“Come home, my Cernunnos,” I whisper, kissing my way back to his mouth. Images of our meadow flicker in my mind, the scent of wildflowers invading my memory. “Baz, please. We’re all right here waiting for you.”
The breeze stirs, as soft as a sigh…
No, not the breeze. An actual sigh.
A deep breath.
A shocked gasp, and suddenly Baz bolts upright, scattering the hematite and rocks.
He stares ahead, his whole body trembling.
All of us are holding our collective breaths.
“Baz?” I whisper, sitting up and touching his shoulder. “Baz? Can you hear me?”
Slowly, he turns to look at me. His brow is furrowed, his eyes wild, his mouth parted as he struggles to slow his breathing.
But then his eyes light up, and he takes my face between his hands and kisses me fiercely, and the entire group whistles and cheers.
We did it. We brought him home.
He finally pulls back to look at me, his gaze sweeping down to my lips, then back up to my eyes.
“Don’t cry,” he whispers, swiping my tears with his thumbs. His vulnerable smile melts my heart. “Please, Stevie. You’re killing me.”
“Goddess, Baz. I thought we lost you. I thought I’d never—”
“Shh. I’m okay. We’re all okay.” He silences me with another kiss, then pulls back to look at Kirin. They share a quick nod, but the look in their eyes tells me just how much they care about each other.
Just how much we all came close to losing tonight.
“What even happened?” I asked him, still processing the fact that things went so sideways tonight. “Why didn’t you come back with us?”
“What can I say? The place was starting to grow on me.” He cracks another smile, all traces of vulnerability gone. “I figured I’d stick around, take in some of the sights, have a little fun.”
I know he’s kidding, forcing the jokes to cover up the fact that he practically died—worsethan died—but still. I can’t find the humor in it. Not tonight.
“Fun?” I snap. “You call thatfun?”
“Like fucking Disneyland, baby.” Still grinning, he folds back the blanket, giving us all a show.
For once, it’s not his rock-hard abs—or rock-hard anything else, for that matter—making my heart skip.
There, sitting proudly on his lap and gleaming in the moonlight, is the Sword of Breath and Blade.
“Holy shit on a shamrock,” I breathe. “Is that—”
“Yeah, I think maybe you dropped this on your way out?” He lifts it from his lap and hands it over, but apparently the surprises are just beginning. “Oh, I picked up another little souvenir too.”
With two hands, he lifts the object from his lap. About the size of a steering wheel, grooved and blackened with age, but there’s no doubt in my mind what it is.
“The Pentacle of Iron and Bone,” I whisper, allowing myself about ten seconds to admire both objects, to revel in the fact that we actually—against all odds—pulled this off tonight.
Then, before anyone else can utter a word, I turn to Doc and say, “We need to cloak them. Right fucking now.”
“Get Professor Maddox,” Doc tells Ani. “Quick.”
Ani’s gone and back in a flash.
