Page 19

I woke up the next day to the tantalizing aroma of coffee wafting up from the ground floor. No, wait — from a little tray table sitting on our bed, complete with eggs and bacon and toast for two. Breakfast in bed courtesy of Lore and his talented tentacles? Yes, please.

I nudged Xander awake, kissed his hair when he complained, lavishing him with affection until he, too, realized that we had to deal with the very serious matter of eating a delicious, greasy breakfast. Just me and my husband, Xander.

My husband Xander! Imagine that.

Our first week, our first moments as a married couple. It felt like a faerie tale — or our twisted version of one, the two of us and all our friends and family somehow overcoming unearthly odds. A power-hungry queen, and an equally megalomaniacal guild master. The evil faerie godmother and the witch in her cottage.

That chapter was over. I couldn’t be happier to close that particular book. And speaking of books, it looked like SEER had thrown the book at Gertrude Goodness. Several books, in fact. Positively buried her.

Xander and I came downstairs after we’d gotten dressed, surprised to find a newspaper sitting on the kitchen counter. We didn’t have a subscription. Lore must have picked one up special so we could see the headline. Perfectly petty of him. I highly approved.

“BELOVED MASTER BAKER BETRAYS THE BLACK MARKET,” the headline shouted in huge, sensationalist letters. Accompanying the article were two photos, two versions of Gertrude Goodness: her familiar smiling face, and her grimacing SEER mugshot.

It was what she deserved. Gertrude truly must have believed that Titania would have a place for her in their new world order. They probably would have ended up killing each other, anyway.

Lore, it seemed, had already recovered from the blow of Gertrude’s betrayal. He knew he was worth every drop of his natural culinary talent, and we were sure to remind him at every opportunity.

“Amazing breakfast, Lore,” I called out. “Thank you!”

“Oh, that was nothing,” he trilled back from a whirlwind of tentacles and pots and pans. “You should see what I’m making for lunch. Actually, don’t do that. Stay right there. Go deal with your mountainous pile of gifts.”

As if I would say no to that.

“We should get married again,” I told Xander. “Just for the presents.”

He laughed. “As long as you organize it this time.”

A generous number of our guests had decided to gift us little envelopes of cash. Or gold coins, as in the case of the high fae nobles of the Summer Court. I didn’t know whether to be flattered or embarrassed, but Xander and I were happy to take anything to augment our flagging savings. Getting married was expensive, even with so many of our friends pitching in.

The largest sum of money, however, had come from Edric and Wilhelmina Wright themselves. I almost fell off the couch when Xander showed me the check.

“They gave us how much?”

Xander sighed. “Oh, it’s honestly a little embarrassing. Mother and Father probably think I’m wanting for money because of the wedding and — well, because I am, technically, unemployed.”

I stabbed a finger against the check. “I ask you again. Is this real? This has to be a prank.”

He shrugged. “It looks like we can cash it at the Convent of Infinite Sorrow, or maybe open a new account? It’ll be a good nest egg, in any case. A fine start.”

“A start?” I squeaked. “I could build an amazing version of the Gauntlet with this. Twelve amazing versions, even.”

He snatched the check away. “Hey, now, that’s supposed to be for both of us. It’ll help with the bills while I think about what to do with myself. Maybe get a teaching job at Grayhaven. Wouldn’t that be so funny? Me, a professor.”

I blinked at him, sensing the sincerity through his humor. “I think you’d be very good at it, actually. You really should consider it. You’d be the sexiest professor in Grayhaven history.” I grabbed my package and jiggled it for emphasis. “I’ll bring you an apple each day. These apples.”

Xander squinted. “Those aren’t apples.”

“My bad. I meant these nuts.”

“You’re so gross.”

“But you love it. You married me, after all.”

Xander laughed as he shoved me playfully in the shoulder. He went back to sorting our little cash envelopes. He didn’t mention the professor thing again, but I could tell he was thinking about it. I thought it was a fabulous idea. I could put a word in with Hecate — or was it Madame Catherine Grayhaven? — not that Xander needed my endorsement.

And speaking of Madame Hecate, the Grayhaven goddess of magic had gone out of her way to get us a very special wedding gift. I picked up the note, goggling at the contents of the box.

“‘They’ll only work if you wear them together. A pair of wings for our favorite lovebirds.’ Dude. This is wild!”

Xander held up the matching pairs of bright white sneakers. One pair had a wing attached to the left shoe, the other pair had a wing on the right. My boots of hovering — that was what Hecate meant! We probably needed to embrace or hold hands to fly with them. So cheesy. So damn cute.

“This is so awesome. How did she even know our size?”

I shrugged. “Magic goddess, remember? Oh, there’s something else written on the back. ‘Hermes will be very cross when he realizes these are gone. Enjoy.’”

Xander rolled his eyes and groaned. “Of course there was a catch.”

I licked my lips, studying the sneakers hungrily. “Maybe if he ever comes knocking, we can outrun him in these.”

He squinted, then leaned over, reaching for another gift in a more unusual shape. Maybe that was a polite way to put it. The gift had been wrapped in a ball of newspaper. Random pieces of yarn and string were draped over it, though none of them were actually knotted enough to hold the thing together.

“What in the world is this?” Xander shook the bundle, holding it up to his ear. “And who’s it from? There’s no card. Very, uh, avant-garde way to wrap a wedding gift.”

He opened up the bundle, the bits of string falling to the floor. It was as if the package had been wrapped by someone with only an approximate understanding of gift-wrapping — or by someone who lacked opposable thumbs.

Xander held up the mess of paper, peeled back like the petals of a crumpled newsprint flower. Sitting in its center was a familiar rock.

I swallowed hard. “Xander. That’s from Zephyr. It’s his favorite rock.”

His face scrunched up so tightly I thought he was going to cry. I bit on my lower lip. I didn’t know enough about gryphon culture, but that had to be the sweetest thing a five-hundred-pound mythical prey animal could have done for us.

Suddenly, Lore’s hovering crystal body lit up like a firework. Pots and pans clattered as his appendages dropped them all at once.

“Oh my goodness. Jackson? Incoming transmission. It’s an echo from your parents.”

Thin shafts of light radiated from Lore’s crystal, scanning across the living room until they converged into the familiar ghostly blue holograms of Luciana and Octavian Pryde. My throat felt thick. Xander’s hand found mine and squeezed. I squeezed back.

Octavian waved. “Kiddo, if you’re seeing this, that means that you, Lore, and Whitby have all leveled up somehow.”

“I leveled up,” Whitby whispered, his voice and his crystal bright with delight.

“I’m not sure what that means,” Dad continued. “Or maybe I do. Whatever this is that you’ve all accomplished — congratulations. Or something. Luciana, what are we even doing here?”

Mom rolled her eyes. “What your father is struggling to say, Jackrabbit, is that you’ve probably achieved new heights that you never thought previously possible. Whether that’s in terms of your career or your personal life — or both — we can only guess.”

“Yeah, what she said. We have the AIs periodically analyzing your metrics — all three of you, that is — and that’s how these echoes know when to trigger. This means that your Pryde particles are at maximum capacity.”

I laughed. “My what ?”

“Your Octavian atoms are at peak performance. And your Luciana lasers are super hot right now.”

“Octavian, please! What your father is trying to say is that you’ve all clearly done something worth celebrating. You must be so, so happy, and we’re absolutely delighted for you.”

“There.” Dad beamed, perfectly pleased with himself. “Exactly what I said. I did it after all.”

“Good work, sweetie.” Luciana chuckled as she patted his hair. Dad leaned into her touch. With a bittersweet twinge, I realized I was leaning my head the exact same way.

“But there’s only so much more you might accomplish,” Mom said, “which means that we might not have enough of these echoes to last you a lifetime.”

“Oh, there’ll be plenty more,” Dad said, chuckling. “Even some solo ones from me. But you can always ask the AIs to bring up any of the echoes for you if you want to watch them again.”

Mom waved. “Always, Jackrabbit. Any time you want to see us. We love you so, so much.”

Dad pulled off a sharp salute. “Until we meet again, kiddo. Tune in next time.”

The image flickered, then faded. So much warmth in my chest, and yet it all seemed crowded out by a sudden heaviness. I’d been dreading this from the start. The echoes would run out eventually. Of course they would. I hated to seem so spoiled, to see the negative in getting so many wonderful memories from my favorite people from beyond the grave.

But was it really so selfish of me to hope for a little more?

The words came so softly from my lips. “Is that the last one? You know. Before they — ”

My voice trailed off. I couldn’t put it into words.

“Hardly, Jackson,” Lore replied. “Your parents spoke the truth. I’m unable to access their contents at the moment, but it appears there are quite a few more echoes to unlock.”

Xander squeezed my hand again. “And we’ll cherish every one, no matter how many are left. Right, Jack?”

I nodded, forcing a small smile. “They’ve spoiled me enough as it is.”

Whitby twittered, an odd sound I never recalled hearing from him before. “Jackson? I just ran some searches through my archives. They must have been buried under the blast. There appears to be all this footage of your parents working at their workshop, back in the Halls of Making. Dozens and dozens of files. Hundreds of hours, if I’m not mistaken.”

I blinked, heart thumping in anticipation. “So it’s just footage of them doing artificing stuff?”

“Correct. This must have been from far before the accident, but there’s plenty of it. Look at this.”

A beam of light emanated from Whitby’s crystal as he projected a wavering image on the far wall. It was one of the original workshops, back in the days of the old guild. Dad sat at his workbench with his perpetually mussed hair, scratching the side of his head with a pencil as he stared blankly at his schematics. Mom sat on the opposite end of the table, gazing out into space while absently munching on some crackers.

“It seems like awfully unexciting stuff,” Whitby said, “but I can tuck it away into long-term storage for you. Maybe edit together some highlights?”

“Yes,” Lore offered softly. “Like Dominique and Sable. I can help. It’ll be our favorite show.”

“No,” I breathed. “Keep it all just the way it is. It’s perfect.”

One final gift from the Prydes. It was all I ever wanted, to have a little more time with my parents. Just silly, ordinary slices from everyday life. Whitby’s projection flickered. Succumbing to boredom, Dad wadded up a ball of paper and tossed it at Mom’s head. She glowered, then laughed, then tossed it right back in his face.

I buried my face in my fists and bawled like a baby.

Xander was kind enough to let me weep for a few more minutes, then gently reminded me that we had an appointment to keep.

“Right,” I said, wiping at my eyes. “Guildhall. Gods, I wish we didn’t have to do this.”

“It’s called Guildhall for a reason, Jack. It’s where you go to officially become guild master.”

Everything we’d worked for, it had all come to this. The Halls of Making needed a new leader. Fine. Well and good. I could put on my big boy shoes and be a grownup for one afternoon.

Actually, those Hermes shoes Hecate gave us were pretty nice. Xander and I put on our matching white sneakers, which went well with my nice slacks and that one nice button-up shirt I owned. Whitby zipped out the front door to follow us, then Lore, too. Lore locked up, leaving a fraction of his consciousness at home for the security system.

And with all four of us complete, our odd little crystalline family, we marched off to Guildhall.

I wasn’t expecting the roaring applause and all the cheering in the waiting room. Our buddies!

“Xander,” I whispered, quaking from every congratulatory pat on the back. “Did you arrange this behind my back?”

He winked as he pushed me right into the room. Preston, Beatrice, Sedgewick, Niko, Reza, Kaoru, Vikhyat, Lobelia, Irina, Giuseppe, hell, even Madame Hecate Grayhaven had shown up to witness my dubious ascension. It would be so painless, too, or so Eleanor Grouse explained. There was just a sheet of paper with a line I needed to sign.

“Now, traditionally,” she said, “a guild master uses their first name after the title. Makes them seem friendlier, I think, and more approachable to their apprentices. That’s the custom, but we won’t hold you to it. How would you like to be addressed?”

I’d given this plenty of thought. Guild leadership at the Halls of Making, it wasn’t just about me. It was about what we’d all done together, my friends and I, but especially my family. This was our legacy. I would live my life by my parents’ example, embodying the pride of the Prydes.

“Master Pryde will do just fine,” I finally said.

Eleanor Grouse smiled her rare smile. “Sign here.”

And so I did. The room went wild. Eleanor Grouse groused. Xander beamed, unable to contain his pride for his Pryde.

He tugged gently on my collar, smoothing out the creases in my shirt. “I don’t know about this Master Pryde nonsense. You’ll always be Agent Rock Hardman to me.”

“And you’re Agent Skunk Baby. Remember?”

Xander laughed and shook his head fondly. “You got me there. I’m glad I married you. You and all your quirks. You and your silly little games.”

“We’ll be playing even more of them together. You’re stuck with me forever, Alexander.”

“And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He raised his hand, pressing his palm again mine. With our fingers interlocked, it was a perfect fit, two pieces of the same puzzle.

Preston popped a cork, and everyone else threw confetti, and within moments I found myself holding a flute of champagne. I could feel myself blushing. Awfully sweet of everybody to show up and surprise me like that. Glasses clinked as Xander raised a toast to my good health.

I grabbed him and dipped him into a kiss. He tasted like champagne and laughter. Surrounded by our friends and our family — and with the grudging approval of one Eleanor Grouse — we celebrated love, peace, a long and happy life.

Later, during a lull in the festivities, I leaned closer as I picked confetti out of Xander’s hair. “I’ve got another name for you,” I whispered, my skin warm from drinking, a little of the fizz still in my blood.

“Don’t be inappropriate,” he whispered back, eyes flitting at all the others. “You’re way too sexy at the moment and I might give in.”

I chuckled, pulling him closer. “It’s not like that. I love Agent Skunk Baby — I love you — but you know what also sounds cool? Professor Alexander Wright.”

He held back a smile. “You really think so?”

That smile was having a harder and harder time staying hidden. I knew he’d been thinking about it since morning.

“A dual-income household? I don’t mind the idea at all. Well, triple-income, if Lore decides to really go into the baking business. As for Whitby, who knows? In any case, it’s up to you. You’re brilliant, and you’re kind — when you want to be — and I’m sure you want to share your natural talents with the rest of the world.”

I waggled my eyebrows, letting the words hang in the air.

Xander laughed, grinning bashfully. “Hmm. Okay. Professor Alexander Wright and his partner, Master Jackson Pryde. You know, I like the sound of that.”

“I know you do. Again, it’s totally up to you. Anything you want.” I kissed him, hard and quick. “Everything you want.”

He beamed, his lips tight, like they were holding back a secret. “I’ll think about it.”

I knew that meant “Yes.” Because now we could finally live our lives safe from the scourge of Chrysanthemysts and Fevers and secretly villainous guild masters. Finally — fucking finally, it was over. We were free to do absolutely anything we wanted.

We were free.

I kissed him again, one last smooch before we left guildhall, but one in a long line of many, many more kisses to come. And hugs, and orgasms, and birthdays, and celebrations, and everything else. Xander grabbed my hand and pulled, and we ran down the steps together, laughing as the Black Market breeze tousled our hair, as the sun kissed our skin.

“Hey,” Beatrice shouted at our backs. “Where are you bozos going?”

“We don’t know,” I shouted back, and meant it, delirious with laughter. “Home. Or Paris. Or another adventure.”

“Anywhere,” Xander breathed, pulling me ever forward, giggling madly. “Everywhere, Jack. As long as it’s with you.”

As long as we had each other. Gods, I felt lighter than air, on cloud nine. I felt like I could fly.

Oh, gods. Our shoes. The winged sneakers!

Wordless, breathless, speaking in nothing but the language of laughter, we lifted off together, little wings on our feet buoying us into the sky. Below us, the Black Market bustled, this place where a man could buy anything, where every wish came true.

Mine certainly did.

Hand in hand, we flew into forever.

Jackson and Xander’s journey has just begun, but for now, the story of Arcane Hearts has come to its close.