Chapter 39 Rowe
Rowe
Holy cow.
Tallulah’s horn is lit up. As I stare in wonder, trying to put puzzle pieces together, the other piggycorns’ horns light up, and as they brighten, so does the bulb hanging from the ceiling. It shines as if the piggycorns are what’s causing it to glow.
I blink as I realize the piggycorns are causing it to glow.
Pane points to them. “They’re doing it.”
“How?”
He looks around until his gaze lands on the starfizz berries. “I think that may be the culprit.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“But how?”
He walks over and runs a hand over the dried berries. “The ley lines.”
“What?”
He scoops up a handful and lets them fall through his fingers back into the crate. “You said that they used to grow here, right?”
“Uh-huh.”
He studies the crate of dried dark-purple husks. “And you also said that they stopped growing berries here around the same time as the piggycorns showed up.”
“Yeah.”
Pane thinks for a moment, and when he speaks, it’s with the energy of someone who’s solved a long-puzzling mystery. “And you also said that the power began to dwindle at the same time.”
Now I’m on board, completely following his logic. “You’re saying . . .” I try to keep the excitement from my voice, because there are a lot of probables and a lot of places where this whole idea could be wrong. But it might not be. We might be very, very right.
I start over. “You’re saying that the magic began in the ley lines, but it flourished because of these berries.”
“Yes,” he proclaims. “Yes! The berries are the key. Mystic Meadows didn’t lose its magic because the unicorns were overbred, though maybe that had something to do with it. Your town was drained dry because the land needs these, and it needs these to grow here, near the ley lines.”
“The ley lines,” I murmur, really not knowing what else to say.
He scoops up another handful and lets the small round globes fall through the spaces between his fingers. “These are the key, and you, Rowe Wadley—brilliant, beautiful you—figured it out!”
I roll my eyes. “Kind of by accident.”
Pane strokes my cheek and gazes down at me, eyes brimming with emotion. “The best kind of discovery is that which is unexpected.”
My heart does this little flutter thing because it feels like he’s talking about more than starfizz berries.
The light bulb buzzes and he looks up. “I mean, you’re seeing what I am, right? That the piggycorns are creating electricity?”
“I think so,” I murmur. “Are we sure?”
My gaze flicks to the piggies, and as if they understood my doubt, their horns flare brighter and so does the single bulb dangling from the ceiling.
A grin breaks across Pane’s face. “They have magic.”
The realization slowly soaks into me, and I throw my arms into the air, yelling, “They have magic! The piggycorns have magic!”
My heart nearly explodes with happiness. All these years, people scoffed at my piggycorns. They were called useless. Worthless. A waste of existence.
But they are not a waste. They are very much not so. They have magic, the likes of which no one has ever suspected.
Least of all me.
Pane pulls me into a hug and murmurs in my ear, “I knew they had powers all along. I knew they could do it.”
I laugh, pulling away to stare into those sage eyes. “No, you didn’t.”
“Now, why would you ever think that?”
“Because you hated them.”
He presses his lips to mine and I melt. “Used to is not now.”
I pull back and grin. I could stare at his beautiful face for the absolute rest of my life and be happy. Nothing could change that. But there’s a competition to win, a spa to open, a farm to buy back.
“What do you say we get out of here and see how things look?”
He nods. “Yeah, before we’ve got a pile of heaping manure to clean up.”
I laugh, trying to keep my spirits high, because from the way the wind was howling, there’s at least one tree down, and I pray that’s the worst of it.