Epilogue
LaLa
Missingness: When there is a hole inside of you, but you cannot remember what caused it, or what was taken. You simply know that something was there, and now it is gone. Poof. Vanished. No more.
This was the feeling that LaLa always carried with her. She couldn’t ever leave it behind—although she had tried.
When Dane had returned, she thought he would finally take the feeling away; she thought his love would fill the jagged hole inside of her. But she was struggling to return the love, which left her feeling as if she was missing even more than before.
The closest she ever came to relief from the missingness inside of her was on days like today.
The sun had set, but the Hollow was covered in glowing lanterns.
The light was warm and the air was smoke-touched, but LaLa could still smell all the sugar and pie crust. Everywhere she looked, people were smiling and chattering, and children were squealing delightedly as they climbed trees full of sparkling light and hunted for hidden treasure.
And for a moment, LaLa was almost-happy.
LaLa adored Evangeline. She loved that her friend was so full of love and hope and all of those beautiful emotions that LaLa sometimes struggled to feel. But just then, LaLa particularly loved her friend for how she had brought back a form of magic to this most beloved place.
LaLa had half grown up in the Hollow. When her family was alive, they had lived so close to the Hollow that she had spent much of her childhood running around it like a feral little dragon.
Arliss and Henrick—Jacks’s long-gone parents—had hosted craft fairs for every season, and these fairs were always full of the kind of magic that usually only sat in the background of fairytales. LaLa’s mother called it cupboard magic.
Cupboard magic is the kind that happens when a person discovers a door and opens it for the very first time. Most doors don’t lead to magic, but her mother always said there was nothing like that feeling of discovery.
Usually, young LaLa’s fair discoveries had involved spools of lace or hand-stitched ribbon.
As she strolled through the Hollow now, she could still picture some of her favorites from those long-ago fairs.
A moss-green velvet ribbon that she had sometimes tied around her neck.
A crimson satin ribbon with hand-stitched bronze stars that she used to wear in her hair.
A stretch of cream lace covered in little bells, which she had once attached to a pair of gloves, so that all eyes would turn her way when she entered a room.
Although LaLa’s human life had ended long ago, the memories of it still felt so much fresher than any of her others.
For a Fate, most humans and human things were so dull, it was difficult to retain memories of them.
The brightest memories LaLa possessed were from when she was still human and all the world was still bright.
It almost felt that way again tonight, LaLa mused, as she wove between tents selling everything from hot cocoa with flavored whipped cream to pirate ships inside of bottles.
“Would the lovely miss like some charms for her hair?” called one vendor, while another offered to paint a portrait of her heart’s true love.
She was about to pause and ask a question about the portrait when she felt a spark of heat dance across the back of her shoulder blades. Someone was watching her.
He was watching.
Chaos.
She could feel him, close, but not too close. If she turned to look—which she absolutely would not do—she imagined she’d find him standing just beyond the circle of torchlight that surrounded all the tents.
LaLa didn’t know how she could sense him so acutely. Unlike his older brother, Dane, LaLa had very few memories of Chaos from before. From when he was Castor and she was Ariel and they both lived life under the bright sunshine.
Until one of them didn’t.
LaLa tried to focus on the vendors and the tents and the barefoot children running with their sticky treats. Keep your chin up. Keep your head high. Don’t let him see you’ve noticed, LaLa told herself.
But it was hard not to notice him when she could feel him stepping closer. She could feel the warmth along her shoulder blades turning hotter. A fire instead of a spark. Chaos was watching her with the same intensity with which she was trying not to watch him.
But now he was getting too close. In one second, he would be walking right alongside her, and then it would look obviously disingenuous if she didn’t notice him.
LaLa flicked a calculated glance to the side, tilting her head just slightly.
She didn’t like to acknowledge the fact that he was so much taller than she was.
But LaLa believed it was always wise to look an opponent in the eyes.
And Chaos was her opponent—even if she couldn’t truly look in his eyes.
It was foolishness to look into the eyes of a vampire, especially one like Chaos.
LaLa’s memories of him from before might have been scarce, but there was one memory she would never forget. Eyes wide. Unmoving. Throats ripped into by teeth.
Even now, just the thought of it poured ice all over the heat.
“What are you doing here?” Her voice came out shriller than she had intended.
Shrill sounded frail, and she wanted to be strong.
If Evangeline had noticed the effect that Chaos had on her, then Chaos was undoubtedly aware of it, too, and LaLa didn’t want that.
She wanted him gone. Away. Dane might have left her with a sense of more missingness, but Chaos left LaLa feeling as if he’d torn open a wound that she couldn’t shut, no matter how hard she tried to heal it.
He might not have actually bitten his teeth into her, but she felt as if he was a danger to her, merely walking by her side. So close that she could no longer ignore him.
And, still, he had not answered her question.
Finally, he said, “I imagine I’m here for the same reason as you?”
“You came to buy lace?”
The corner of his mouth turned upward. “I do have a fondness for lace, on the right occasion. But no—I just wanted to see this place once more.” His eyes went from the hanging lanterns above the cobblestoned walkway to the colorful tents full of shining wares—a safe sort of magic that humans could touch.
He looked at everything, and yet his gaze avoided everyone. His eyes didn’t linger on any humans.
He was trying.
But it didn’t matter.
A wolf could try to be a rabbit, but it was never going to be able to live on grass and flowers.
“Well, now you’ve seen. You can go.” She made a shooing motion with her hand.
The other half of Chaos’s mouth lifted, giving him an actual smile.
Instantly, the head of every woman—and a few of the men—turned his way, eyes drawn to the smile like bugs to a honeyed web.
“You shouldn’t do that,” LaLa scolded.
“All I did was smile.”
“Yes, but you shouldn’t smile like that.
” She turned to glare but her gaze went a fraction too high, and she found herself looking into his eyes.
Chaos had always possessed beautiful eyes.
When he was a human, they had been forest green, the color of leaves and trees with a little damp, but now that he was a vampire they were mesmerizing.
He was mesmerizing. His handsome face, his cut jaw, his eyes, his height, which she pretended to hate but of course she didn’t.
When she saw him, she thought he was capable and strong and—
His hands clamped onto her shoulders, heavy and forceful. “Don’t,” he gritted out. “Don’t. Ever. Do. That.”
His eyes met hers once more. The look in them was agonized, and then he was gone. Vanished with a swiftness that left her unsteady on her feet as dust from his quick departure swirled around the hem of her dress.
Eyes that had been on her and Chaos now looked bewildered.
The humans would wonder for a second, but then they would forget what they had seen, or they would remember something different.
They would most likely recall seeing a wolf pup run through tents.
Something safer that their minds could make sense of.
Something that would still allow them to have a night of merriment.
They would have no idea that death had stalked so near to them.
Only LaLa would remember it for what it was. Only her night would be shattered. She walked a few more steps, but she no longer felt almost-happy.
The missingness was back. She was about to leave—maybe she’d go home and sew, or cry, or cry and sew—when she saw the tent with the mirrors.
It was several tents down, near the end of the row, and there were two mirrors in front of it, both taller than the average person and lit by fiery torches that flickered dramatically on the mercury glass, with a tall young man standing between them.
The harsh light danced over his leather boots covered in leaves and his green velvet doublet.
He was the young man from the Emporium of Else.
And he was beautiful.
LaLa did not often find humans beautiful. She had lived so many lifetimes that all faces had started to look familiar. To her, humans were usually just young or old, but this young man fit into an entirely different category.
LaLa did not like it.
She did not trust this young man’s uncanny beauty, which, of course, only made her more curious. Yesterday, when Evangeline had whispered something about him being a fairy, LaLa had dismissed her. Fairies were not real. Except Jacks and Chaos both seemed to think they were.
LaLa swayed closer to the tent. Unlike the rest of the tents whose vendors were showing off their wares, these tent flaps were closed, secured with a lock made of twisting tree branches. The only things on display were the two mirrors.
The one on the right LaLa recognized almost immediately. The Mirror of Infinite Endings. Her skin prickled the same way it had yesterday, a feeling she had not felt for a very long time.
As a magic thing, LaLa often found herself drawn to other magic things, but the magic of this mirror was different.