. Melisande even crashes the party for a bit and has us crying with laughter at her tales of men she’s literally and metaphorically caused to crash upon the rocks.
“Deep down,” she tells us with that smile of hers, “men are fools whowantthat crash. It’s all in how you frame it.”
We nod sagely. It might not be traditional prewedding talk, but we enjoy it anyway. When she retires to the chandelier forthe night—because I look good in crystal, thank you, she tells us—Ellowyn flops back on her couch. “We just partied with a mermaid,” she says with a laugh. “Zander is goingto besojealous.”
Emerson yawns. “I know what Rebekah is going to say, but I think that’s all I can handle.Some of usneed our sleep for tomorrow.”
“You were always such a sleepover killjoy,” Rebekah says, but with that sisterly fondness.
“That’s exactly what I knew you’d say.”
Rebekah shakes her head. “All right, before bed, one last toast.”
She magicks us all little flutes of champagne—sparkling cider for Ellowyn—and we hold them up to Emerson.
“To Emerson. Our oldest sister—in blood, and spirit,” Rebekah says.
“Our fearless leader,” Ellowyn adds.
“The best friend anyone could ever be blessed with and, no doubt, about to be the champion wife of all wives,” I say, lettingthe tears fall.
Emerson sniffles but doesn’t cry. “I do like being the champion. Which is why Iknowtomorrow is going to be the best. Because I’m marrying Jacob, and because we weren’t justmeantto lead. We wereforgedto lead, to unite. Tomorrow, the Riverwood coven ascends. And we will find a way to defeat black magic—before or after. No one can tell us what we can or can’tdo. I know we will succeed, because we’re ready to do whatever it takes foreveryone.” She nods as if confirming it. “Some things are just meant to be.”
She believes this. About Jacob, certainly. But also about the Riverwood and our eventual success. About her ability to bringeveryone together, and serve them fairly.
The truth is, she has always believed this, no matter the setback, the betrayal, the heartache, the loss. She believed allof this, even before she knew who she was or what had been done to her.
“I thought you were tired, Em?” Rebekah reminds her as she gears up to say more.
Emerson huffs out a breath. “Oh, fine. No speech.”
But then she holds out her arms, and we all move together in a big four-way hug.
“I love you guys,” she whispers fiercely.
So we all hug, cry a little, and go to bed.
Or Rebekah and Ellowyn do, but Emerson grabs me on the way up the stairs to our respective rooms.
“I thought about not telling you, but... well. I saw the votes change a little earlier, at last. The majority is for Azraelbeing free. He can leave the cemetery, and we don’t have to decide what to do with him.”
“Can’t the votes go back?” I ask, rather than think about what this means.
“I suppose they could until tomorrow, but that doesn’t mean he can’t walk free until then.”
“Did you tell him?”
Emerson shakes her head. “I imagine... well, he should feel it.”
“Right.”Right.And if he felt it... he would be here. If he wanted to be.
He doesn’t want to be. He isn’treadyorbraveenough to be, and that’s fine. I tell myself this. All night. Sitting in my bed, wide-awake, Octavius asleep on my pillow,just...waiting.
