I give her a salute before turning away, hoping she’s right. About everything.
Epilogue
Six Months Later
JACK
I nearly trip on Fleur’s heels as we navigate down the steep wooded hillside, my hands covering her eyes.
“Where are we going?” She chokes on a breathy laugh as I bump into her back. She knows exactly where we are. Her consciousness is attuned to every branch and blade of grass on this mountain, but she’s doing a good job of playing along for my benefit.
“Just keep your eyes closed.” I pick up the pace as the hillside levels out and the boarding school comes into sight.
The soles of our shoes stick in the cold mud as I lead her to the edge of the pond. It feels like just yesterday that I was holding her hand, dragging her out on its surface, asking her to trust me, promising her I wouldn’t let her fall under as I froze the water beneath her feet.
I take my hands from her eyes. “Open them,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around her waist.
She bites her lip with a nostalgic smile. “Are you okay?” she asks, leaning against me, her head tucked under my chin.
My grandfather’s cabin is gone. I spent the morning sitting on a boulder, staring at the black ring of ash where it had stood. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
She turns in my arms. There’s soot on her cheek and I brush it away. “We can rebuild it,” she says. “I know a few good contractors.” We laugh and I pull her into me, holding her as I watch the sun begin to dip below the trees.
“I’d like that,” I say into her hair. She smells exquisitely familiar, but different now. More than lilies, more than Spring. She’s the ancient oaks in Greenwich Park and the salt mist of the Thames. She’s the woodsmoke at my grandfather’s cabin, the creosote in the canyon, and the crashing surf in La Jolla Cove, wild and lovely, reflecting every elemental magic inside her.
“Come on,” she says, taking my hand and tugging me toward the water’s edge, a dangerous glint in the facets of her eyes.
I dig in my heels and consider pausing the timer on the world just to keep from getting wet. “Fleur, what are you doing? I can’t take you skating.”
“Who said anything about you taking me?” She steps onto the pond, raising a cocky eyebrow as the water freezes under her. She pulls me along with her, the shelf of ice growing until it’s wide enough for both of us, spreading all the way to the opposite shore until the entire pond is ours. She’s far more powerful than I ever was.
“Show-off,” I tease her, but she catches my subtle flinch. This place is full of memories. Not all of them beautiful. Most of them painful.
“We can go back,” she says, her face falling. Guilt shimmers in her eyes.
“No,” I say, pushing out with one foot. I know better. There’s no going back. Only moving forward in time. It’s how we heal. How we rebuild and start over. I may not be a Winter anymore. But I’m someone new. Someone stronger. Not just because I’m Chronos, but because of who I was before that—the man I became when I accepted that my magic was gone and I faced my fears anyway. “I want you to take me skating,” I tell her. “And then I want you to throw me down on the ground and kiss me like you did before.”
Her mouth falls open in mock indignation as she guides me backward across the ice. “I didn’t kiss you. You kissed me.”
I stop abruptly in the middle of the pond, tug her into my arms and hold her against me, searching for that specific memory in her eyes. I don’t have to look far. Fleur reveals that kiss to me, along with a few others that raise my body temp by degrees.
“Be careful,” I murmur. “The ice is thin.”
“I won’t let you fall a second time.”
“Too late,” I say, threading my fingers through her hair. “I already did.”
Time stands still as she reaches up on her toes to kiss me. Our lips meet somewhere in the middle, and we both linger after it’s over, our chilled breaths mingling. Lyon was right about the power. About the magic of living in the moment. About the importance of pausing every once in a while to appreciate what’s right in front of me. I trace Fleur’s lip with my thumb, memorizing the contour of her smile, my reflection in her eyes. Not because I’m afraid of what tomorrow brings. But because she’s here with me now.
I take her hand and let her lead me in lazy circles around the pond. For tonight. Tomorrow. Forever. This is enough.
Acknowledgments
This duology has been both a labor of love and a source of incredible joy for me. I adored writing these characters and their remarkable journey, and I’m eternally grateful to everyone who helped make these books a reality.
My stories would all be collecting dust and cobwebs in my head if not for my agent and Handler, Sarah Davies, who has guided me through every book with infinite wisdom and care. February 15, 2011, I made the decision to enter the Greenhouse. I am grateful beyond measure, Sarah, for the decade I’ve spent making books with you.
Thank you to the team at Rights People for your enthusiasm for Jack and Fleur, and for bringing my Seasons to other parts of the world.
I’m so, so lucky to have such a supportive publishing team. Tara Weikum, thank you for taking my books under your wing. My stories shine brighter for the wisdom and advice you, Sarah Homer, and Caitlin Lonning bring to every read. And this cover! Where do I begin? Designer Jessie Gang and Garrigosa Studio, you’ve captured the imagery of this world so beautifully, and I must be the luckiest author in the world to have a cover created by you. Ivy McFadden and Bethany Reis, thank you for the time and care you take with my words and my voice. It means the world. Gillian Wise, you are a magical being with extraordinary gifts, and I’m in awe of you. I owe my successful launch to you (and my UPS driver). Seriously, you’re amazing and I so, so appreciate you. And a million thanks to Shannon Cox, Sam Benson, and the entire team at HarperTeen.
The chapter titles for this book were borrowed from lines of poetry by Robert Frost, whose verses always manage to remind me of Jack. And the lovely line of poetry in Chapter 19 is taken from John Donne’s “The Sun Rising.”
I couldn’t do this job without Megan Miranda and Ashley Elston. Thanks for refilling my well, making me laugh, and keeping me balanced. I’d be in the wind without you.
Thanks to the keen eyes and generous hearts of the very talented critique partners who braved this wild, messy sequel with me: Christina Farley, Chelsea Pitcher, and Tessa Elwood—I’m so grateful for each of you.
For the talented folks who create bookish art—your work brings me so much joy. I’m so inspired by you. Many thanks to Jessica Khoury, mapmaker extraordinaire, for plucking the Observatory from my imagination and rendering it so exquisitely. Salome Totladze (@morgana0anagrom), you are magical! Thank you for making my Seasons so perfectly real! And Marissa at Burning Bright Candle Company, thank you for capturing each of my Season’s unique scents. How lucky I am to enjoy art created by each of you!
To One More Page Books in Northern Virginia, who generously hosted my launch event.
To my parents—for your endless support.
To my husband, Tony, who makes it all possible.
To my children, who one day may recognize bits and pieces of themselves in my books. Nick and Connor, whether you read them or not, every story I write is for you.
And finally, thank you to my readers. To the bookstagrammers (omg, those amazing pics!), bloggers, and reviewers. To the booksellers who support me. To the educators and librarians who put my stories in the minds and hands of those who need them. To the book box companies—The Bookish Box, Fae Crate, Totally Booked Crate, and Beacon Book Box—who embraced Seasons of the Storm in the middle of a pandemic and helped make the launch month a huge success—you all are amazing! To those who’ve been there since my very first books and to those who are only now finding them. My imaginary worlds, and this wonderful sandbox of creativity I get to play in, wouldn’t be nearly as much fun without you.
About the Author
; Photo by Powell Woulfe Photography
ELLE COSIMANO’s debut thriller, Nearly Gone, was an Edgar Award finalist and won the International Thriller Award for Best Young Adult Novel. Her novel Holding Smoke was a finalist for the Bram Stoker Award and the International Thriller Award. Elle lives in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia with her husband, her sons, and her dog. You can learn more about her at www.ellecosimano.com.
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Books by Elle Cosimano
Nearly Gone
Holding Smoke
The Suffering Tree
Seasons of the Storm
Seasons of Chaos
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Copyright
HarperTeen is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.
SEASONS OF CHAOS. Copyright © 2021 by Elle Cosimano. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
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Cover art © 2021 by Garrigosa Studio
Cover design by Jessie Gang
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Library of Congress Control Number: 2021934340
Digital Edition JUNE 2021 ISBN: 978-0-06-285429-2
Print ISBN: 978-0-06-285427-8
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2122232425PC/LSCH10987654321
FIRST EDITION
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Seasons of Chaos Page 37