Belladonna

Chapter Thirty-seven

Sebastian burst into the kitchen, jolting Michael’s groggy wakefulness.

Despite waking up again and again to reassure himself that he hadn’t been dreaming, he hadn’t wanted to sleep a minute longer this morning. On the other hand, he wanted to sleep for a week.

“What happened?” Sebastian asked, his voice as tense as his body. “The heart’s hope is gone. Glorianna’s Light is gone!”

“Not gone, exactly,” Michael said, trying to get his eyes to focus. “Just transplanted, in a manner of speaking. Want some koffee?”

“Not if you’re making it.”

“Fine, then. Do it yourself.” Which, all things considered, was a better idea.

Wishing he’d had a little more time to prepare for this, he leaned against the kitchen table and scrubbed his hands over his face. Once Sebastian got the koffee started, he said, “It’s good you’re here today.”

“I’ve been here every day, Magician,” Sebastian replied, still sounding tense.

“I know you have. I know.” He paused, needing to get the words right. “There’s always one that’s harder than the rest when they’re taken from you. One that has meant more to your hopes and dreams. One you love just a little more.”

Sebastian watched him and said nothing.

“Let me show you Glorianna’s Light.”

They left the kitchen and went around the side of the house. And saw her walking back from the walled garden. She hadn’t been ready to go inside, but she had wanted to stand at the gate. So he’d gone inside to start breakfast—and hoped she would still be on the island when he put the meal on the table.

Sebastian stood there, frozen, just staring at her.

“Threat and promise is what you called me,” Michael said quietly. “I made good on the threat. Together, Justice Maker, we made good on the promise.” He watched her move toward them. Saw her hesitate. “She took back her Light, and she came back to us. But she’s two halves of a whole, and it’s not a smooth fit anymore.”

“Glorianna,” Sebastian whispered. “Glorianna.”

“She might always be two halves that don’t quite fit together to make a whole.”

He watched the words finally take hold. Those sharp green eyes studied him. “In clear words, Magician.”

“Love isn’t just something you feel. It’s something you do. I love her, so I’m staying.” Michael smiled. “After all, my heart’s hope lies with Glorianna Belladonna. But she’s changed, Sebastian. Nothing will be the same as it was.”

Now Sebastian smiled. “This is Ephemera, Magician. Nothing is ever the same as it was.”

Michael watched Sebastian race across the lawn and sweep his cousin into his arms. Good music. Strong music. And one or two of those jagged edges inside Glorianna were smoothed out a little more just by Sebastian’s presence.

It would be all right. She would be all right.

As he turned to go back inside to make breakfast for the three of them, a movement caught his eye.

There, sheltered by the quartz-veined granite that stood for his home landscape, was a clutch of violets.

“Thanks, wild child.”

He grinned as he went back in the house. Then he sang as he worked. And he heard the music of her—the dark tones and the light—ring out over the island.

They would be all right, he thought as he put the meal on the table a moment before Glorianna and Sebastian walked through the door. It would take time, but they would be all right.