Laurel paused. Then she took David’s hand and wrapped it round Chelsea’s. After a long moment he nodded and led Chelsea through the gateway and out of Avalon. Laurel took one look back before following. She saw Marion, her face the picture of shock; Jamison, his fist raised in triumph, a roar of cheers and applause surrounding him; Yasmine, still standing on the bench, looking every bit the queen Laurel had no doubt she would one day be.
Grinning, she twined her fingers through Tamani’s and together they walked out into the glittering starlight of California. Laurel considered the words Tamani had just spoken. They were technically true; soon they would be in David’s car, headed towards the house where she lived. But she knew the truth now. With Tamani beside her – his hand in hers – she was already home.
Despite this being a series about faeries, ultimately the question that has always driven the story is, How would a regular human react to discovering real magic in the world? And even more than Chelsea, this question was embodied in David’s character. In some ways, the whole Wings story is about him. And at the end of such an epic adventure, what really does the rejected member of any supernatural love triangle have to look forward to? Especially a human.
What follows is the real and final end – the way I decided to conclude the series before the first book was even written. But because it’s very realistic, it is also unavoidably bittersweet. So if you prefer your endings happy and without blemish, or if you simply love David as much as I do, maybe you should stop reading here.
You’ve been warned.
Dear Chelsea,
Congratulations! I’m so excited for you and Jason. I can’t believe you’re already a mother; it feels like the wedding was just last week. And even though you hated them, I hope little Sophie gets your curls. I always thought they were beautiful. I’ve included a little gift for her. But it probably bears explaining.
Once upon a time, a faerie stole my heart.
What I didn’t know at the time was that she hadn’t stolen it from me. You’d had it on credit for years. But before you could make the final payment, she carried it off. And something I never did understand was how easily you forgave her for that.
But of course, there were a lot of things I didn’t understand about you back then. I treasure the time we spent together at Harvard – you were amazing, every single day, pulling my thoughts away from that faraway island and reminding me to just breathe. I needed that reminder. I still need it. I don’t think you have any idea – especially on those hard nights, when I was afraid to go to sleep, afraid to face the nightmares, and you would just lie there with me, talking into the wee hours of the morning – how often you literally saved my life.
When you moved on – perhaps it’s more accurate to say, when I drove you away – I didn’t know how I was going to keep myself together. I tried to stay busy, buried myself in schoolwork . . . med school has been good for that! But I came to understand why you left, and eventually I had to face the things that were holding me back. I know how you worried about my attachment to Laurel, but in the end, it wasn’t Laurel I couldn’t get over.
It was Avalon.
When I woke screaming in the night, you never asked me why. I loved you for that. Of course, you could probably guess that trolls figured heavily in those dreams. But nightmares spent reliving that day in Avalon weren’t the worst of what I suffered. Sometimes I dreamed that I brought that cursed sword home, and with it came to rule the world. Sometimes I dreamed that I conquered Avalon, too, and with the secrets of the faeries, eradicated sickness, hunger, and disease. In those dreams, I’m every bit the tyrant Klea aspired to be, and what’s worse, almost everyone loves me for it.
Those are the dreams that are the worst upon waking. When I’m on my rotations and someone brings in a child who’s sick or injured and I can see at a glance that their chances are slim, it’s all I can do not to airlift them to Orick, knock on Laurel’s door, and beg her to give me her little blue bottle of miracles. But I know that’s not how it works. Can you imagine the wars that would be waged for control of Avalon, if its secrets were widely known?
I’m resisting the urge to start this letter over for the hundredth time. I don’t mean to be bleak. I’m sorry. But Chelsea – the things we know! Faeries, trolls, magic! Things most people dismiss as childhood fancies. But we know the truth – we know they’re real. That the world we see is just a shadow of what actually exists. I don’t know how you keep from shouting it from the rooftops sometimes. But we both know where that would land us, and stark white has never been your colour, or mine.
Anyway, I’ve met someone and I’m excited to introduce her to the gang back in Crescent City. I think you’ll like her. We’ve actually been together, off and on, for more than a year, and I’ve decided to propose. Frankly, I think she’s shown a lot of patience waiting this long for me to come around.
But after being with you I decided that, if love ever came back into my life, I needed to do it right. I had to find a way to let Avalon go – to stop dwelling on the past and let myself turn my face to the future. And there was one obvious answer. An answer I never, ever thought I would consider. And I suspect that even as you read these words, you know what I’m talking about. That’s partly why I’m writing instead of using the phone. I’m not sure I could stand up to one of your famous lectures. By the time you get this, the deed will be done, and I hope you’ll forgive me.
I went to see Laurel and Tam. Forgive her, too, for agreeing to keep this secret from you. If it helps, it took a lot of convincing.
Laurel has spent months perfecting a memory elixir that will strip Avalon from my mind. It’s going to put a lot of gaps in my memories of high school . . . she doesn’t think it will significantly change my memory of you, but she doubts I’ll remember her very much, or Tamani at all. She thinks she can leave enough of herself that when Mom talks about her – as she sometimes does – I can nod and say, “Oh yeah, my high school girlfriend.” But it won’t be her.
It was hard to say goodbye to them. It’s been years since I got over her in a romantic way – when you and I were together. You had my whole heart. But what we shared, the four of us, it can’t help but bind you. And as much as I never thought I would say this, Tam has been a really good friend to me these last few years. In the end, it was he who convinced Laurel to make the elixir. He who convinced her that it was my right to choose.
I’m in awe of your strength, Chelsea, and hope you’ll forgive my weakness. But before I take that final step: Sophie’s gift. (Though maybe you will enjoy it just as much!) Erasing a memory seems so final, and I don’t want everything to be lost. It’s a damn good story, isn’t it? So I’ve been writing it down and going to Laurel for her memories and the details I was never privy to. You’ll see that she didn’t hold back. She told me everything and I’ve tried to relay it here as faithfully as possible. It’s way too long to make a proper book, but if a certain little girl grows up to be anything like her mother, she won’t mind. She’ll love it because it has faeries.
So I’ve enclosed the only copy of our story in the world. I’ve already erased it from my hard drive. I’m giving it to you to do with as you wish. Keep it, share it, hell, publish it, for all I care. But please accept it in the spirit it is given, and don’t try to make me remember all this. I can’t bear it any longer; please, please don’t try to force me to. I can’t get married carrying round the kinds of secrets I would have to keep from my wife. And I want to give Rose the kind of future – the kind of husband – I know she deserves. The kind of man I know I can be. The kind of man I used to be. The man you used to love.
It’s hard to believe we’ve been friends for almost fifteen years. We’re getting old! But, God willing, we’ll get another fifty.
Love,
David
P.S. Introduce me to Tam someday, if you get a chance. I miss him already.
Kudos always go out first to my brilliant editors, Tara Weikum and Erica Sussman, who make me l
ook good, and to Jodi Reamer, my awesome agent, who, well, also makes me look good! Thank you for being constants in my career. There are so many people at Harper whose names I don’t even know who worked tirelessly on this book – thanks to every single one of you! And my foreign-rights team, Maja, Cecilia, and Chelsey, the degree to which you rock cannot be described! Alec Shane, trusty agent assistant, your handwriting on my mail always means something good.
Sarah, Sarah, Sarah, Carrie, Saundra (now aka Sarah) – I would go crazy without you guys. Thank you for everything! Especially the ninjas. I mean . . . what ninjas?
Just one new name credit for this book, Silve, my Facebook fan, like I said – I love your name. Welcome to the Wings universe.
To Coach Gleichman, though your name is also in the front of this book, I will confess back here that from the very first book, I always intended to dedicate this one to you. You taught me so much that has moulded me into the person I am today: the importance of finishing strong, how to ‘flip the switch,’ and how to pronounce fartlek without snickering. But mostly you taught me how to make myself do hard things. And believe you me, this series was a hard thing! I wouldn’t have had the discipline to finish if you hadn’t taught me how to push myself further than I thought I could. Thank you, Coach.
Kenny – words cannot describe. Ever. You are my rock, and more than that, you rock my world! Audrey, Brennan, Gideon, and Gwendolyn, you are my greatest achievements. My family and family-in-law: I could not ask for better cheerleaders.
Thank you!
Copyright
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Children’s Books in 2012
HarperCollins Children’s Books is a division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd,
77-85 Fulham Palace Road, Hammersmith, London, W6 8JB
The HarperCollins website address is: www.harpercollins.co.uk
1
Copyright © Aprilynne Pike 2012
ISBN 978-0-00-731439-3
Aprilynne Pike asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of the work.
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 hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
EPub Edition © MAY 2012 ISBN: 9780007463787
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Aprilynne Pike, Destined
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