Come Tumbling Down (Wayward Children #5)(18)
Christopher whistled, long and low. “Invite me to the wedding, okay?”
Jack smiled. “I doubt you’ll be able to handle the commute, but I’ll light a candle to the Moon for you all the same.”
The door at the top of the stairs banged open and Sumi came skipping down, pausing when she saw Jack. Then she lit up, bouncing onto her toes and grinning as widely as her face allowed. “There you are!” she declared, loud enough that people could probably hear her three rooms away. “I wondered, but you put your petals back in place, and you’re the right rose after all! We’re going to have an adventure, did you know?”
“Miss West agreed, then?” Jack looked past Sumi to where Kade and Alexis were descending the stairs. “You’ll accompany us to the Moors?”
“We will,” said Kade. “You’re sure you can get us back here, right? This isn’t a one-way trip?”
“Dr. Bleak will gladly reward you for assisting us, if he’s able,” said Jack. Her face twisted, sorrow and resignation warring for ownership of her expression. “And if all is as I fear it may be, I’ll stand in his stead as new scientist to the Moors, heir to all the Moon’s commands. Either way, the lightning will see you home.”
“Jack…” Kade hesitated. “That sounds like a pretty permanent position.”
“The first marriage any scientist makes is to their art,” said Jack. “The second, if they’re fortunate, is to someone somewhat softer. I’ve found both the loves of my life, and I’m not so arrogant—although I am, let us be clear, quite arrogant—as to think I could do better. I’m going home. I’m taking up the place I have trained for since I was a child, if that’s what has to happen. Or perhaps I’m getting lucky, and Dr. Bleak will rise and hold his title for a little longer.”
The look in her eyes made it clear that she didn’t expect any further luck to be coming her way. She turned to Christopher and Cora.
“You’re quite welcome to accompany us: Christopher, at least, has skills that would serve him well in the Moors, and I’m sure you”—she nodded to Cora—“have useful things to offer, although I don’t know you well enough to guess at what they might be. The choice is yours. I should warn you that there are shadows in the sea where I come from. They might be more interested in you than you’ll entirely care for.”
“What, having managed to nab Kade and Sumi, you’re happy to leave the rest of us behind?” asked Christopher.
“Having managed to ‘nab’ the Goblin Prince in Waiting and the war heroine, you mean? Yes, I’m quite content. But we’re wasting time. Will you come, or no?”
“We’ll come,” said Cora, before Christopher could speak. She knew what his answer was going to be, could see it in the way he held his flute. He was hungry for adventure. He wanted to glut himself on it, to digest it slowly through the days ahead. Whether his door came for him again or not, he could at least remember there was magic in the world.
She didn’t think she could bear it if he left her behind.
Jack nodded, relief flickering across her face like lightning licking at the sky. “I swear I’ll do my best to get you home. Alexis?” She turned to the larger girl. “Will you do the honors?”
Alexis reached into the pocket of her apron and pulled out a key. Or at least, Cora thought it was a key; it didn’t seem like it could be anything else, given the way it fit into the curve of Alexis’s fingers. She’d just never seen a key crafted from living lightning before. It bucked and struggled against Alexis’s grasp, trying to break free and ground itself.
Alexis stepped forward and slid the key into the empty air, closing her eyes. Jack put her hands over Alexis’s, stepping closer, so the two girls were pressed together, holding each another steady, holding each other up.
“We’re sure,” said Jack, and together, they turned the key.
The room flashed white with lightning. It poured from the light fixture, cascading over Jack and Alexis before slamming, again and again, into the already-blackened floor. Alexis’s unbound hair stood on end. Jack’s hair, confined by a tidy braid, was more restrained, but Cora realized she could hear something under the pounding of the lightning.
Laughter.
Jack was laughing, high and bright and utterly delighted. It was the laughter of a child waking on Christmas morning to find a pony tethered to the bannister; it was the laughter of a monster rising from the primordial ooze to devour the world. Cora wasn’t sure which of those two thoughts frightened her more, and it was almost a relief that the lightning already had the hairs on her arms and the back of her neck standing on end, so she didn’t have to blame it on the laughter.
Thunder rolled through the room, loud enough to vibrate the shelves, and the lightning stopped. The key remained, now protruding from the brass keyhole of an old oak door. Jack grasped the handle.
“All right,” she said. “Let’s go home.”
PART II
THE MOORS
7?THE ROLES WE CHOOSE OURSELVES
THE OAK DOOR opened on a rolling hillside that stretched on for the better part of forever. Crimson moonlight painted every curve and corner, draping it like a shroud. Knee-high grass covered the landscape, peppered with patches of flowers, thorn brakes, and stunted, twisting trees.