“Berron!” I stared in shock. Hallucination or not, hope surged like a pot boiling over. “Wake up!” I found a coffee bean underfoot and crushed it. “Wake up and smell the coffee!”
The Berron hallucination rolled over.
“Berron! You stupid idiot!” I kicked the tree for good measure. “Wake. Up! Iloveyou, dammit!”
A gold explosion blinded me. I fell, landing heavily on my ass with a root in the wrong place. I still had the leash and Jester was barking madly. I blinked against what had become the sun—and not the winter sun, mind you, cold and white, but a blazing spring sun out to settle scores with the snow.
And when it faded, the Prince’s Tree shone with new leaves, andhestood before me.
Smiling. Pointy-eared. Kind of full of himself.And still with the West Side Sandwiches hat on his head.
My mouth fell open. “Where’d you get that?” I said.
“A little birdie gave it to me.”
Jester was on two legs jumping up and down like a little man as he tried to get to Berron. I made it easy by stumbling forward, never mind the roots, and hurling myself into Berron’s arms.
Jester jumped and snorfed and pawed at the two of us as we held each other.
“I thought you were gone,” I said, breathing the scent of his shoulder.
“I thought I was too,” he said.
I grabbed him by the hat brim and gave him a little shake. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again.”
“Why? Will you break up with me?”
“Who said I was dating you?”
He arched an eyebrow.
“All right, fine,” I said. “If you have to put a label on it.”
He laughed, removed the hat, and swooped in for what would have been very embarrassing kisses down the side of my neck. But since only the dog was watching, they were actually pretty nice. “I love you, too,” he said, when he had made it all the way to my collarbone.
“Mm,” I said, struck slightly dumb by shock, magic, and more feelings than I had bargained for. “Are we making out now?”
“Yes,” he said, straightening up and booping my nose with one long, elegant finger. “So. Where to first? Coney Island? Brooklyn?”
My mind whirled. The whole world, wide open.
Freedom—at last—for all of us.
“It’s going to take a little planning,” I said, “but we’re going on a field trip.”
21
Thedayhadarrived,and I stood in Riverside Park and shivered. Normally, walking kept me warm enough under all my winter layers, but Berron said he wanted to surprise me—and to do that, I had to stand in the snow. The 91st Street Garden slept under its snow blanket, only disturbed by Berron’s footprints after he disappeared inside.
“Should have asked him to warm me up,” I said to myself, remembering his warming magic only a few minutes too late.
Snow had fallen on New York, frosting every branch, covering the ground. The snow had blown in with such wind that it stuck to the windward side of the trees as if it had been carefully sprayed on. The snow lay on top of the old-fashioned lamps like a cap, and on the benches like a cold, custom-fit cushion.
The wind had stopped after the storm, leaving everything crystal and perfect. The parks department had cleared the walkways and stairs, but everything else was uninterrupted white powder.
Anything resembling a slope had kids and adults trying to sled down it.
I bounced up and down on the balls of my feet, trying to stay warm and dispel my impatience.
