Ellis stands up with a hand from Fletcher and then drinks the pep down in one go. “I need some fresh air.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“No.” Ellis passes him her glass. “Just give me a minute.”
Fletcher watches her go out to the garden and then looks to his mum. “Should I-”
“No, give her a minute. The protections are back up, stronger than before. She’ll be safe.”
“Is she okay, do you think?”
“Fletcher, of course she’s not. She’s not a born witch, and she just travelled back in time. Her body and her mind are likely raging against what’s happened, and she’s probably scared and exhausted and missing her family. Of course, she’s not okay. But she’s safe and we’re so close to the end now.”
“I’m so proud of her.”
“I know. And give her a little breathing space and you can tell her. Just relax. All of this is new to her and scary to her. A lesser girl would have run away from it all, refused to get involved. She’s pretty special.”
“I know that.”
Elodie kisses his cheek. “Now, I will ring Ember and ask her what progress she has made, and then we need to undo the original magic. As soon as possible.”
“Are you going to contact the other species first or after?”
“I thought after.”
“It might be good to bring them in on it?”
Elodie looks unsure. “I’ll see what Ember thinks.”
“I’m just thinking it’s a way of proving to them we mean no harm, and definitive proof that we’ve done it. They’ll know without a doubt that we’re telling the truth.”
“I can see what you mean. I suppose I’m putting off seeing them at all. They’ll be so angry.”
“They will, but maybe less so if they can see what we’re doing, and if we can explain what we’ve done. We’ve done it. Zeta is dead. Efa is dead. Most of the rebels are dead, and we’ve been back in time to amend the original magic so we can undo it. We can let all the supernatural species take their authority back. They can’t be angry once they know what we’ve done. Nobody reasonable could.”
“Who says they’re reasonable?” But Elodie nods. “I think it’s a splendid idea. Let me talk to my sister and then we’ll decide. I want to do it today, regardless, so maybe we offer them an invitation to come and see us do it, fix it, whatever, and let them decide. If they’re too angry to come, we can tell them once it’s done.”
Elodie leaves Fletcher alone in the kitchen and he sits for a minute with his head in his hands, running his fingers through his hair, scratching at his head. His skin feels weird, and his head hurts. They’ve done something so incredible and he wants to tell Ellis how proud he is of her; how happy she makes him, but he needs a minute. He thinks his mother is probably right about the jetlag, and he needs a drink and some food.
He cannot wait until the end of the day, when the magic is reversed, the other species are all freed, and maybe they’ll all sleep well.
He makes three sandwiches, one for him to eat now, and one each for him and Ellis when she comes back in. He swigs some pep and then sips at a coffee. He doesn’t want to rush Ellis; he understands her need to have some time for herself, but he doesn’t want to ignore her either. He knows well enough how weird girls can get – he lives with four of them after all.
Two more minutes and then he’s ready to go outside.
“Ellis.” He calls out her name as he steps outside, the evening a little colder than he thought. He pulls his hoodie from around his waist and pulls it over his head. “Ellis.”
She’s not on the swing seat where he thought she’d be, or on the bench. The garden isn’t huge, but it is long. He heads to the bottom end, still calling her name, but not too loudly. He’s not concerned. He knows the extra protections put in place after the demon attack on the twins mean that nobody can get into the enclosed space.
A prickle of unease passes over him, causing him to scratch at his skin again. “Ellis!” This time he shouts her name, and there’s still no answer. He runs to the very bottom of the garden, and his heart almost stops.
The gate is open.
Ellis is gone.
Ellis
I cannot stay inside. I don’t want to cry in front of Fletcher or his mum, and I’m not sure what I’ve done, what I’ve agreed to.
Okay, so I know, but I wish I didn’t.
I cannot even change my mind, and so I have to accept it.
When we perform the magic spell that will undo the original magic, I will die.
The ultimate sacrifice. I will die, so that everybody else can live.
What the fudge is wrong with me?
If anybody has asked me – before Sadie did – I would have said my choice would not be selfless. No way, no how. I don’t want to die.
But when she asked me, I surprised even myself. I must be a good witch, a better person than I even I knew.
I have agreed to die.
And now I cannot look at Fletcher without tears pricking in my eyes. I will lose him and everything else. Today.
I sit on the swing seat and push myself back and fore. If I tell him, maybe he can change it.
And if he can’t?
I can’t put that decision on him. I decided; I made the choice.
Me. Only me.
And the thing is, if I had made the other choice, the choice where everybody dies, nobody would have known. There were no witnesses to me agreeing to be a sacrificial lamb. And so, it must be my
