The Future Falls (48 page)

Charlie hung up the phone as Auntie Gwen came out onto the roof. She shook her head at Jack, and he went back to watching the cars pass down below on the street. “If that's a bowl of soup . . .”

“Allie's worried about you. Are you surprised?”

“No. But I'm full.” Her belly curved out between the prominent bones of her hips and shifted uncomfortably as she took the bowl. “Over full.” Without taking her eyes off Auntie Gwen, she held it out to the right and felt Jack take it from her.

“So, you two are together?”

Charlie thought about playing dumb as to the meaning of together, but as the entire family would have an opinion they'd happily share, she might as well get one of them out of the way. “Not yet. We thought we'd get to know each other first—all Jack knows is a memory and I don't know him, this him, at all. People change in twenty years.”

Jack had turned and become a warm presence against her side. “Even dragons change,” he said. “Though slowly.”

“Things have changed.”
He'd winked when he said it.

What the hell had that meant? Not that the Wood had changed. That was an observation too obvious even for a god. Why wouldn't his immortal years weigh so heavily?

“. . . old?”

“What?”

Auntie Gwen rolled her eyes as Charlie focused. “I asked, how old is he?”

“How old is Jack?”

“You say he was in the Courts for twenty years and you started out thirteen years older. Thirteen from twenty is seven. But as I doubt it's exactly seven, is it seven years minus a month or two or seven years plus a month or two.”

“We saved the world.” More a whine than a declaration, the pitch drove the pigeons off the edge of the roof. The last thing Charlie'd expected was to be blindsided by the one rule, the only rule she wouldn't break.

“Do the math, Charlotte.”

“Oh for . . . fine. Thirty-two weeks for twins three and four . . .”

“Thirty-one and three days,” Auntie Gwen corrected.

“Two years before the next conception . . .”

“Two years, three months, fourteen days.”

“Hours and minutes?” Charlie snapped.

Auntie Gwen smiled. “If you want. Shall we continue?”

Fortunately, dragons were good at math.

“Happy?” Charlie muttered when they were done.

“Actually, yes.” Auntie Gwen cupped the side of her face and kissed her cheek then did the same to Jack. “You two are good for each other. And I never liked it that the Wild Powers were expected to be alone. Gales need family. If Catherine had someone to run Wild with, she'd be less Machiavellian.”

“You sure about that?”

“Not really, no.”

Charlie took a deep breath when Auntie Gwen left the roof, turned, and beat her head against the solid mass of Jack's shoulder half a dozen times. She released him reluctantly when he moved away but smiled when she realized why he'd needed the room.

“You're magnificent, you know that, right? All gleamy gold and muscle and Wild Power barely contained by scales and I should just shut up now.” She'd seen him larger out at Drumheller, but here on the roof he was the bass line that kept the song on course. The skirl of pipes at the start of every parade. A Howard Shore theme.

He spread his wings and dipped his head back under the curve so he could meet her gaze. “Fly with me?”

A dozen responses considered and discarded, Charlie settled on, “Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Duh.”

When dragons laughed, the world laughed with them. Or maybe, Charlie admitted, it was just her and Jack.

He adjusted his size as she straddled his neck until she felt as though she'd become a part of him and the anthem she could feel rising contained at least three verses she'd never be able to sing with children in the audience. Hidden within a glamour, Jack's wings cupped the air, the enormous muscles in his back and shoulders flexed, and they rose up over the city, circling around until their shadow raced along the road in front of the store.

The pigeons dove under the newspaper box, slowly enough Charlie suspected it was for old time's sake. She clung to the column of Jack's neck with both hands and reminded herself to breathe. In. Out. In.

It felt like . . .

It felt like flying.

He dipped one wing and circled the Calgary Tower. “Where to, Charlie?”

She sang a charm to keep her hair out of her eyes and laughed. “Everywhere! But first, let's go see a man about a
bouzouki.”