It was easy enough to sort the new wraths from the old. The new wraths—most of them former Knights—stood around the dusty lot of Burger Time, blinking and staring at the weapons in their hands as if they’d never seen such things before. The old wraths fled quickly. Some took off as soon as half their army turned into regular, dazed-looking men, the others left as soon as their leader was escorted to the side of the diner at gunpoint. But Liv wasn’t sure where these wraths would hide—nearly all of them now looked like themselves, full-blown monsters, the kind who’d seem conspicuous standing outside of a Burger Time in Sherman Oaks in broad daylight.
Joe had regained his faculties quickly enough, getting a firm grip on his gun and swiveling around to point it at his brother. But Malquin’s own attention was on the sky. With every second, more and more orange faded away. At first it looked like nothing more than a particularly violent sunset, then the fading afterimage of one. Then complete blue—a blissful, calm blue—stretched wide across the sky.
“How?” Malquin murmured, alone and cowering near the diner wall, watching his army flee. Joe kept his gun trained on Malquin as Liv looked on from his side. Cedric and Kat, both heaving and worn-looking from their fight, came to join them as well.
“The important question is not how,” Cedric said. “It is what to do with you.”
“He deserves to die,” Kat said, her voice flat. “In Caelum, he would be executed swiftly, not just for his crimes against our land, but for the murder of a king.”
Joe swallowed hard, his eyes never leaving Malquin’s face. After a moment, he spoke.
“I thought I could reach him, but . . .” He took two steps back, his eyes still trained on Malquin. He nodded in Cedric’s direction.
“I understand what you have to do.”
Cedric looked at Joe grimly before stepping in front of Malquin. He gripped the hilt of his sword and raised it over Malquin’s neck.
“Please,” Malquin said, his voice high. He scrambled back against the wall of the diner, his fingernails splayed against the fading wood. “I showed you mercy, Prince. At the first invasion, I could have had the wraths kill you, but I kept you alive. I kept your whole family alive—”
Cedric’s eyes flashed, and Malquin stopped, seemingly realizing his mistake.
“I should not have killed the king, it’s true. I was so angry, but—it’s no excuse. I just wanted to get revenge on those who’d killed my brother, just like you’re trying to get revenge now. You understand that, don’t you?”
Cedric stared down at Malquin, his jaw tight. The muscles in his arm flexed and shook. Liv couldn’t tell if he was fighting to keep the sword raised, or fighting to keep himself from smashing it down over Malquin’s neck.
“Joe,” Malquin said, shifting his gaze. “Please, you’re my brother. My family. Don’t let them do this, please.”
Joe shut his eyes briefly, and sighed. “I am your brother, John. And you’ll always be mine. But you’re too far gone. Maybe you’ve been too far gone since the day Eric disappeared. I should have helped you then, and I couldn’t. But that doesn’t mean I’ll help you now. Your fate is in Cedric’s hands.”
Malquin’s eyes bounced wildly back to Cedric, then to the sword in his hand. “Please.”
“Cedric,” Kat said, her voice gentle but firm. “You can do this. For your father.”
But Cedric didn’t move. His feet stayed firmly in place, his sword raised high over Malquin’s head. He turned to look at Liv. Their eyes met, and she cocked her head, trying to guess what he was thinking. His blue eyes squinted slightly, and it took Liv a second to realize why—the sun was shining down in them. The sun was back, bright in the sky.
Cedric lowered his sword.
“No.”
“Cedric—” Kat started.
“In Caelum, this . . . man . . . would be executed immediately for his crimes. That is the way we have always done things, but it does not mean it is the best way. I’ve seen things work differently in this world.” He paused, taking a breath. “We can be different, too.”
Liv thought again about the professor in the woods of Caelum, of his death that had been lonely and brutal, whether or not it was justified. And though Malquin had caused much more pain and destruction than the professor ever had, she felt her insides swell at Cedric’s decision. It was something more than just caring for him—it was pride.
Malquin’s head shot up toward Cedric, his eyes filled with sudden hope. “You’re . . . showing me mercy? Thank you, thank you—”
“I would not exactly call it mercy,” Cedric said, his voice dripping with loathing. “There is still justice in your future, have no doubt about that.”
“Just in case you’re unclear, justice probably means dungeons,” Liv added.
Malquin turned to look at her then, his hopeful expression shifting into a sneer. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? He gestured to the blue sky. “You’ve brought magic back to this world—permanently. And now it’s your responsibility to deal with it. Are you ready to do that? On your own?”
Liv stared him down, her eyes level with his. She tried to ignore how she didn’t have an answer for his question. “Tie him up,” she said.
While Cedric and Kat guarded Malquin outside, the others had forced their way into the empty burger joint and started stuffing their faces on left-behind chips, pickles, and hamburger buns, too tired to even start thinking about their next move.
Liv looked across the room to where Shannon sat next to Merek in a booth, cleaning out his wound with wet paper towels. Rafe sat across from them, helping as well. The cut wasn’t quite as deep as it had first appeared, and Shannon said she didn’t think he’d need stitches. Then she had to explain to Rafe what stitches were, and his face turned white.
“Barbaric, isn’t it?” Merek asked, grimacing. “You do not even want to see what they do with needles here.”
Rafe adjusted in the hard plastic booth, and cleared his throat. “Cedric told me that you were injured here. It is impressive how quickly you recovered. And . . . how you fought today, that was also impressive.”
“I know,” Merek shot back. But looking at his brother, something in his face softened. “And thank you,” he added.
The boys sat in silence for a moment, until Rafe looked away, clearly uncomfortable. He bit into a potato chip and made a face. “Interesting.”
“You think that’s interesting, try one of my Cheetos,” Shannon said, pushing a crinkly orange bag across the table.
Liv smiled and turned back to Joe. “I think Merek will be okay,” she said, her voice low. She and Joe sat at a tall two-top table near the Burger Time counter, under a large wall clock shaped like a pickle with a face. Its empty, cheerful eyes looked down over the bloody, exhausted group in the room.
Joe gave a small smile.
“Are you going to be okay?” Liv asked.
Joe ran a hand through his hair, a gesture so familiar to Liv that just seeing it made her heart twist inside her chest.
“I can’t believe you’re asking me that,” Joe said. “I could have killed you, Liv. I was going to kill you.”
“That wasn’t you,” Liv said quickly.
“No, not really. But none of this would have happened if it wasn’t for me.”
Liv shot him a confused look. “Hey, that’s my line.”
Another ghost of a smile. “I remember what Malquin said, back at Paramount . . . he was right about one thing. I did abandon him. If I had just talked John out of going through the portal, or if I’d been brave enough to go after him—”
“Then you never would have been around to protect me,” Liv said. She reached out, putting her hand over where Joe’s sat on the plastic table top. “And I wouldn’t be around now to thank you for it. For watching over me, for being around when I needed you. For being like . . . family.”
Joe looked down again, but this time Liv was sure it was to hide the tears in his eyes.
“Come on, now,” Liv said lightly, fighting her own tears, “No crying in front of the pickle.” She gestured up to the wall clock, and Joe smiled. Really smiled. But it fell fast.
“Are you really going to be okay?” Liv asked. “When Malquin put that stuff in you . . .” Liv trailed off, leaving the question unsaid.
“I was in there, somewhere, the whole time. But it was like that part of me—the part that makes me me was silenced. The new part of me that believed John and everything he was saying, that wanted to gain power, to hurt, to take things—that part was so loud, and I couldn’t fight it.”
“It sounds awful,” Liv said.
Joe nodded. “But then, in an instant, that part went quiet. It was like my brain became at peace with what was happening in my body, and the real me was able to take control again.”
“Just like with the sky,” Liv said.
“That was a good trick you guys pulled,” Joe said, his brown eyes warm, but serious. “But do you have any idea what the consequences will be?”
“A simple thank-you would work fine.” Liv tore off a piece of hamburger bun and stuffed it in her mouth.
Joe rolled his eyes. “Of course I’m glad for what you did. But bringing magic back to this world forever—do you have any idea what that means? What it will do to the planet, to us?”
Liv shook her head. “No, but the sky’s blue and we don’t have a horde of monsters trying to kill us, so things are better than they were a half hour ago, right?”
Joe nodded, but his expression remained sober as he gazed out the window.
Liv bit off another chunk of her hamburger bun, pushing Joe’s concern from her mind. Right now, they were alive and whole and together. She looked up at the pickle clock, something so ordinary, so much a part of this city and this world she loved, that she almost wanted to reach up and give it a hug.
Whatever new problems they’d unleashed on the world, they could deal with tomorrow.
After five minutes of his moaning and chatter, it became clear the easiest thing to do would be to knock Malquin out. Kat took the honor, using the blunt end of her sword hilt. After tying an unconscious Malquin to the front door of the building, Cedric and Kat moved a few feet away to the shade of a nearby palm tree.
“How much longer do you think you will stay?” Kat asked. Her question sounded innocent, but they both knew how loaded it was. She kept her gaze focused carefully on the street, and not on Cedric.
He looked at her with surprise. “How do you know I am staying?”
“Because I know you, and I am not an idiot.”
Cedric smiled. “No, you are not.”
Kat sighed. “I could tell you again how ridiculous it is to stay in another world for a girl—”
“But that is not why I am staying,” Cedric said. The firmness in his voice seemed to surprise Kat, but she just narrowed her eyes at him.
“Or, not the only reason,” Cedric added. “Kat . . . why is it that I am Caelum’s king?”
Kat made a face like she couldn’t even believe Cedric would ask something so stupid. “Because . . . because you are. Your father was king—”
“And his father before him, and his father before him, yes. But why does it work like that?”
“That is the way it has always worked,” Kat said. Her tone was exasperated and a little disbelieving, as if he’d asked her why A comes before B in the alphabet.
“But why?” Cedric pressed. He gripped the end of his sword hilt, hoping the feel of it would help him keep going, help him say aloud the words he’d been wrestling with. “Our people came from this world hundreds of years ago. But look around, Kat. As this world changed, ours stayed the same. We stayed stuck in these old traditions without stopping to ask ourselves if they made sense anymore. Does it make sense that someone should be born to rule? That power and smarts would just be passed down by blood?”
He finished his words in a rush, eager to get them out, and Kat just blinked at him.
“How else would it work?” she finally said. But her tone was only half challenging—she seemed genuinely curious.
“Leadership should go to the person best suited for the job,” Cedric said. “It’s like Merek kept telling me, all those months ago when we first came to Los Angeles. The fact that I was born the son of King James does not automatically make me the best person to rule, to be in charge.”
Kat rolled her eyes. “Merek was jealous—”
“Maybe, but there was truth to his words.”
Kat shook her head. “You could be a great king, Cedric. I know it . . .”
“I could, maybe. But what if I do not want to be king? What if there was someone better for the position?”
“Who? How could we even decide such a thing?”
“The people would decide, of course,” Cedric said. “But until then, there is someone much more capable who can step into my place.”
Kat just stared at him.
“You, Kat. You should rule Caelum.”
Kat’s mouth fell open, and she took a step back. But behind her brown eyes, her brain was clearly working fast. She did not immediately refuse the proposition.
“Remember in Duoin, when we were at the inn and I was about to go after Liv—I asked you if you would give up Caelum if it meant saving me? I did not want to hear your answer then, because I knew what it was. Our homeland is the most important thing to you—more than any one person—and you are meant to be a leader in a way I never was.”
“You led us, the whole time we were here—” Kat started, weakly.
“I can lead missions, yes,” Cedric responded. “I am good at it, and that is what I enjoy. But leading an entire realm? Rebuilding Caelum, taking care of a whole population . . . Kat, you have already been ruling, the entire time since my father died. You are already queen.”
Kat was silent as the words sank in. Cedric wanted to keep talking, but he knew he couldn’t force this responsibility on her. Not the way it had been forced on him. For nearly a full minute, Kat’s face was still, her eyes raking over the ground as she considered Cedric’s words.
Then she lifted her head up, and she smiled. Cedric’s heart lifted, but the smile quickly started to drop from Kat’s face.
“And what about the other reason for you to return to Caelum?” Kat’s voice lowered, but she kept her eyes on Cedric, displaying a strength he’d always envied. “Our betrothal? Is that a tradition you want to abandon as well?”
Kat’s eyes remained fierce, but Cedric could see through them, could sense what it was costing her to ask this out loud. He was reminded of how she’d looked that day behind the pub, when he’d kissed her.
“You know I care for you, Kat, and always will, but . . . our lives could be different than we were raised to believe. They could be more.”
A look of pain flashed quickly over Kat’s face. “More?”
“I only mean . . . ,” Cedric said quickly, swallowing hard. “Do you never wish you might have more control over who you might . . . be with? To choose for yourself?”
Kat looked confused. “I do not think I have ever . . . that is, I never . . .”
“Thought about it?”
“Of course I thought about it,” Kat said, flustered. “But our future together was so sure. I never considered being with anyone else.”
“But if you could?”
Kat looked down finally, and Cedric struggled to understand what she might be thinking.
“Kat,” he continued gently. “I have never asked this before, but . . . do you really wish to marry me? Not for the benefit of Caelum, not to strengthen our kind, but to be with me. For always.”
She reached for the necklace at her throat, the one with the betrothal ring hanging from its end. The one she’d worn every day since they were children.
“Cedric, you are my closest friend. My truest friend.”
“And you are mine. But that is not exactly an answer to my question.”
Kat shook her head slightly. “If you are not my always, then who—what—is?”
“I cannot say. But while these worlds are opening up to us . . . are you not at least a little curious to find out?”
Kat paused. “I do not know. I am not so enthralled with this new world as you are. But I do know . . . I will not force you to return. I do not want to spend forever with someone who does not want to spend forever with me.”
Kat ran her fingers across the ring again before slowly and deliberately lifting the chain from her neck. She slipped it into her pocket, keeping her gaze steady on Cedric as she did so. For a moment, they stared at each other, both taking in how that one tiny gesture changed everything. Then, Kat gave a small smile.
“Does this mean I am going to have to start courting suitors?” she asked, wrinkling her nose.
Cedric laughed. “Not if you do not want to. Though I think Rafe would certainly be keen.”
Kat made a face. Then her eyes slid to the sky, as though a new thought were occurring to her. “I think maybe he . . . is not my type.” She gave a small half smile, one that felt private and that Cedric didn’t really understand.
“And what will you do here?” Kat asked, finally looking at him again. “If you are no longer king, what will you be?”
Cedric turned her question over in his mind, the same question he’d asked himself hundreds of times in the past months. He still did not know quite how to answer.
Finally, he shrugged. “I do not know. All I know is that I feel like myself here. It is difficult to explain, and even I am not entirely sure what it means yet, but I feel as though the life I should be living now is in this world. Maybe I will help these new men, with their wrath-infected blood. Or Liv says I could be a ‘stuntman,’ whatever that is. I suppose I really do not know.” He grinned.
“It feels a bit terrifying,” Kat said. “To not know exactly what the future holds.”
“Yes,” Cedric replied. “It does.”
Kat smiled, and motioned her head toward the restaurant. “Shall we, then?”
“After you, my queen.”
“Let us not get ahead of ourselves. If the people of Caelum do choose me as a leader, maybe I will go by something else.”
Cedric smiled. “After you, Something Else.”
Kat rolled her eyes. “This world is a terrible influence on you.” She put her hand through the crook of his arm and led him back to where the others sat, waiting for them to return.