Somewhere beyond the pain and the hopelessness and the despair of a world torn into little bits so small and bent that I was starting to wonder whether there was any possibility of putting them back together again.
But when Lecter (the Yag!) fell and his army collapsed, a cheer went up, so loud that the misty haze surrounding us turned blue for just a moment, before returning to its normal color, a white so pure it’s like snow. Familiar. That’s the word for it. Although it’s not cold anymore, this place feels like home, in a strange way. A good way.
Even as I stare down at Skye, who’s safe and alive and as beautiful as ever, I know it’s better this way. I get to be with my family, and she with hers. And I know that one day—hopefully not anytime soon though—I’ll get to be with her again.
I finally turn away from the Earth and a hand reaches out to wipe away my tears. “Thank you, Brother,” I say. “But don’t let Buff see you coddling me like that, he’ll never let us live it down.”
Wes laughs and it’s the most brilliant sound I’ve ever heard, because I’ll never have to miss my brother’s laugh again. “Then quit crying,” he says. “There’s nothing left to cry about.”
And though I know he’s right, the tears keep falling, spilling from eyes overflowing, even as Jolie emerges from the mist holding Wilde’s hand on one side and Mother’s on the other. Her smile is as bright and welcoming as the sun over fire country. She’s happy, so happy.
I never imagined I’d find so much life in death.
Buff and Feve appear next, laughing and telling stories. I have a feeling they’re going to become good friends.
“Come. Look,” I say, gesturing at the world that’s no longer ours.
And they do, crowding around, more and more Icers and Heaters and Stormers and Soakers and Dwellers surrounding the portal, gazing at our old friends. Our people united.
They’re okay and so are we and nothing will ever change that again.
New Wildetown
Sadie
This is a strange, strange land.
For one, it’s boiling hot all the time, even when the sun goes down. Secondly, I haven’t felt a drop of rain since setting foot in fire country. Storm country feels like it’s millions of miles away.
Although my heart yearns for the cool ocean breeze, familiar storms, and lush, flat plains of storm country, I’m content to stay here for a few more days. After all, I don’t know when we’ll get the chance to see our unexpected friends again, and I’ve grown closer to Siena and Skye than I ever thought possible. Remy seems to be getting on well with Circ and Hawk and a few of the other guys, too.
But I know that whenever we do leave, it won’t be forever. Already Gard’s been discussing a potential trade agreement with the Tri-Tribe leaders, one that will ensure our friendship and joint preservation for years into the future. Remy and I have already agreed to visit at least once a year, preferably when it’s slightly less hot.
Remy puts his arm around me and I’m tempted to lean into it, but I’m not that girl. Not yet anyway. Maybe someday I will be, when I’m old and decrepit and walking with a stick to support me.
Instead, I squirm away and wrap my arm around him, tucking him against me. It makes me even warmer, but it’s worth it to see the amused look on his face. “One day, when you least expect it, you’ll let me protect you,” he says.
“I know,” I say. “But for that to happen I’ll have to be lying unconscious with both legs broken.”
He laughs and just lets me hold him, and I’m glad he’s not too proud to let me do that.
While the embers glow and my head touches Remy’s and I look at the moon-brightened night sky, I see my mother and father and brother, Paw, smiling from somewhere else, somewhere that’s not as far away as I always thought.
And I smile right back.
New Wildetown
Huck
Being here seems impossible.
Not two days ago I was arguing with the other captains, who were about as fun to talk to as a pile of rocks. I never thought I’d convince any of them to come, much less a full quarter of the sailors. And yet now I’m here, in fire country, three of the fleet’s ships anchored to the south, just off the red cliffs. The battle was brutal and devastating—so many dead—but necessary work to defeat a tyrant, just like my father.
And the most amazing thing: I’m holding the hand of the girl who owns half of my heart. The other half belongs to the Deep Blue.
To this point in my fourteen yars of life, I’ve never been able to see my future a day ahead; but now, with the warmth of Jade’s hand tucked into my palm, I can see yars and yars, a whole lifetime worth living. With her.
My only concerns are the muscles and fists and swords and bows and arrows of Skye and Siena, both of whom seem intent on staring at me with dark eyes for the entire night. But when Jade looks up at me with her intense brown eyes, the ones that, not long ago, were so mysterious to me, everything else fades away and I’m alone with her.
And she moves closer and her lips are so small and perfect and wearing just the tiniest grin, which makes me smile and almost laugh, even as the fishlets are swimming and squirming through my stomach.
We kiss and everything’s right.
I know people are watching but I couldn’t care less.
I might kiss her for the rest of time.
New Wildetown
Siena
Jade and Huck are still kissing each other, and now even I have half a mind to knock him back to yesterday. She’s still just a child, after all. But I know that’s not entirely true anymore, ’cause she’s grown up just like the rest of us have, and her guy’s fought in two battles now and that should count for something in terms of his manhood. Plus, he managed to convince a quarter of his fleet to sail ’round the southern cliffs of fire country in order to help us. Seems only a man could do something like that.
So I just look away and lean into a kiss of my own from Circ.
“What was that for?” Circ asks. It doesn’t sound like a complaint, just a curiosity.
“’Cause I can,” I say.
He shrugs and gives me another peck.
Next to Circ, Lara and Hawk are arguing ’bout something, but they’re holding hands, too, which I just can’t get over. Who woulda thought? And yet, they seem like a perfect pair. Wooloo how the world spins and flips and changes faster’n Perry shouts insults at clutzy skinny girls in the desert.
The moon goddess is shining tonight, and she’s so bright I know that Wilde’s in there with her, watching over us, even now. We held a ceremony for her and Feve and all the rest who didn’t make it. I gave Feve’s wife and his kids a big hug each, and we cried t’gether. I’ll never fully get over my friends’ deaths, but Skye and me cut our fingers open and made a blood oath to be happy in honor of ’em. Then we smiled through the hurt and the pain and the tears staining our cheeks.
I talked to Veeva afterward, when I could tear her away from Grunt, who’s hobbling ’round, milking his injury for all it’s worth. But I won’t dare call him a shanker—never again. Veeva thanked me for saving his life, but I told her he saved mine. You couldn’t imagine the pride in her eyes. “That’s my stallion,” she said. They’ve been in their tent ever since, and I’m doing my best not to guess what they’re doing in there.
Tristan, who followed through on his promise to return with an army, helped us get the people with small injuries back to New Wildetown. We rode in the Glassies’ own fire chariots to do it, how ’bout that? The seriously injured are being fixed up inside the Glass City, something ’bout their Healers being better’n ours. We pray for ’em every night to the goddesses in the sky.
The Stormers and Soakers are staying with us for a while, in our camp. They sent Riders back to water and storm country to tell ’em what happened and ease their fears. Across the fire from me, Sadie’s got her arm ’round Remy, looking up at the star-speckled sky. Even now that the war’s over, she’s always got to be in control. It only makes me like her that much more.