Page 69 of Reign of Light
“Maybe it wasn’t simple,” I say hesitantly. “Maybe we never saw it because it wasn’t ever there before, at least not until the other night. We were too busy trying to figure out how to deal with Dane’s betrayal and with telling the Voyagers that we didn’t notice.”
“What are you thinking?”
I reach up and wrap my hands around his forearms. WhatamI thinking? Weston was right, this feels too easy. But what if it wasn’t meant to be difficult? What if it wasn’t that we didn’t notice or weren’t worthy? What if what happened just was the way it was supposed to be?
“I’m thinking that maybe…maybe we couldn’t get it, no matter how hard we looked or how much we begged the island, because the trees didn’t bloom until the dust was gone.”
He stays quiet, but I can feel him considering what I’m saying.
“Besides the Guardian abandoning the island, the only other thing that changed was that the dust is completely gone. That’s never happened before, not since you and Dane have been here, so there was no reason for the trees to bloom. That’s why no one ever saw it, and Dane didn’t know how to replenish it, because the Guardian didn’t tell him. But somehow Edmond knew. How did he know?”
“I don’t know,” he mutters, his head shaking slightly where he rests it against mine. “The good news is, we’ll finally be able to ask him.” His arms squeeze me even tighter, and he plants a firm kiss on the top of my head before his chest rumbles against my back. “Because we’re going home.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Home.
It’s not a word I associate with Blackwood. Not anymore. It belongs to Dawnlin, with these people, my new family, but more than that, it belongs to Weston. Wherever he goes is my home, and when all the rest of them spread out across the kingdoms, I will have places I can go, places I can visit and live and love when I finally get out of the confines of the castle.
I’m not ready to think about that yet. It’s what we’ve all been waiting for, but it means I won’t get to wake up and see all these people I’ve grown so used to seeing every day. Some I may never see again. I don’t know if Jorn or Sig or even Weston has thought through it yet, and I can’t blame them. We finally found what they’ve spent years searching for, and they’re reveling in the joy of it finally being over.
The life I have to return to is nothing compared to everything I’ve gained here, and while I am grateful to be given back the chance at afuture, at actual experiences, I still feel grief for everyone I am about to lose and for the freedoms that are about to be taken from me, again.
My stomach turns at the thought of how my father will react the moment I step back into those dark, cold halls. How furious will he be about my unexplained and sudden absence, or my relationship with Weston? How will I be able to live with my failure, especially in the moment we let my mother go?
If he hasn’t already done that.
Focus on this moment, right now, Lennox.
I squeeze my eyes shut, and instead revel in the brazen way Weston wraps his arms around me, in the heartwarming sound of Jorn laughing while Sig playfully scolds him and hurries him along. I soak up the warmth of the humid air on my skin, breathe in the dust’s fragrance, and try to memorize this moment, because it could be one of my last with these people.
The last time we’re all this happy. The last time we’re together.
It takes us longer than expected to clear the trees of dust. Jorn, Sig, and Weston did most of the collecting. I tried once, but it took about a minute to realize my reach would not get as far as fast as they could, and I got a warning and a stern look from down below when I tried to shimmy across one branch to reach.
Cracking and popping followed by a thud ring through the air the moment Weston’s boot lands back on the ground after harvesting from the final glowing tree. The stairs are gone, the bark returned, and you would never know that this dark grove held so much magic only moments ago. The pouch is plump and full in his hands, the golden tie straining to keep the dust contained as he ties it to his belt.
It’s almost impossible to see anything through the darkness of the forest, especially with the way the dense treetops block out any light from the moon. A torch appears a moment later, extending from the trunk of the tree Weston just stepped off, and giving off enough light that I can at least see the others.
“Back to the ship,” Weston says as he reaches out and plucks the torch from the bark. “I need to tell the crew.” He takes my hand, walking briskly toward the ship, and the excitement from moments ago disappears as if the reality of what finding the dust means is finally setting in. This life we’ve grown to love and these people we cherish will be gone in an instant.
Now that we have a choice, it is going to be hard to choose to give it all up.
No one utters a word as Weston leads us past the portal and instead winds along the pathway, across the island. Our pace isn’t slow, but it isn’t fast either, as if he’s giving us the chance to see it all one final time.
The torches on deck are bright against the darkness of the night, and it’s clear that Mara must have followed Weston’s instructions. Energy hums in the air as we traipse over the sand and toward the reef, the same way it always does when something big happens, and I know the island is watching.
Everyone waits on deck — the entire crew, all the Voyagers. My chest aches as we crest the top of the gangway and my eyes graze across them. Happiness, excitement, speculation, and anticipation. It’s written across all their faces as they wait and wonder what their captain has to tell them.
The chatter and laughter quiet the moment they see us step onto the deck, and the silence is deafening. Weston sets the torch in a holder and pulls the pouch from his belt. Sig and Jorn form a line on the other side of him, looking out over the crowd, their expressions a mixture of hope and sorrow.
Weston clears his throat, breaking the silence, and holds the pouch out in front of him.
“We found it.”
An explosion of cheers and cries erupts in the night as every single person reacts to the declaration, knowing that their fate is no longer sealed, and their life is no longer confined to this ship, to this island.Tears of joy, whoops, and laughter echo all around us, and I can’t stop the tears that prick at my eyes and the giggles that shake my shoulders as I watch them all.
After watching their hopes crushed when Weston told them the dust was almost gone, and knowing he spoke to every one of them, telling them Dane stranded us here, this reaction makes my knees weak. It all but erases the memory of the heartache and loss, because now, in this moment, we have what each one of them worked hard to find. Even when hope seemed lost, a kernel of light still lived inside each of us and kept us going. We had hoped for a happy life here, together, and now our hope of finding our lives at home has been restored.
