EPILOGUE
I just hope this dance goes better than the last one,” Loch said wryly.
“Well it couldn’t go much worse,” Muirin shot back, cutting in front of him deftly and snagging a Coke from the snacks table.
“Oh, hush, Murr-cat.” Addie said. She glanced back at Spirit and Burke. “You’ll jinx things.”
“Never borrow trouble,” Spirit said. “The world gives enough of it away free.”
Burke chuckled ruefully in agreement. “That’s the honest truth.”
The gym had been decorated for the dance, not with a Christmas theme—as Spirit had half expected—but with an entirely nondenominational “winter” theme in silver, white, and blue. That meant giant glittering snowflakes hung from the rafters, streamers of white and blue crepe, and a lot of helium-filled balloons in the dance’s signature colors clustering up near the ceiling. This time, the theatrical backdrops were painted with scenes of fantastic winter landscapes—some containing unicorns and fairy-tale castles—and all (as far as Spirit could tell) serving as an excuse for glitter. A lot of glitter. Of course, if the decorations made no concession to the holiday, the playlist certainly did. Practically every third song was an updated techno rap trance rock version of a familiar Christmas carol.
It was hard to believe that the five of them had stood in this very place just about six weeks ago, Spirit mused, and—and the most important thing on her mind was whether Loch or Burke would ask her to dance with them, and what she’d say if they did. So much had changed.
She’d changed.
It wasn’t knowing about magic, because she’d known about that the day she came to Oakhurst. It wasn’t just knowing that the safety she’d been promised here at the school didn’t really exist, either, because since the night her parents had been killed, Spirit hadn’t really believed in safety.
No.
Part of it was knowing that when danger came, she wasn’t helpless. She could fight back. It might not look as if she could win, but she could still fight.
But the other part was knowing that the danger was much bigger than anything she could ever have imagined.
“You want some, uh, some punch or anything, Spirit?” Burke asked her.
“No, moron,” Muirin said. “She wants to dance with you. You’re supposed to be her date, remember?”
“Smooth, Muirin,” Loch murmured. “Real smooth.”
“Why yes, Muirin, I’d love to dance with Burke,” Spirit said, her voice dripping with irony as she turned to face him. Burke was actually blushing. “I really would,” she added more quietly, taking pity on him.
“Good,” he said, gulping. “That’s . . . good.” Belatedly remembering his manners, he held out his arm to her. “Shall we dance?”
Spirit took his arm. She was so glad that—for reasons known only to Muirin—she’d all but pounced on Spirit as Spirit was dressing for the dance this evening and demanded that Spirit take—and open—her Christmas gift early. It had been one of those rayon “broomstick” skirts in a gorgeous sky blue, and while Spirit was stammering out her embarrassed thanks, because a handmade book cover really didn’t seem to be in the same league, Muirin relented and said it wasn’t just from her, but from her and Addie. The skirt went beautifully with the remade top that Spirit never really had the chance to show off at Halloween, and was a lot “dressier” than her blue jeans.
A slow dance was playing as they moved out onto the dance floor. Burke put his arms around her as if Spirit were made out of spun glass—red-hot spun glass. “This time last night I would have laid long odds against . . .” Burke’s voice trailed off.
“I know,” Spirit said, moving easily with him in time to the beat of the music. May your days be merry and bright, the singer crooned, but theirs weren’t going to be, would they? This was Oakhurst.
“We still don’t know who summoned up the Wild Hunt in the first place, do we?” she asked. “Or what they really wanted to use it for. I know Doctor Ambrosius says we—magicians—have enemies, but . . .”
“But if they know where we are, why haven’t they done something about us—about him—a long time ago?” Burke wondered.
“Maybe they are,” Spirit said. “And I think . . . that’s what we’re going to have to find out.” But not tonight, she told herself. Not tonight.
Tonight she could dance with Burke and pretend that her life was still ordinary.