Four days later, Maggie was walking up to Hilltop Haven with Aimee. Aimee and her mom had been staying at Maggie’s house, and it was such a beautiful day, they’d decided to walk home from Emory’s funeral instead of catching a ride with the guys in the Beetmobile. The Flatliners and their families had all attended and even the Toppers were there to honor his memory. Myka and Raphael had given the eulogy, and Dalton had sung “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot” as a special tribute.
“Hey, Aimes, you want to hang out?” Maggie asked. “You can come with me to Bran’s if you like. I want to see how he’s doing, and he wanted to hear about the funeral.”
“Can’t,” Aimee answered. “Family meeting. My mom’s had the divorce papers drawn up. I don’t want to miss that.”
They both laughed, and when Maggie turned up the walkway that led to Bran’s door, they parted ways. Maggie’s old crew had just come out of Bran’s house, and they were chattering about how cute he was when they caught sight of her. They all averted their eyes, and Lisa Marie bumped Maggie with her shoulder as she walked by. As they passed, Maggie could hear them mocking her.
“Nice black eye.”
“I know, right? Ugly much?”
“And now she’s hanging out with Aimee?”
“Freaks. They’re two peas in the same loser pod.”
Maggie watched them walk away, feeling a kaleidoscope of emotions exploding through her like starbursts, from hurt, to outrage, to sadness—since she knew that only a few months ago, she had put Aimee through the same torture. But to her surprise, those feelings evaporated and she giggled, then chuckled—and then laughed out loud. Because she now understood: some day, all those girls would be outcasts, and someone else would make them feel like crap. The Wheel of Karma, she thought. And it would serve them right. Maybe it was the only way they could learn.
Bran’s mother greeted Maggie at the door with a smile and directed her up the stairs to Bran’s room. He was lying in bed watching ESPN, tossing a football up in the air and catching it, clearly restless in his current, injured state. The room was filled with a half dozen Mylar balloons with messages like hang in there and get well soon written on them in bright, shiny letters.
“Hey,” Maggie said awkwardly, and she realized suddenly that she’d never had a one-on-one conversation with Bran. To her, he’d always been nothing but Rick’s best friend, and he was her friend only by extension. Most of the time, they’d barely looked at one another. But they looked at each other now, as Bran pointed to a chair near the bed, gesturing for her to sit. They really looked.
“How’d it go?” he asked.
“Sad,” she said. “You know. But everyone was there and Dalton sang. It was nice. Emory would have liked it.”
“Yeah.”
As Maggie sat down, she took a big Toblerone chocolate bar out of her purse. “Here,” she said. “I didn’t know what to get someone who’s been . . . you know . . .”
“Shot in a gang fight?” Bran finished in his charming Southern drawl. “I believe a do-rag and a bullet-proof vest are the traditional gifts, but chocolate always works for me. Wanna split it?”
She nodded. Bran unwrapped the bar and held one end of it out to her. Their hands touched briefly as they broke it apart. As they each took a bite, his eyes caught hers. She was amazed at how blue they were, and when she looked into them, she was convinced that Bran was exactly what he seemed to be: a kind, good, caring, honest, funny guy. His aura was blue, too—a rich, unwavering cobalt that was as constant and lovely as a clear summer sky. She realized he was staring as much as she was, and self-consciously she touched her swollen eye.
“Sorry,” she said. “I look like a monster right now.”
“No, you don’t,” he told her, shaking his head. “You look amazing.”
His words were so rich with meaning, and the connection between them was sudden and so deep that for an instant, Maggie felt breathless.
“Oh, I’m so sure,” she said, and the tension that mounted within her became a quivering in her chest, and the quivering became laugher. Soon, Maggie and Bran were cracking up together, like a couple of best friends.
* * *
Aimee walked into her father’s study with her mom, who was dressed in a lovely beige suit, her hair beautifully coiffed and her nails freshly manicured. Unlike Emily Banfield, who seemed perfectly calm, Aimee felt tension building within her. Her father was always like a volcano on the verge of erupting, and since Rick had been arrested, it was worse. The scandal of Jack’s bigamy had spread all over town, and it was tainting his so-called clout. Savana Kain had filed papers to have their marriage annulled on the same day that Aimee’s mom had filed for divorce. Emily had hired the best attorney in the state, and Aimee had overheard her telling Violet Anderson that she wasn’t going to settle for less than half of everything Jack had.
“And believe me,” she’d confided to Maggie’s mom. “I have my own ideas about what to do with his property and companies, once I’ve taken over my half of them—especially when it comes to the Flats. He won’t be bulldozing people’s homes on my watch.”
Things weren’t going any better for Jack in his bid to win custody of Raphael’s little brother. Savana was now denying that he was the father, and despite his repeated requests, she refused to submit to a paternity test.
But even in the midst of this major life implosion, the thing that seemed to gall Jack Banfield the most was that Aimee and Raphael were seeing each other again, and no matter what he said or how he threatened her, she refused to stop.
“Thanks for coming,” he said to Emily when he opened the door. “I know that if we both behave like civilized people we can work all this out.” His voice was sickly sweet, even smarmy, and Aimee hoped her mother knew better than to trust him.
“There’s nothing to work out, Jack—except the divorce settlement,” Emily told him as she handed him the papers. “I know you’ve already been served by a disinterested party, but I couldn’t deny myself the pleasure of giving the papers to you myself. My attorney says it’ll go better for everyone if we can come to some kind of agreement before we go to court.”
His attitude changed. “Yeah, well—we’ll see about that. There’s nothing I can do for Rick, it seems, but I want my daughter to come back home.”
“That’s not happening,” said Aimee.
“No way,” said Emily.
He ignored his wife and turned to Aimee. “Come on, sweetheart. Don’t you miss your room? I’ll double your allowance and we’ll start shopping for a car for you—”
“No, thanks,” she said.
So he got tough with her. “Look—you either come back home right now, or I will personally take you back to Mountain High Academy and instruct them to lock you in and throw away the key.”
Aimee shook her head sadly. “What is your problem, Dad? Why do you think you have to control everything?”
“You are my daughter, Aimee—and you will not throw your life away by spending it with losers,” he told her. “You will live up to your potential, and you will appreciate the sacrifices I’ve made for you and for this family.”
“What family?” Aimee said calmly. “Your family is gone—because of you.”
Her father leaned close to her, his face white with anger. “You be very careful, young lady.”
“Sorry, Dad,” she said gently. “That just doesn’t work anymore.”
Jack snorted. “Well, we’ll see about that,” he scoffed.
“That’s enough, Jack,” Emily said. “Aimee will continue to stay with me at Violet’s until our apartment is ready. She isn’t going to stay with you, and if she doesn’t want to see you, you won’t even have visitation.”
“You shut your mouth—you’re done here,” he said and was as stunned as Aimee when Emily laughed at him.
“You’re right about that,” she agreed. “And when I get through with you, you’ll be done in Middleburg. Now that Orias has signed over his shares of your business ventures together over to me—plus what I’ll get in the divorce—I will wipe you out and take great pleasure in doing it. Come on, Aimee. Let’s go home.”
* * *
Jack followed Emily and his daughter to the door when they left and slammed it behind them, letting out a string of the vilest profanity he could come up with. After that, he went into a rage that destroyed his living room, breaking into bits the lamps and bric-a-brac that Lily Rose carefully dusted every other day.
He smashed the coffee table into kindling, kicking it and banging it violently into the wall, and he used one of its splintered legs to slash a painting—an expensive Thomas Kincaid—like he wanted to slash Orias’s face.
How could that pompous, self-important son of a bitch just give his shares of Jack’s businesses to Emily like they were bubble-gum trading cards? How could his once mousy, mealy-mouth about-to-be ex-wife think she would get away with taking what he’d worked for years to accumulate? How could his ungrateful wretch of a daughter treat him so disrespectfully? Rick was the only one who’d shown any promise, and he’d been stupid enough to get himself arrested for giving some Flats rat a beating that he surely deserved.
Well, Jack thought, damn them all to hell. He didn’t need any of them, and they wouldn’t take him down. He’d build his holdings up again, bigger and better than ever. He’d show them all—but first, he needed a drink. In fact, he needed to go to the nearest bar and get rip-roaring drunk like he hadn’t been in years.
He felt in his jacket pocket for his car keys and came up with a small vial—the vial Orias had given him, filled with some kind of herbal remedy he’d said was good for Aimee’s nerves. And if there was anything Jack needed at that moment, it was something to steady his nerves.
He screwed the little silver top off the tiny bottle and slugged back the contents, which actually tasted delicious. As soon as he swallowed, he felt an infinite calm stealing over him, and then he felt nothing. Nothing at all. Every care he’d ever had drifted away . . . never to be remembered again.
* * *
When Maggie got home, after she had spent a pleasant afternoon with Bran, she found a strange car in the driveway. She entered the house calling her mother’s name and went directly to the hallway to find her with Vivian Gonzalez, Middleburg’s only art framer and a part-time travel agent. The two stood together gazing up at Violet Anderson’s completed final tapestry.
There it was, the battle of Middleburg, framed and laid out in exquisite detail, everything from the government choppers to the Obie daggers, from Orias’s resurrection to the Staircase of Light. And in the center of it, resplendent in white, stood the angel Halaliel, holding up the glowing Shen Ring, surrounded by the Army of Light.
“It’s stunning, Mom. A masterpiece,” Maggie said, shaking her head in awe.
“Yes,” her mother said wearily. “I don’t think I’ll ever do another. After everything that’s happened, I’m quite ready for a break.”
“And you’ve earned it,” Ms. Gonzalez said, handing Violet an envelope. “Bye, ladies,” she said and headed out the door.
“What’s that?” Maggie asked, gesturing to the envelope. Violet smiled.
“It’s for you. For us. Open it,” she said, and Maggie took the envelope and ripped it open. Inside, she found a set of three tickets with the words CARNIVAL CRUISE LINES on them.
“I’ve always wanted to go on cruise,” Violet said wistfully. “Now I will. We will. As soon as school’s out for the summer.”
“There are three tickets,” Maggie pointed out.
“I thought you might want to bring someone,” Violet said.
Maggie blushed as she thought of Bran and wondered if he’d accept her invitation to go on a cruise. Just asking him would be a major step, and they weren’t even officially together yet. But it sounded divine—Bran with her onboard a ship in the middle of a sparkling aquamarine sea. But it didn’t matter. They couldn’t go anyway.
“What about the doorway?” she reminded her mother. “We have to guard it.”
Violet smiled. “Not anymore,” she said. “Take a look.”
Maggie gave her a quizzical glance and brushed past her, unbolting and opening the basement door. She braced herself to see a tunnel of endlessly descending blackness, maybe even a monster or two waiting there to ambush her, but instead she found something much more surprising: nothing.
It was just a normal basement staircase.
She could see beige tiles covering the floor below, and she looked at her mom, confused.
“Now that the Wheel of Illusion has been restored, this back door to hell is closed,” Violet explained. “We don’t have to worry anymore about residents of the Dark Territory using it to make their way to earth. An angel—a very tall angel—came and sealed it up.”
Maggie was speechless.
“Go and check it out,” Violet urged, and Maggie raced down the steps. The basement was gloriously normal, filled with a Ping-Pong table, a pool table, a wet bar with a mini-fridge, a couch, and a big-screen TV.
She walked through it, taking it all in, and then she flopped down on the couch and sobbed, great tears of joy and relief pouring down her cheeks and onto the new leather sofa. She had expected to spend her life as her mother had spent hers, locked up in this house and guarding the basement door until she slowly lost her mind with loneliness. Now, she was free.
“You like it?” her mother shouted from above.
“I love it!” Maggie shouted back, her voice choked with emotion. “And we’re totally going on that cruise this summer!” she said, and the invisible ghost crown on her brow throbbed in time with the beating of her happy heart.
* * *
Zhai and Kate embraced in her little train-car home for what he feared would be the last time. She’d told him again that she had to get back to her real home, in her own time, and he couldn’t bear to think of what his life would be like without her.
The last few days had been a whirlwind of activity as he made arrangements for his parents’ funeral, found a temporary place to live, and met with his family’s lawyers to check on his father’s will. What Li had told him was true. Somehow, Lotus had either convinced Cheung Shao to leave Zhai with nothing, or she’d forged his signature on a new will. He’d insisted that Nass and his folks keep the guesthouse until they found something else, or until Li’s guardian, who Zhai knew had to be the new leader of the Black Snakes, evicted them.
To his surprise, Raphael and Savana had insisted he bunk with them for a while, until things got sorted out. He’d also had to find a job, which hadn’t been as difficult as he’d expected. When Orias had returned from Dark Territory, he’d started his restitution thing right away. The first thing he’d done was sign all his interests in Jack Banfield’s enterprises over to Aimee’s mom, and then he gave his coffee shop, Elixir, to Savana so she and Raph would have a steady source of income. Savana had happily hired Zhai to work there, too.
Zhai also had to keep up with his schoolwork and, at Kate’s insistence, he’d also made time to grieve for his dad and play his violin. Today, she had asked him to meet her in the train car for a special talk. He’d shown up with flowers and as usual, she scolded him for spoiling her and then led him inside. They sipped tea, kissed, and gazed into each other’s eyes before she grew serious and got down to business. She took out a book—A Local History of Central Ireland—and opened it.
“I borrowed this from Miss Pembrook,” she said as she placed it before Zhai and pointed to a picture.
“That’s me,” she said faintly, then sat back, waiting for Zhai’s response.
The picture was labeled St. John’s School for Girls, August 1915.
Zhai looked from the picture to Kate. “You were adorable even back then,” he said and kissed her freckled nose.
She smiled sweetly at him. “Well, you know I’m a time traveler, but I haven’t told you how it happened. I was out digging potatoes from our garden one day when my mother called me in, crying hysterically, saying my brother was on his way to Dublin to enlist in the army so he could go and fight the Germans. She shook our last bit of money out of the can where we kept it and told me I had to go and find him and talk him out of it. He was too young to sign up, but she knew that once the soldiers had him they wouldn’t let him go.”
“And you took the train?” Zhai guessed.
“Aye,” she said. “But I was soon to learn it was no ordinary train. I was the only one on the car I boarded, but for our small village I didn’t think that was anything unusual. I figured more people would be getting on soon. But we left the station and somewhere along the way, the train started glowing and picking up speed, going faster and faster until I got so dizzy I must have fainted. When I came to, it had stopped. You can imagine my surprise when I found out I was no longer in Ireland, and it was no longer 1915.”
“I can’t imagine how hard that must have been for you—never to have seen all the modern technology we have—TVs, cell phones, airplanes. And no money to live on. I think you’re a genius—I don’t know anyone who could have made a home here in the locomotive graveyard and survive on fish and berries, with no electricity and no running water.”
“And don’t forget—I’d found a couple of gold coins around these old wrecked trains. That helped a lot.” She frowned. “But I have to go back, Zhai, if there’s a way. I’ve got to complete the task my mother sent me on. If I don’t, my brother could die in the war. I’ve got to try and get back there.” She had tears in her eyes.
“I know,” he said. “And I’ve been thinking . . . maybe I’ll go with you, if that’s okay.”
“But what if something happens, and you aren’t able to get back here? Are you absolutely certain that’s what you want?”
Zhai nodded. “I’m sure. I’m hoping that with Aimee and the Wheel, we’ll be able to come back once in a while—but even if we can’t, I don’t want to lose you.”
She kissed him, then, in a way she’d never kissed him before, and the kiss told him all he needed to know. “I don’t want to lose you, either,” she said when she finally pulled away. “The only thing I can’t figure out is why the train—or Halaliel, or the All—brought me here in the first place. I mean, sure I was a grenadier in the Army of Light, but you certainly could have won without me. . . .”
Zhai shook his head. “I couldn’t have won without you. I couldn’t even live without you. Kate, you taught me to feel, to need something, to open myself up to other people,” he said vehemently. “I never could have gotten through any of this without you. You taught me to love.” He reached into his pocket and took out the lock of hair she’d given him so many months ago. It felt like a lifetime.
“I’ve kept it with me ever since,” he said softly. “And I’ll always keep it with me.”
Her smile was radiant as she went into his arms again. Not long after, they got together with Aimee, Maggie, and the Flatliners at Lily Rose’s house for a special victory dinner. Even Orias was included in the celebration.
When they told everyone that Kate was going home and that Zhai was going with her, Lily Rose gave her a copy of The Good Book.
“This will help you both in your spiritual journey,” she told them. “But it’ll do more than that. We want you to keep in touch, to let us know how things work out for you. ”
Kate looked at the book in awe. “How does it do that?” she asked.
“Just write me a letter and tuck it inside the book,” said Lily Rose. “And let your heart fill with love when you think of us. The book will do the rest.”
“Zhai,” Raphael said. “It’s a major decision, man. You sure you want to do this?”
“I’m sure,” Zhai said. “You know I’ve always felt a little out of step with these times—and all the plans my dad had made for me to take over his business. I’ve always felt a little like I didn’t belong here. There’s nothing left for me here—and I can’t live without Kate.”
Orias cleared his throat. “I’d like to go, too,” he said. Everyone looked at him, surprised. “I have a lot to make up for,” he continued. “It wouldn’t hurt to go back about a hundred years and get a head start.”
* * *
It was the earliest and most resplendent spring anyone in Middleburg could remember. As the days passed, neither the Flatliners nor the Toppers spoke of that terrible day filled with fighting and destruction. Most Middleburg residents, once they woke up from Dalton’s song-induced sleep at Middleburg United, seemed not to remember the events at all. After the battle, they’d simply walked, squinting, into the unusually bright afternoon sunshine, heading back to their homes after what they’d thought had been a tornado warning. They hadn’t even seemed to notice when Agent Hackett and his men climbed into their helicopters and Humvees and rolled out of Middleburg. The Obies who’d survived the fight had quietly left town. In place of the destruction that now seemed like an odd half-remembered dream, the ruined houses and buildings were now miraculously intact—except the one that had belonged to Oberon and Orias. The lot it had stood on—the whole town, in fact—was overrun with so many varieties of beautiful wildflowers that it looked like Lily Rose’s garden had exploded. Orias had donated the property to Middleburg, along with some money, with the understanding that a park and teen community center be built there.
Nass had made good use of the early bloom. Every day after school, he’d spent hours gathering flowers, making them into bouquets and surprising Dalton with them at every possible occasion. Soon, she’d said she’d date him, run away with him, marry him—anything to get him to stop giving her the darned flowers. Her house was full of them, and she was getting tired of vacuuming up the petals. He said he’d be content if she would just forgive him—and she did. Nass and Dalton were officially Middleburg’s most entertaining couple once more.
Raphael had enjoyed the beauty of the early spring only in passing; he’d been busy with school and rebooting his relationship with Aimee. He also had to help his mom run Elixir, and he’d managed to find housing for Emory’s family. The rest of the Flats families had gotten a reprieve from eviction, since Jack Banfield had been found wandering around on Golden Avenue with no idea who he was. Aimee’s mom had committed him to the state asylum, and she took over running his companies—after she and Aimee moved back into the Banfield mansion. Every Sunday Emily faithfully went to the county jail, where Rick was being held until his trial, but he continued to refuse to see her or respond to her letters.
Raphael tried to get to know his new baby brother, who his mom had named Gabriel, but Lily Rose was helping take care of him and she would let Raphael hold him for no more than a minute or two before she spirited him away to rest. Raphael wasn’t worried about it, though. He’d have the rest of his life to get to know the little guy, and he trusted Lily Rose’s judgment in all things, especially when it came to babies.
There hadn’t been time, after what he’d come to think of as the Great War, to have a big celebration, and the Flatliners and the Toppers had mutually agreed to put it off until spring break. They had learned to peacefully coexist and there were no more gang fights and hardly ever any disagreements. They were all getting along so well that the Cunningham brothers joked about combining them into one group and renaming it the Flat-Toppers, and Nass had quipped that nobody’d better expect him to get some kind of loser retro haircut to go along with it.
The economic situation was improving, too. Agent Hackett had made good on Halaliel’s suggestion about developing wind and solar power in Middleburg and not long after that, when Beet, Benji, and Josh were poking around in the old train graveyard they found an old safe that was full of gold coins. The best they could figure, it had been exposed when all the explosions shifted some of the old boxcars around. Letters in the safe dated it back to 1877, and laughing as if it was the biggest joke in the world, Aimee and Maggie had explained to them that it was the lost payroll the outlaws had been after when they’d gone back in time. It was Benji’s idea to turn the locomotive graveyard into a train museum and charge admission. Every chance they got, they worked on cleaning up the place, and Josh built a website to promote it. Already, it promised to become some kind of cool tourist attraction. There was a lot to celebrate.
The party was going to be at Master Chin’s farm and everyone in town was invited. The flyers Raph and his friends had posted downtown had billed it as a spring festival, but those who were in the know understood that it was a celebration of the Army of Light’s victory over the Dark Territory hordes, and the restoration of the celestial staircase. Already the creepy feeling that had permeated Middleburg for so long seemed to be dissipating. Raphael wasn’t sure why, but he guessed that maybe a backlog of ghosts and darker entities that had been loitering there were now moving on to a better place.
On the night of the party, Raph and his friends crammed into the Beetmobile and rolled up to Master Chin’s farm. They found it transformed into a carnival, complete with rides, a live band, and dozens of food vendors.
Beet, Benji, and Josh insisted on using part of the money from the safe to pay for the party.
“It’s like Disney World, right?” Benji asked.
“Like you’ve ever been to Disney World,” Beet scoffed.
D’von Cunningham was riding shotgun next to Beet. Ever since Beet found out D’von was into cars, they had been hanging out quite a bit. He glanced back now. “You’ve never been to Disney World?” he asked Benji in amazement.
“Of course not. You have any idea how much it costs?” Benji said.
D’von shook his head sadly. “I’m taking you there some time,” he said decisively. “Y’all are deprived.”
“Not as deprived as you losers,” Benji joked. “Our train museum is going to make a load of money. How about I take you?” And everyone laughed.
As soon as the car stopped, Raphael was out, and he and Aimee hurried, hand in hand, through the labyrinth of smiling faces and twinkling lights.
Master Chin’s barn/kung fu school was at the center of the festivities. Its doors were shut, Raphael knew, because this was the V.I.P. area, the party within the party—the area reserved for members of the Army of Light and their families. Inside, Master Chin’s kwoon was decked out, its rafters festooned with glowing paper lanterns and filled with potted flowering plants. Against one wall, there was a table full of all kinds of fancy gourmet food catered by Spinnacle, with servants in white linen uniforms dishing out delicious-looking portions of steak, au gratin potatoes, grilled salmon, salads, rolls, desserts—the works. Against another wall, there were burgers, barbecued ribs, hot dogs, and French fries supplied by Rack ’Em and served buffet style.
Master Chin stood amid a knot of partygoers, relating a story that had happened long before any of them were ever born, when he’d had a run-in with Oberon and had taken out one of his eyes using snake-style kung fu. When Raphael and Aimee approached, however, he ceased his tale and embraced them both.
“Ah, so lovely to see you two!” he exclaimed. “Now everyone is here!”
“Sorry we’re late. Someone takes forever to get ready,” Raphael said, elbowing Aimee playfully. She stuck her tongue out at him.
“Tell me about it,” exclaimed Nass, looking at Dalton who gave him a playful shove.
Everyone was there: the Cunninghams, Dax, Michael, Beet, Benji, Josh, Myka, and Bran Goheen. Bran was quite a bit more subdued than when he’d been hanging out with Rick Banfield, but he looked happy. He and Maggie Anderson were holding hands. Everyone was surprised when they started going together, but they seemed perfect for each other.
“I wish Zhai and Kate were here to see all this,” said Maggie, taking in the room. She looked at Lily Rose. “Have you had any word from them?”
“As a matter of fact, I have,” said Lily Rose, her eyes twinkling as she took The Good Book out of her oversized purse. “I looked this morning and found something waiting for me. It’s a letter from Kate.”
She opened The Good Book and read it to them.
“Dear lovely friends,” Kate had written. “We got back safely. Aimee was able to teleport us right to the enlistment office in Dublin—but it was too late for me to get my brother out of the army. Have no worry—he survived the war, and I’ll explain how in a minute. To our surprise when we materialized on the other side, Orias was wearing a priest’s collar, of all things. He laughed and said he thought that was fitting. He was willing to live a life of service to others and thought maybe there was some good he could do. He enlisted in the army as a chaplain and went off to minister to the soldiers.
“Not long after we returned to my little village, Zhai and I were married. None of my neighbors had ever seen an Asian gentleman before and for a while they were sure I’d brought back some kind of exotic leprechaun (ha ha), but they soon got used to him and realized they weren’t going to find a pot of gold by following him around. We haven’t found one either, although Zhai has made a good living as a music teacher and he never lacks for students.
“Now about my little brother. He came home from the war unscathed, thanks to Orias. He wasn’t even wounded, for Orias jumped in front of the bullet that was meant for him. I’m sorry to inform you that Orias didn’t make it. But, according to my brother, his last words were, ‘I can see the light. I can see it! I’m going home now . . .’ and he died with a smile on his face.
“We miss you all terribly and hope to see you again someday soon. Meanwhile, we are happy in our little country cottage and will soon add to our family with our first child. I hope it will be the first of many.
With all our love, Kate and Zhai.”
Everyone was silent for a moment when Lily Rose closed the book. Raphael looked at Aimee, concerned, and when she gazed into his eyes hers were misted with tears.
“It’s okay,” she said. “He’s okay, now. He did it. He made his restitution.”
“Yep,” said Lily Rose. “I knew that boy had it in him. Orias found his road to glory.”
Above them, from one of the barn’s rafters, hung a flag that Violet Anderson had made for the Army of Light. Against a white background, it featured a spiral staircase rising from a ring stitched in blue. At the corners of the flag were the four items the Magician had sent Raphael and Zhai to find in their first quest: a pocket watch, a wedding ring, a rosary, and a lock of hair.
“Cool flag,” Raphael said, gazing up at it. It reminded him of a conversation he’d had with Zhai before he and Kate left.
“The one thing I’m still trying to figure out is that first quest, where the Magician had us get those items,” Zhai had said. “And then we had to get the key. I mean, I understand the key—you couldn’t have rescued Aimee without unlocking the Wheel of Illusion—but the rest of the stuff?”
Raphael had nodded and replied, “I thought about that a lot on my train ride through the Dark Territory borderlands. I think each item had a lesson; the Magician is called the Dark Teacher, after all. I know for me, the pocket watch symbolizes time.” He’d tried to channel the Magician’s creepy voice, which had made Zhai laugh. “Time is an illusion,” Raph had said. “And we can travel through it. But it’s also precious and limited. Like my time with my dad. And I think Mrs. Anderson’s wedding ring symbolizes commitment,” he said, thinking of Aimee. “Plus, I never would have become friends with Maggie if I hadn’t gone to find it.”
Zhai had considered Raphael’s words carefully, and then he’d said, “After our quest, Lily Rose told me to heal Li with faith. That could be the rosary. . . .”
“And what about the lock of Kate’s hair?”
At that Zhai had grinned. “That’s easy,” he’d said. “It’s love.”
When they’d told Chin what they thought, he’d nodded proudly. “Time, commitment, faith, and love,” he’d said. “All necessary ingredients to becoming a Soldier of Light.”
“Yeah, well he sure didn’t teach us the easy way,” Raphael had said.
Chin clapped him on the shoulder. “He never does,” he’d said.
Remembering his conversation with Zhai made Raphael miss his old friend, but he knew that somehow, somewhere, he would see him again.
Aimee’s voice brought Raphael back to the present. She was addressing Master Chin. “I never got a chance to thank you for those telepathic kung fu lessons you gave me while you were in your coma,” she said. “I’ll always be grateful. They saved my life more than once.”
“Of course,” Chin smiled. “You were an excellent student.”
“You know . . . if you’d ever let me take lessons sometime when we’re both awake, that would be amazing,” she suggested.
Chin eyed her playfully. “Do you remember what I said when you asked the first time?” he asked, and then he reached into a cabinet and took out a thick wooden board.
“You said when I could break that board you’d train me.”
“Right,” Chin said. “You think you can do it?”
He held up the board and braced himself, ready for Aimee to strike it as she had the first time she tried. The rest of the Army of Light surrounded her, watching eagerly.
Aimee looked at the board for a minute, crestfallen, and then shook her head. “I can’t do it,” she said. “It’s too thick. There’s no way.”
Chin laughed and set down the board. “Then I’ll train you,” he said.
Aimee’s face lit up. “What? Really?”
“I cannot train someone unless they understand their own limitations. Now you understand yours,” he explained.
Aimee smiled and gave her new kung fu master a bow.
“And I have a surprise for you, Sifu,” Raphael said, and everyone gave him their attention. “I’ve finally figured out the Strike of the Immortals.”
Aimee looked at Raphael, confused, and he explained. “The most advanced technique in all of kung fu, the move that can never be defeated, that can’t be taught, only figured out.”
Chin nodded. “Very well,” he said, gesturing toward his Mook Jong, the kung fu wooden dummy that stood in the corner. “Show me.”
Raphael nodded. With everyone watching, he walked over to the Mook Jong, but instead of attacking it he just stood there.
“Go ahead! You can do it!” Josh said.
But Raphael simply looked at the dummy for a moment longer before turning back to Chin.
“Do it, Raph!” Nass said eagerly, but Raphael only smiled.
“He did do it,” Chin said, beaming with pride.
They all looked confused.
“Come on,” said Beet. “Show us the move.”
“That’s it,” Raphael explained. “That’s what the move is—nothing.”
“The Strike of the Immortals is the strike not thrown,” Chin said softly, his eyes a little misty. And then he grinned. “It is peace. And nothing—nothing—can defeat it.” He gave Raphael a tearful embrace. “You’re a master now,” he whispered. A moment later he pulled away, wiping tears of joy from his eyes. “And now, we dance!” he said exuberantly, taking a remote control from his pocket and aiming it at the impressive sound system he’d set up on one side of the barn.
“Just a second,” Raphael said. He had spied his mom at the far end of the room, holding his little brother. “Hey, Mom,” he said, meeting her in the middle of the barn.
“Hey, kiddo,” she said, bobbing the baby up and down in her arms. “You want to hold your little bro?”
Gingerly, Raphael took the baby from his mother. “Hey, Gabe,” he said. He was getting more and more comfortable holding him. “What’s up, little guy?”
Maggie, Aimee, and Dalton gathered around, oohing and cooing at the adorable child.
“I’ve got to ask,” said Dalton. “How did you decide what to call him? Is Gabriel an old family name or something?”
Savana smiled. “It was an easy choice. Raphael is named after an angel. I thought it would be appropriate for this one, too. My two angel boys.”
“Mom—come on,” said Raphael. “Stop before you embarrass me.”
Savana laughed, and Gabriel squirmed in Raph’s arms. He looked up at his big brother and a huge smile spread across his tiny face. Suddenly, a halo of golden light surrounded his perfect little head, causing everyone watching to gasp. Then, the baby was glowing all over, bright and beautiful, just like he’d glowed in the womb. Everyone stared at him in stunned silence.
Chin approached, glanced at the baby, then at Raphael and he clapped Raph on the back. “Well, it looks like the new generation of warriors for the Army of Light is already among us,” he said pleasantly. His smile was infectious, and soon the others were smiling and laughing, too, even Raphael.
“He’s going to be great—especially with a big brother like you,” Aimee said, kissing Raphael on the cheek.
“So . . . can we dance already?” Chin asked with boyish impatience, and they all laughed.
“Yeah!” Aimee and Maggie said at once.
“All right, Sifu,” Raphael said. “Let’s dance.”
The End