The Blender’s Bargain – Chapter 27

Archie

The setting sun bleeds orange and pink across the lake, painting ripples on the water’s surface. Three weeks. It’s only been three weeks since Rumblestone, since the vortex collapsed, since everything changed. My chest still aches sometimes, and I have to catch my breath. It’s a deep thrumming reminder of the years sucked away, poured into the ancient seal. Twenty years. Maybe more.

Gone. Just like that.

I trail my fingers through the cool water, watching the ripples spread. The nightmares haven’t stopped. Flashes of swirling purple darkness, Vessa’s hate-filled eyes, the life draining away. But here, by the water, it’s quieter. Calmer. The gentle lapping against the dock soothes something raw inside me.

A warmth spreads through my palm, unexpected, tingling. My fingers twitch. Beneath the surface, the water swirls, forming a tiny, momentary whirlpool before dissolving back into the lake. It happens sometimes. Little bursts of… whatever this is inside me. Magic? Uncontrolled. Unasked for. Comforting and terrifying at the same time.

Footsteps scuff on the wooden planks behind me. Garrick. I don’t need to turn around to know it’s him. He’s been gone all day, dealing with the aftermath of our adventure, seeing his doctor for a checkup. His wound is healing, and the stitches came out last week. I missed him. His presence is a steady weight beside me now, a constant I lean on more than I probably should.

Ugh, I’m still dealing with the guilt.

He chose this. Chose me. Chose us, even knowing the cost. For me. For this insane, magical mess I dragged him into. And the knife wound… he could have died protecting me.

My heart clenches whenever I think about it, a painful squeeze of guilt mixed with something warm, something that feels like… well, love. (Okay, Archie, deep breaths. One existential crisis at a time.)

But how can it be anything else when he looks at me the way he does? Like I’m the only thing that matters in a world suddenly teeming with talking appliances and dark magic, like I’m worth sacrificing pieces of his own future for.

He sees me, really sees me, even the parts I try to hide, the messy, scared parts. And he stays. He always stays. That kind of devotion, the willingness to give up years of his life… yeah, that’s love. No doubt about it. And I think, maybe, I’m brave enough to feel it right back at him, as terrifying and wonderful as it is. 

He settles beside me on the edge of the dock, close enough for our shoulders brush. He doesn’t speak, just watches the sunset with me. The silence stretches, comfortable, familiar.

“How’s your mom today?” he asks, his voice low.

I sigh, drawing my knees up to my chest. “Quiet. Sleeping a lot. I’m not sure if she left her bed at all.” I pick at a splinter on the dock. “She looks… older. Tired. It’s hard seeing her like this.” The sacrifice aged her the most visibly, stealing decades in moments.

Garrick nods, his gaze sympathetic. “It’s a lot to process. For all of us.”

“Yeah.” I rest my chin on my knees. “Have you heard anything more? Did you watch the news while you were in town?” Our television hasn’t worked here since the syzygy, and my phone won’t charge anymore.

He shifts, stretching his long legs out. “Some reports. Strange things happening all over Latara, not just Stellura. Objects moving on their own. People discovering… talents.” He glances at me. “Seems like sealing the rift didn’t put the magic back in the box. Just stopped the immediate disaster.”

Great. So the world is turning into a fantasy novel. Just what I needed.

“And Marlo?” I keep my voice neutral. Curiosity wins over jealousy. For now.

“Last I heard, she was back in Coralton.” He pauses. “Branwen seems to think she won’t be back.”

I laugh. The mixer holding my descendant has a lot of opinions, especially about my parent’s kitchen. “Okay, then. I’ll stop thinking about her.”

“Stop thinking about anything,” he says, teasing. “It’s the summer.” Garrick’s hand finds mine, his fingers warm, calloused. The simple touch sends a jolt straight to my core. We sit for awhile, watching the last sliver of sun dip below the horizon, leaving the sky bruised purple and dotted with early stars.

“Twenty years,” I whisper into the growing darkness. The words hang heavy between us. Twenty years we both lost. Twenty years of birthdays, anniversaries, ordinary moments… erased. Sadness aches in my chest, a hollow space where my future used to be.

Garrick squeezes my hand. “Give or take. We still have time.” His voice is quiet but firm. “Maybe not as much as we thought. But enough. Enough for a good life.”

I lean my head against his shoulder, the solid strength of him a comfort. He’s right. Wallowing won’t bring those years back. We’re alive. We’re together. That has to count for something. More than something.

“We’ll make it count,” I murmur, turning my face into his warmth.

He shifts, wrapping an arm around me, pulling me closer. His lips brush my temple. “Damn right we will.”

“More people will wake up to their powers.” I close my eyes and remember the visions I saw. “We have a lot of work to do.”

He turns his head and kisses my hair. “Not today.”

I lift my free hand towards the lake. Focus. Feel the water. The energy thrums beneath my skin, more controlled this time. I picture the shape, the movement. Slowly, a globe of water rises from the lake’s surface, spinning gently, catching the faint starlight. It glows, an orb of liquid light hovering above the water.

Garrick watches, his eyes wide with a quiet wonder that makes my heart swell. “Wow.”

I hold it there for a moment, relishing in the connection, the power, understanding its shape, its purpose. With a gentle push of will, I let it dissolve back into the lake, ripples spreading outward in the darkness. Learning. Adapting. The magic gets stronger, more precise, every time I use it.

“You’re amazing, Archie. Whatever comes next,” Garrick says, his voice husky, “we’ll figure it out. Try not to worry.”

I turn towards him, lifting my face to his. His eyes search mine in the dim light, full of a tenderness that melts away the last of my lingering fear. “Of course, we’ll figure it out,” I echo. The “we” part is the best part of that whole sentence.

He leans down, capturing my lips in a kiss that’s slow, sweet, and full of promise. It speaks of shared loss, shared hope, and a future we’ll build side by side, shortened or not. When he pulls back, I rest my forehead against his, breathing him in.

A flicker of light catches my eye across the dark water. Another… and another. Strange, intermittent glows appearing along the far shore, like fireflies dancing where they shouldn’t be.

“What’s that?” I murmur, pulling away.

Garrick follows my gaze, his brow furrowing. More lights flicker to life, pulsing in the deep twilight around the lake. Not houses. Not boats.

Those weren’t just random flickers, either, not like any fireflies I’d ever seen.

Garrick had mentioned it, hadn’t he? Reports trickling in from all over Latara. People suddenly discovering… talents. Unexpected abilities.

Like me with the water, only maybe someone else is making rocks float, or coaxing flowers to bloom in winter, or, I don’t know, spontaneously setting their overdue library books on fire. (Okay, probably not that last one, but you get the idea.)

The lights across the lake vibrate with an odd, ethereal rhythm, some a soft blue similar to my own tentative water-magic, others a fiery orange, a few even a deep, earthy green. It’s as if the planet itself is stirring after a long, enchanted sleep, and all its hidden, forgotten abilities are blinking on, one by one, across the globe.

A beautiful, eerie, planetary light show. This isn’t just about ancient seals and cranky magicians in appliances anymore. This is bigger. Way bigger.

This is Magic.

Awakening.

Everywhere.