“This is how it has to be.”

Danny looks at him with what can only be called scientific dispassion. Like he’s waiting for the results of an experiment.

“I suppose we’ll find out,” is all he says.

Danny looks up at Eric and Colchester and Jeremy at the Serpent’s Crown. They turn away from him, like he’s not worth their time anymore. The gears and servos whirring inside RANN-D sound like laughter to Danny.

“It looks like you don’t have any friends left at all, Danny,” Sax says through the speakers. “Has everyone let you down tonight?”

Danny doesn’t reply. He feels a little ridiculous, being held like a child by the robot, but it won’t last much longer. He’s supposed to be dead soon.

Carrie looks like she’s going to retch something up and spit it at Carl.

He laughs at her.

“Working on some last-minute escape plan?” he says. “Maybe you better think twice about that.”

Carrie keeps her mouth clamped shut and glares at Carl.

“I can’t believe it,” he says. “I finally found a way to shut you up.”

Carrie stands there in the hammering rain, hands cuffed, and remains silent.

All the people from the reunion line up meekly, some parents wailing as they see their kids standing in the rain, eyes still locked on their screens. The Followers surround them, forming a loose circle with their weapons out.

Now the class is assembled in the meadow before the hill, an unwilling audience for whatever happens next. Some of them are thinking this is unfair. They got away before. They survived what was supposed to be a once-in-a-lifetime event. They were the lucky ones. They feel cheated.

Some of them think maybe they didn’t dodge those bullets after all. Maybe they were always supposed to die; they only managed to delay it for twenty years.

Others are only thinking of their children, standing in the rain with their blank, empty eyes, not moving no matter how many times their names are called.

But they all know one thing: there is no one left to save them now.

29

How Magic Works

Standing at the altar, Alana’s sword in hand, Eric takes a moment to look out on the assembled crowd. Grace looks up at him, trying not to cry, trying to be brave now.

He can’t meet her eyes. So he looks out at the people below. They are so much like an audience that he has to stop for a moment.

“Let’s get on with it, son,” Colchester says. “That altar’s going to be a busy place.”

Eric holds the sword up. And pauses.

“This looks bad, doesn’t it?” Eric asks. “Yeah. This looks bad.”

Eric knows he’s being theatrical. So what? He’s a showman. Watch him pull a rabbit out of his hat.

Colchester turns and scowls. Jeremy swivels with him, eyes blank.