Page 115 of Dragon Fires Everywhere
He never comes.
Eventually, I hear people downstairs. Sounds in the kitchen. Breakfast being made and people chatting.
It’s morning, and it’s Emerson’s wedding day, so I can hardly hide. I need to put on a happy face and celebrate my friend.Even if my heart feels blended into a terrible little pulp.
But it isn’t hard to pretend otherwise when I get to the kitchen. Emerson has a floating to-do list that follows her aroundas she makes breakfast. Before I can try to take over, Rebekah waves me to the table.
“I told her I’d make breakfast, but she insisted she needs to move,” Rebekah says from her seat.
“I just had this really disturbing dream last night that I need to work off,” Emerson tells me.
“Join the club,” Rebekah mutters.
They both look at me, but I shrug. I didn’t sleep, so no dreams for me. Just the bone-deep worry that without Azrael lettinggo of his fear of my death—which is inevitable at some point—we can’t win this. So as little as I like the idea myself, whynot enjoy each other while we can?
“Was it Maeve drowning in a pool of black magic goo?” Ellowyn asks from the entry to the kitchen, a fuzzy blanket wrappedaround her shoulders.
“Yes,” Rebekah agrees. “In great, gooey detail.”
Emerson frowns at Ellowyn, then her sister. “How did you know?”
“You all had the same dream,” I say, puzzled. “The same dream of Maeve Mather drowning? What new evil is that?”
“If the rumors are true and our dream is true, it means that the only Joywood asshole left is Carol Simon,” Rebekah says.“So not a new evil, just the same old one. I wish that made me feel better.”
We all kind of pause. Carolisthe leader of the Joywood, their Warrior, and arguably still the most powerful witch inthe world. She’s nothing to sneeze at, with or without her coven.
Still.
“Surely together we’re stronger than Carol,” I say. “We have beat her every step of the way this year. Even with black magicinvolved.”
Emerson gives me one of her determined nods. “Exactly that.”
We all sit down and eat, and there’s a purposeful change in subject, from evil to dresses and shoes and flowers. Emerson issending off missives to her wedding vendors, clarifying last-minute details for the solstice festival that always hums alongbeneath the usual Christmas celebrations, apparently finishing up the last of the year’s chamber of commerce duties, and correspondingwith governing bodies in other witch-heavy areas on this, the day of our ascension to full power and rule.
No big deal.
I message nobody.
And sooner than seems possible, it’s time for all of us to get ready. There’s a nervy kind of excitement in the air as weget into our dresses and then help Emerson into hers. I do Emerson’s hair, a mix of my own skill and magic. Ellowyn handlesthe makeup.
Emerson’s mother pops in for a little bit. It’s the first time I’ve seen her since finding out her husband is my father. AndI have to think aboutthat. The fact Elspeth was never particularlykindto me, but not quite as cutting as she was to Rebekah and Ellowyn.
I guess I knew how to play a role after all.
Of course, it’s also possible she doesn’t know. My heart twists at that idea. That we’re all keeping a terrible secret fromher.
I am so tired of all thesesecrets.
Once Emerson is fully ready and Elspeth gets her fill of pictures, she makes a move to leave.
“I have some of the extended family to wrangle,” she says.“I’ll see you at the wedding.” She leans in and gives Emerson a kiss on the cheek. “You look beautiful.”
I think that’s it, but as she passes me, she gives me alook.
“It must be a heady thing to have access to the full archives,” she says.
I feel speechless, but I can’tnot respond.I cough. “I don’t take my responsibilities lightly.”
