Kami Garcia - Beautiful Chaos

For our mothers

Susan Racca,
who raises baby squirrels and
feeds them with an eyedropper,
&
Marilyn Ross Stohl,
who could drive a tractor before
she could drive a car.

They are true Gatlin Peaches.

Tumult and peace, the darkness and the light
Were all like workings of one mind, the features
Of the same face, blossoms upon one tree;
Characters of the great Apocalypse,
The types and symbols of Eternity,
Of first, and last, and midst, and without end.

W ILLIAM W ORDSWORTH , The Prelude: Book Sixth

BEFORE

I n Gatlin, its funny how the good things are all tied up with the bad. Sometimes its hard to tell which is which. But either way, you end up taking your sugar with your salt and your kicks with your kisses, as Amma would say.

I dont know if its like that everywhere. I only know Gatlin, and this is what I know: By the time I got back to my usual seat at church with the Sisters, the only news being passed along with the collection plate was that the Bluebird Caf had stopped serving up hamburger soup, peach pie season was winding down, and some hooligans had stolen the tire swing from the old oak near the Generals Green. Half the congregation was still shuffling down the carpeted aisles in what my mom used to call Red Cross shoes. With all the purple knees puffing up where the knee-highs ended, it felt like a whole sea of legs was holding its breath. At least I was.

But the Sisters still propped their hymnals open to the wrong pages with their curled knuckles, wadded up handkerchiefs buried in the spotted roses of their hands. Nothing kept them from singing the melody, loud and shrill, as they tried to drown one another out. Except Aunt Prue. She accidentally hit on a real harmony about three notes out of three hundred, but nobody minded. Some things didnt have to change, and maybe they shouldnt. Some things, like Aunt Prue, were meant to be off-key.

It was as if this summer had never happened, and we were safe within these walls. Like nothing but the thick, colored sunlight streaming through the stained-glass windows could force its way in here. Not Abraham Ravenwood or Hunting and his Blood Pack. Not Lenas mother Sarafine or the Devil himself. Nobody else could get past the fierce hospitality of the ushers handing out programs. And even if they did, the preacher would keep on preaching and the choir would keep on singing, because nothing short of the apocalypse could keep folks in Gatlin out of church or each others business.

But outside these walls, this summer had changed everything, in both the Caster and Mortal worlds, even if the folks in Gatlin didnt know it. Lena had Claimed herself both Light and Dark and split the Seventeenth Moon. A battle between Demons and Casters had ended in death on both sides and opened a crack in the Order of Things the size of the Grand Canyon. What Lena had done was the Caster equivalent of smashing the Ten Commandments. I wondered what the folks in Gatlin would think about that, if theyd ever know. I hoped they wouldnt.

This town used to make me feel claustrophobic, and I hated it. Now it felt more like something expected, something I would miss someday. And that day was coming. No one knew that better than I did.

Sugar and salt and kicks and kisses. The girl I loved had come back to me and broken the world. Thats what actually happened this summer.

Wed seen the last of hamburger soup and peach pie and tire swings. But wed seen the start of something, too.

The beginning of the End of Days.

9.07

I was standing on the top of the white water tower, with my back to the sun. My headless shadow fell across the warm painted metal, disappearing off the edge and into the sky. I could see Summerville stretching out before me, all the way to the lake, from Route 9 to Gatlin. This had been our happy place, mine and Lenas. One of them, at least. But I wasnt feeling happy. I felt like I was going to throw up.

My eyes were watering, but I didnt know why. Maybe it was the light.

Come on, already. Its time.

I clenched and unclenched my fistsstaring out at the tiny houses, the tiny cars, and the tiny peoplewaiting for it to happen. The dread churned in my stomach, heavy and wrong. Then the familiar arms slammed into my waist, knocking the air out of me and dragging me down to the metal ladder. My jaw hit the side of the railing, and I stumbled. I lurched forward, trying to throw him off.

Who are you?

But the harder I swung, the harder he hit me. The next punch landed in my stomach, and I doubled over. Thats when I saw them.

His black Chucks. They were so old and beat-up, they could have been mine.

What do you want?

I didnt wait for an answer. I lunged for his throat, and he went for mine. Thats when I caught a look at his face, and I saw the truth.

He was me.

As we stared into each others eyes and clawed at each others throats, we rolled over the edge of the water tower and fell.

The whole way down, I could only think one thing.

Finally.

My head hit the floor with a crack, and my body followed a second later, the sheets tangled around me. I tried to open my eyes, but they were still blurred with sleep. I waited for the panic to subside.

In my old dreams, I had tried to keep Lena from falling. Now I was the one falling. What did that mean? Why did I wake up feeling like Id already fallen?

Ethan Lawson Wate! What in our Sweet Redeemers name are you doin up there? Amma had a particular way of shouting that could haul you right back up out of Hades, as my dad would say.

I opened my eyes, but all I could see was a lonely sock, a spider working its way aimlessly through the dust, and a few beat-up, spine-busted books. Catch-22.Enders Game.The Outsiders. A few others. The thrilling view under my bed.

Nothing. Just shutting the window. I stared at my window, but I didnt close it. I always slept with it open. Id started leaving it open when Macon diedat least, when we thought hed diedand now it was a reassuring habit. Most people felt safer with their windows closed, but I knew a closed window couldnt protect me from the things I was afraid of. It couldnt keep out a Dark Caster or a Blood Incubus.

I wasnt sure anything could.

But if there was a way, Macon seemed determined to find it. I hadnt seen much of him since we came back from the Great Barrier. He was always in the Tunnels anyway, or working on some kind of protective Cast to Bind Ravenwood. Lenas house had become the Fortress of Solitude since the Seventeenth Moon, when the Order of Thingsthe delicate balance that regulated the Caster worldwas broken. Amma was creating her own Fortress of Solitude here at Wates Landingor Fortress of Superstition, as Link called it. Amma wouldve called it taking preventative measures. She had lined every windowsill with salt and used my dads rickety stepladder to hang cracked glass bottles upside down on every branch of our crepe myrtle tree. In Waders Creek, bottle trees were as common as cypresses. Now whenever I saw Links mom at the Stop & Steal, Mrs. Lincoln said the same thingCaught any evil spirits in those old bottles yet?