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Witch And Wizard: Fire Part 22

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Whit SEVERAL SECONDS Pa.s.s. No one says a word, and the silence shrieks in my ears like a million wailing ambulances.

But then, as if taking a breath from a short swim, Celia emerges from a wisp of fog, glistening and spectacular. And I start breathing again.

I stand up on shaking legs and try to take her into my arms - her light is so bright it's almost blinding.

I'm still sobbing. With all of that pain, all of that emotion finally unleashed, I wonder if I'll ever be able to stop the torrent of tears again. In front of my parents, and my little sister, and the thousands of people in the crowd who have watched this whole spectacle and think I'm some big hero, I'm choking back hiccuping breaths like a kid.

But I don't care. All I can see is her.



"I know, baby," Celia whispers softly, her face so close to mine. "I know."

I can hardly feel her at all, and she's not looking at me like she usually does. It's like she's still far away, less here. It's seems like each time I see her, she's less real.

The One is gone, so why does everything still feel so very wrong? I don't want to ask her why she's different, why she's looking at me like she's already let us go, because my heart can't take that right now. So instead I ask what every other soul here is wondering: How could she possibly come back from that writhing ma.s.s of One?

"What did you do?" is all I can manage to say.

Celia pulls back from me, slipping through my fingers. "I'm not sure. I think all of our powers were working in reverse. Magic works differently in the Shadowland. We think it pa.s.ses through here to the Overworld from other realms, so -"

"Talk to me like I'm not going crazy, Celes," I say, groping to find a way to cup her ethereal face. "Even after all that's happened, this is still too much to follow."

"You're able to heal, so you were able to hurt," she goes on. "Wisty can create electrical impulses, so she could shut them down, too. And I " She pauses, trying to make sense of all of it. "You brought death to his body; Wisty brought it to his mind. And well, I'm a Half-light, so I'm half life, half death. I think I brought death to his soul."

I'm still trying to process this. "I thought you'd become a part of that monster." My voice wavers, the sobs threatening to return.

Celia nods slowly. "In a way, I did." I can't grasp that. "But I needed this, Whit. I needed to pay him back. For stealing my life. For stealing our life together."

Chapter 83.

Wisty THANKS TO MY brother's awesome healing spells, the drawbridge across the River of Forever is back in working order, fully lowered and functional, looking like it never even encountered the wrath of the elements. And with The One's influence gone, the crowds slowly begin to file across again.

The Resistance - Emmet, Janine, Sasha, and the others - are standing downstream, holding hands and grinning at us. Sasha lets out a wild whoop and Emmet's supporting a beaten but not broken Byron, who gives me a wan thumbs-up. I return the signal, and for a while we all watch as the natural order is restored, souls moving on and journeys coming to a close.

I stand with my family, and Feffer runs up and licks my hand. After all this poor pup's been through, she's ready to go home. We all are.

Someone starts softly singing one of the great Forbidden Hymns, and before long hundreds of people are singing together. The song builds and falls, and the voices are so beautiful you could almost forget we're in the land of the dead. Hearing my mother sing again is almost too amazing for words.

Then Dad motions for Whit to come toward him, and when he does, Dad squeezes him in a ferocious hug.

"You take care of your sister, now, champ," Dad says solemnly. "Like always." He looks at me with a sparkle in his eyes. "And you. I know you'll stay out of trouble, won't you, Wisty? Make your old man proud. Like always."

Every alarm in my head goes off, and my autoimmune responses go nuts. We finally have our parents back. So why is this starting to feel like good-bye?

"Dad?" I squeak, eyes searching and welling with tears, and when he won't meet my gaze: "Mom?" I look to her, demanding an answer.

She strokes my hair. "It's our time, sweets. We've been here waiting, just like everybody else. It's time to finally see what's on the other side of that river."

They step forward to join the line of spirits. "To cross over," my dad confirms.

Chapter 84.

Wisty PANIC CONSTRICTS MY chest while adrenaline surges into my ears. I'm pulling at my tangled hair as angry, ugly tears stream freely down my face.

My parents are moving toward the bridge, holding hands, brave, ready to face their fates, just like they were that day at the execution. And just like that day, I feel utterly helpless. Just like that day, I'm going to let my parents slip right through my fingers.

And The One wins. Again.

"Wait!" I shout, the plaintive, sharp edge of the word piercing the air.

Mom and Dad turn, expectant. They are two tiny, anonymous silhouettes against the red gash of sky.

"Just wait a minute," I whimper softly, my mind racing. "This feels wrong. This is not how it's supposed to go."

"I know, I know, sweetie," my mom coos to me, stroking my hair, trying to calm me down. Placating me.

I brush her hand away. "No! I mean, it really feels wrong. It's time, yes, but what if it's time for us to go home again? All of us. Together."

I step between my parents and the crowds of people streaming along the River of Forever. The wind whips against me. Please, I chant to myself. Please. Please.

"But, honey," Mom reasons, "we're dead. You have to understand that this is what happens next."

"They got it wrong. I just know that it's all wrong," I plead, my eyes burning from the tears. I squeeze my mother's arms. "I can feel you. You're not spirits, and you're not Lost Ones. You have substance. How do you explain that?"

My dad looks around at the spirits, at the flowing river flickering through their bodies. "It's true, Eliza. We never lost that, not like everybody else."

"But how are we still part of the living?" Mom asks. "I felt death. I felt my breath leave my body."

I shake my head, uncertain. "Maybe it has to do with The One. He used that power to vaporize you so maybe now that he's gone, the spell is lifted. Maybe now you can go home."

Dad puts his hand in Mom's. "Maybe she's right. Maybe we really can go home. We can certainly try."

"It'll work." I nod vigorously, suddenly relieved, suddenly more sure of this than I've been of anything in my life: my parents weren't meant to die. At least not that day.

I'm beaming at them, so excited, but something else is wrong.

Whit is looking at Celia with the most heartbreaking expression I've ever seen. Anybody can see that he's hoping the same is true for her. He touches her arm, but it's still flickering somewhere between here and there.

Not solid.

She shakes her head before he can say anything, and he interlaces his hand with hers. "It could work, Celes. You don't know for sure if -"

"I know," she whispers, a single tear sneaking out of her eye. If it were just her and Whit she might break down, but with my whole family watching her guiltily, she sucks it up and takes a deep breath.

"It's not like with your parents, Whit. It wasn't a mistake with me; it wasn't a spell. I was murdered by the hands of a greedy, violent person, and I don't get to come back. I don't get a future. I know you don't want me to go, but -"

"Then why were you a Half-light? You weren't like all of the other spirits at the river, just waiting to cross over. Why would you cross now?" Whit refuses to back down.

"I think I've been stuck in the Shadowland so that I could help you, protect you like you always tried to protect me when I was alive. Having that chance to help destroy The One was my purpose. I know it sounds impossible, but I'm ready. I'm ready to cross over, to be all light."

Whit shakes his head defiantly, and Celia takes his face in both of her hands.

"Yes, baby. It's my time."

Chapter 85.

Whit "YOU'LL SEE ME again someday, Whit. One day you'll have to cross the river yourself."

I cannot do this. I cannot let Celia go. Not again.

"You don't know that. You don't even know what's on the other side, or if we'll ever see each other again. Do you really want to take that chance, Celia? Just leave all this - everything we have - and go into some unknown?"

We walk away from the group, where Sasha is arranging a buddy system for the journey back to the Overworld. Wisty is giving me a look of utter pity, and in the moment I totally resent her for it.

"Whit, don't be like this," Celia says while we're walking. "You know I was never meant to stay here. I think everybody can agree that pale was never a good look for me." She laughs, but it feels forced.

I don't even crack a smile in response, and I'm staring into her eyes solemnly. Celia looks sad but frustrated, too. She knows that, for the first time ever, I don't want her to have what she wants. I need to be completely selfish for once in my life.

"Come on, baby, do you really want to see me stuck here in this limbo, never able to experience The After, and instead getting weaker and more consumed by death every day?" I won't meet her eyes. "Is that what you really want for me?" she presses.

Yes! I want to shout. I want you within arm's reach, always. A portal away, stuck in this h.e.l.l, if it means I don't have to lose you.

Instead I sigh and shake my head no, feeling guilt and unbearable desire at the same time.

"At least we get to say good-bye this time. Come here."

Celia pulls me close, and for a brief, exhilarating moment, we merge. I feel her light surge through me, more warm, more healing than I could've imagined. My head swirls with love and beauty, and when we part, I think I finally understand.

What we had was so perfect in the world before the New Order, but that isn't the world anymore, and we're not the same people. I can't keep her trapped in this prison just so she can be the idealized version of what I hoped to have.

I'm ready to let her go.

I inhale her sweet scent and bury my face in her curls, and then watch as she walks away from me. No good-byes. That merge was everything we needed to say.

Janine comes up and stands by my side, her hand on the small of my back, comforting me, supporting me as Celia disappears over the bridge, light forming a bright halo around her.

After she crosses, I look down at Janine's face, drained and unbelievably pale. It looks like it's all she can do to keep standing, let alone sustain me.

"Janine!" I shout, alarmed.

It's okay, she mouths, and then collapses into my arms.

Chapter 86.

Whit WE PULL UP to the old house, Dad and Mom in the front, me and Wisty bickering over who gets to sit closest to the one functioning window in the back, just like old times. You'd think that after conquering the world's most evil being and restoring peace and order for all, we'd be a little more mature, but sometimes the most comforting thing in the world is being able to hold your kid sister in a headlock and beg your mom to change the radio station already.

We sit in the van for a few minutes - it's the old van from the Resistance days - taking in the neighborhood. The tree I crashed into on my bike, the bush next door where Wisty hid when she ran away, the porch swing where I used to kiss Celia. Mrs. Tillinghast across the street reviving her garden, Mr. Hsu taking the boards off his doors and windows. We're not quite ready to believe we're really here, that all of this is real, that our old lives are where we left them.

I'm aghast. "I thought it was all gone. Wiped out by the New Order."

"Amazing what kind of magic can happen when good triumphs over evil," Dad says seriously. "Never underestimate the difference it can make."

"Stuff actually looks pretty much the same," Wisty quips.

"Yep, even the same leaky pipes, same garage door that sticks, same bathroom needing a coat of paint," Mom says wryly, looking at Dad.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm on it," he replies, but they're both smiling from ear to ear.

He takes her hand, and they turn around in their seats to look at us.

"Do you know how very, very proud of you guys we are?" Mom says, tears glistening in her eyes. "You're the most courageous, compa.s.sionate kids - nearly adults - that any parent could ask for."

It sounds cheesy, but Wisty and I are seriously beaming like a couple of morons.

"We owe you so much," Dad continues. "Not just our freedom, or our home, but our lives, and each other. Without you we'd be -" My parents lock eyes, and Dad's start to well up.

"Dad, you don't owe us anything." My voice cracks.

My dad shakes his head as if waving the emotion away. "All I'm saying is you did good, kids." He squeezes my shoulder and then Wisty's hand. Tears are streaming down my sister's face.

We sit like that for a minute, just thankful for one another, and then Mom starts laughing and wipes the water off her cheeks.

"So what are we waiting for?" she asks so brightly that we all laugh, too. "Let's get our house back."

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