Page 107 of Light

Gone.

Completely.

“Oh, my God.” I can’t avoid the repetition, though this time it’s twice as thick with my bewilderment. “Then wh-wh-what…or h-h-how…”

“Mama! Hey, Mama!”

I wheel around, frantic about locating my son now. I don’t expect to find Lux in the same place, but I do. There he is, riding my fine but weary husband like a champion buckaroo. I clamp a hand over my mouth for a second, barely muffling my overwhelmed sob. Can it really be true? Are we truly on the brink of ending this wild ride, once and for all?

“Yes, my incredible light?” I’m finally able to answer him.

“Holy shit, Mama!” Lux points excitedly at the portal. The strange opening that leads…nowhere. Even Faline has caught on to the anomaly and scrambles backward from the opening through which she was eager to leap before. “You see, Mama?” he yells. “You see the magic door? The door that sissies and I made?”

The sissies.

Oh, God.

Mis and Ira!

“Emma!” Reece snaps together the same connection at exactly the same time. While he roars it, I’m already maximizing the moment. In one lunge forward, I whisk the twins away from the woman’s distracted grip. In one sweep back, I funnel every ounce of my attention down my free arm and across the patch of terrace we’ve just crossed. I almost close my eyes, not able to fathom what will happen if my powers—pushed to perform at speeds and across spaces to which they’ve never been challenged—let me down.

“Mama!” The exclamation comes from one of the twins this time. Swaying as if I’ve just given three quarts of blood, I don’t have the capacity to determine which one. All I know is that hearing her refer to me by that name, and with such joy, feels like my butt’s just landed on a cloud in heaven instead of a cement sidewalk. “Mama, look at the magic of you now!”

Slowly, I peel open my gaze.

And look out over what appears to be the four-story drop into the bottom of the Music Center’s parking garage.

A whoosh of breath escapes from me.

Holy crap. I did it. I made a huge chunk of the terrace disappear.

An illusion that, thank God, Faline believed enough to jump back from.

Stumbling, fumbling, and toppling.

Until losing her balance altogether.

And then falling sideways—into the big scoop of noiseless, odorless, bottomless black air.

Before I even know if she screamed on the way in, Reece shouts, “Now, kids! All together! Now!”

And before I can blink again, the huge circle—and its new occupant—have vanished.

Gone.

Completely gone.

Vaguely, I’m aware of Mis’s and Ira’s ecstatic leaps. I’m not as able to hold back my stunned oof as they come back down, piling over my chest until I’m the bottom layer of a Richards girls pile-up.

And this time, I can truly mean the expression.

The Richards girls.

Can I actually hope to mean it? For real this time?

Still flat on my back, with dust blowing up the chiffon layers of my skirt, I roll my head to the right when a distinctive chuckle rumbles the air there. Sure enough, the stunning sight of my husband fills my sights. Reece, having flipped onto his back and then slithered over, takes my shaking fingers inside his own. I squeeze back with as much strength as I can, which isn’t much. I’ve had my powers “cranked to eleven” for close to an hour and a half with no breaks or rest stops. It’s been the longest and most intense test of my strength. I desperately hope I passed, but a lot of me is too tired to care.

There are more important things for my concern right now. And my gratitude.