by Emma Savant
“You know—“ Olivia started, but I cut her off.
“Already on it.”
An hour later, we sat at a tiny white wrought-iron table, sipping fairy dust cocoa and watching the crowd. My purchases sat in bags near my feet. A corner of one of the baby blankets peeked out of a paper bag that said Elvira.
“You did good,” Olivia said.
“We did good,” I said.
“Maia, inexplicably, did good,” Olivia said, and smirked at me.
She picked up a hazelnut biscotti from the plate on our table and dipped it into her cocoa.
“Weird to think this all started because we thought someone was trying to take over the world again,” I said.
Olivia snorted. “I thought someone was trying to take over the world again,” she said. “Or the Council did, anyway.”
“I’m glad they were wrong.”
“Me too,” she said. “Elvira started something wonderful.”
“And it looks like maybe they’ll be able to keep it going,” she said. Their tent was still swimming with people; I was amazed they had any merchandise left to sell.
We leaned back and let the world spin around us. Lazily, Olivia pulled her wand out of her hair. She nodded up at the ceiling, a question in her eyes, and because it was Olivia, I didn’t have to ask what she meant. I pulled out my wand and directed it at a chandelier.
“Go,” she whispered.
We waved our wands in unison, and snow began to fall from the ballroom ceiling. Big fluffy flakes glittered down in the light from the chandeliers, melting into nothing the moment they hit the floor. People gasped and looked up, and a few younger faeries began twirling in circles, trying to catch the insubstantial snowflakes on their tongues.
“Happy holidays, Gen,” Olivia said.
I nudged her foot with mine, then we leaned back, cocoa in hand, and watched the snow fall.
A Note from Emma
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About the Author
Emma Savant lives with her gorgeous husband and adorable cat in a small town in Oregon, where she spends way too much time watching Star Trek and eating nachos. She loves fairy tales and once took an archery class in the hopes of becoming more Narnian.
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