“This is it,” Harlow whispers, stunned.
“It’s like her trophy room. How are we going to find our jar?”
“Do we just break them all? And see what happens? Will they just return to their owners?” Harlow asks, drawing closer to a jar in front of us, watching the silver, sparkly mist float inside.
“Let’s try one?” I ask.
She grabs the glass and drops it on the ground, shattering it. The silver mist floats up, then glides out of the room.
“That was anti-climactic.”
Hope filling me, I look at Emmett for guidance. I know what I want to do, but I need him to tell me I’m wrong.
“It would take us months to go through these jars,” he intones.
I nod, but don’t speak.
“Do you want to break them all?” he asks.
“It makes sense, right?” I ask, looking at Harlow.
“I think so.” There’s a twinkle of hope in her eyes.
We all nod in agreement, then just stand there.
Seconds turn to minutes.
Awkward silence.
I don’t do well with awkward silence.
“Fuck it.” Seems to be our motto. I swipe my arm across the shelf closest to me and watch the bottles burst on the ground. The silver mists float up, then float out of the room.
“Ok then,” Emmett says, stepping forward.
Harlow grabs our shoulders and stops us. “Get behind me. I’ve got this.”
She steps into a forward stance, hands by her waist. “You may want to turn around and cover your ears.”
Cautiously, we do as suggested, and a moment later, a sonic scream pierces the air behind us just before thousands of jars burst apart and fall to the ground.
We turn around and see thousands of sparkly silver orbs float into the air and, as if almost commanded, they fly past us out of the room with such force that it knocks us onto our ass. We lie there, completely in awe, as the orbs fly overhead looking like shooting stars in the night sky. I don’t know how long it takes- ten minutes, twenty minutes, an hour, before they’ve all passed. We stand up and look around.
“Maybe all of them at the same time wasn’t the best idea.” I chuckle and we all burst into full belly laughs.
“Well, do we feel different? Did it work?” Harlow asks.
“I’m scared to find out. If it didn’t, then I don’t know what else to do,” I say, worry tearing a hole through my stomach.
“Should we rock, paper, scissors for it?” Emmett asks.
“I’ll do it,” Harlow says, stepping up. Her face twists. “A little fair warning. She took my demon, so…”
“Demon. Cool… cool, cool, cool.”
She smiles, “I won’t hurt you, as long as you don’t try to hurt me.”
“Yea. Deal. Don’t hurt the Harpy.”
