“Would you still want this life, want the new order and low magic, if the mainland wasn’t watching? If it wasn’t dangerous to do high magic?”
She doesn’t answer right away, looking off into a faraway place I can’t see. I hold my breath and wait for her to show even the slightest sign of doubt, but she never does. “Yes. I don’t love the new order only because it gave us our lives back; I love it because it fulfills me in a way nothing else ever has. I love this island and this magic and delighting tourists. I would choose it over and over again, regardless of what was happening across the Passage.”
The answer guts me because I can never live up to that. I wish I believed in anything as much as my mother believes in the new order.
You did.
The thought pops into my head unbidden, but it isn’t real, isn’t something I can grab hold of. I was told that I once believed in something with everything I am, but without the memories, it’s just dust on the road.
“Do you ever think about him?” I ask, needing to change the subject.
“Galen? More, recently,” she says, eyeing me. “But not often, no. Your father asked me out not long after Galen and I ended things, and I knew from our first date that he was it for me.”
“How did you know?”
Her face softens, the way it always does when we talk about Dad.
“I could be myself with him,” she says simply. “We believed in the same things, and I didn’t have to put on a show or try to be someone I’m not. He accepted me fully, exactly as I am.”
“Thank you for telling me that,” I say.
My mother smiles and squeezes my arm. “You’re welcome. Now, why don’t we get Ivy over here and practice your hair and makeup?”
She walks to the phone, and my mind continues to work through our conversation. I’m glad we talked about everything, so glad I finally know the truth, but it doesn’t settle me as much as I wish it would. My mother has made choices I know I could never make, and while she told me about Galen to showcase our similarities, it only serves to highlight our differences.
Because apparently, I couldn’t accept that my time with Wolfe was limited.
I couldn’t accept that his world, his magic, wasn’t an option for me. I couldn’t accept that he wasn’t an option for me.
And even though Landon doesn’t want me to have to try with him, I do. But I didn’t with Wolfe. He told me I did things I know I would never do unless I was fully and truly myself.
My heart races and my palms sweat as I replay my mother’s words.
By her standards, Wolfe should be the absolute love of my life.
thirty-eight
The door to the rooftop opens, but I don’t turn around to see who’s joining me. The sunrise is beautiful today, and I try to stop the lump in my throat, knowing this will be my last sunrise living at home.
My dad sits on the couch next to me, pulling the corner of my blanket so it’s covering his legs. For a while, we sit together in silence, watching the sunrise over the island. Dawn has always been my favorite time, when the darkness recedes and the sky turns dusty blue before erupting into a rainbow of color.
I love it because it signals the start of magic, the hours of the day when I feel most alive and content. There is never enough daylight, and the night seems to stretch on forever, but at sunrise, time feels infinite.
I wonder what it would be like to be Wolfe, to know that I could practice magic at any time, day or night. To know that the only restrictions on my magic were the ones I created myself.
It sounds terrifying, that kind of unchecked power.
And absolutely stunning.
“Thinking about the wedding?” my dad asks, bringing me back to the rooftop. I look away as heat fills my face. Just once, I wish I could focus on the right thing.
“I can’t believe it’s tonight,” I say, looking down. I knead the blanket in my hands, but I stop when I notice my dad watching. I smooth the blanket and force myself to remain still.
“It’s okay to be nervous,” he says, looking out over the Passage. “It’s a big night.”
“I wish I could do the ceremonies separately,” I say, finally meeting his eyes. “I’ve been excited about my Covenant my whole life. I hate that I have to share it with Landon.”
My dad gives me a sympathetic look and places an arm around me. I lean into him, letting my head rest on his shoulder.
“I know, honey. I wish you could have the ball you’ve always dreamt of. But this is good. It’s important for Landon to see this part of you, for him to be included in it. You’re combining your lives—he should see you fully, as both a witch and his bride.”
“Would you be okay with him watching a rush?” I ask the question quietly, not wanting to be combative. I genuinely want to know what he thinks.
“That kind of display would terrify the mainlanders, and I suspect Landon is no exception.” He pauses, and I feel the rise and fall of his chest when he takes a breath. “But I wish it didn’t have to be that way.”
“Me too,” I say.
“I have something for you.” Dad pulls away from me and reaches into his pocket, revealing a worn red velvet box that he hands to me.
“What’s this for?”
“It’s your Covenant gift,” he says. “It’s been in my family for generations.”
I gently lift the lid and gasp. It’s a necklace, a long silver chain with a vial hanging from the end. There’s water inside the vial, swirling of its own volition. I watch as it rolls inside the glass, lapping up the sides and rushing back into the center.
“This is incredible,” I say, all the air leaving my lungs. “How is it doing that?”
“It was created the night of the very first rush, when our ancestors decided the only way to survive was to give up their darkness and work with the mainland. They drained their magic into the ocean, then filled this vial with the magicked water as a constant reminder of what they were working toward. It feels fitting to give it to you now, when their dream is being fully realized.”
I lift the necklace with shaking hands. The water is mesmerizing as it swirls around, and I think I could watch it forever. It’s the most beautiful piece of jewelry I’ve ever seen, bold and enchanting, such a far cry from the polished pearls and dainty diamonds of the Witchery today.
“Dad, I don’t think I can take this,” I say, rolling the vial in my fingers.
“Of course you can. This is your history, Tana. It’s who you are. I want you to have it.”
“Thank you,” I say, the words barely a whisper. Tears well in my eyes, and I blink them away and swallow the lump that’s formed in my throat. Everything aches, and I take several deep breaths.
“I love you, honey. You’re strong and independent and secure enough to question why you believe what you believe. You’re curious and unbridled and sensitive, so many things I admire. I could not have picked a better daughter, not even if I had magicked her myself.”
This time, I can’t stop the tears that spill over my lashes. “I love you so much,” I say, giving my dad a hug, holding on tight, wanting to stay here just a little longer. Stay his little girl instead of Landon’s bride.
“I love you, too.”
I wonder if he can sense that I’m struggling to let go, that he is the only solid ground I have left.
The door opens, and my mom comes bustling out with a notebook tucked beneath her arm and a large teapot and three teacups sitting on a tray.
“Today’s the day,” she proclaims, setting everything down and pouring us each a cup of tea. “How are you feeling, sweetheart?”
Her eyes are so bright and her smile so excited that it’s hard not to smile back. “Great,” I say, slipping the necklace from Dad over my head. “I can’t wait.”
“Oh, Tana, it looks perfect on you,” she says, touching the vial around my neck.