Sudden movement catches my eye, and I freeze. My gaze fixes on a massive raven perched atop a twisted branch stretching over the water like a bridge above us. Its beady red eyes stab into me. My heart thunders, and my chest locks, making it hard to breathe. Is this one of Sabine’s familiars? Has she found us? “Malcolm!” I hiss, pointing at the massive black wings of the raven.
His face turns chalky brown when he sees the bird. The veins stand out on his arm muscles like rope as he rows, faster and faster. “Don’t worry,” he tells me, but his grip on the oars tightens until his knuckles look white. He knows that bird’s a bad omen, a sign that the witch is watching.
Malcolm steers us far away. He must sense how jittery and anxious I am, because he says, “It’s okay. I got you.” Fear has made his voice unsteady, and I realize that no matter how much we want to be free, we are not yet safe from the clutches of Sabine and her wicked game.
Malcolm takes a deep breath, his trembling hand reaching for mine. Uncertainty flickers in his eyes before he forces a smile. “Told you. I got you. I’ll do whatever’s necessary to try to keep you safe, Star.”
My heart swells. His desire to protect me after my family made me a punching bag makes my feelings for him run so much deeper. “Thanks,” I say.
The gondola slips along the serene water as Malcolm guides it with ease, his silhouette outlined by the glow of a silver moon. We pass a cluster of lily pads that holds croaking frogs.
“We’re here.” His voice is so soft I barely hear it over the lapping of the water against our boat. He parks the gondola, helping me up after securing the boat.
“Where?” I ask, looking around under stars that seem close enough to touch. I’m still nervous about the raven, but we’ve left it behind, so I try to let myself enjoy the time we have left. Save the stress for tomorrow.
“Right here, beautiful.” He smiles and extends his arm, pointing towardthe bank where a row of skinny candles flicker on towering gold holders. They stand beside Imani like a city skyline, making dancing shadows across her chestnut-brown face, black apron, and crisp white dress. Her hair is half black and half white as it slinks down her back in a low ponytail that matches her outfit and accentuates the joy on her pretty face.
“Welcome,” Imani says, gesturing with a hand. As she does, a beautifully decorated table, adorned with elegant silverware and long-stemmed crystal glasses that glitter like starlight, appears next to her. Pink bubbly fills the glasses, accompanied by juicy strawberry slices. The setting could belong in a royal banquet hall, but it’s here, on the edge of the glistening lake, making me feel like a princess.
“Wow. You outdid yourselves,” I gasp, stepping forward, the hem of my dress whispering against the grass.
“I want the best for you, Star,” Malcolm replies. I run my fingers along the white cloth, looking at the two plates that await the culinary wonders Imani has prepared.
“Thank you for this, for all of it.” I look at Malcolm, feeling an emotion I can’t quite name swelling in my chest. But it makes me want to hug him, feel his warm body close to mine. I look at Imani and ask, “Why’d you help him with this?”
Her dark lipstick looks flawless as she says, “My brother loves you. Like it or not, that makes you family.”
I beam.
Imani smirks. “If you knew how dysfunctional we are, you might not smile about that.” She laughs. “But seriously, I haven’t seen Malcolm this happy since before Dad and Alex died. I’m a sucker for love. And Black-boy joy. So I’ll do whatever I can to help my brother hold on to his.”
“Thank you.”
“Of course.”
“Will we be drinking fortune-telling tea again?”
“No need,” she says as we take our seats. “I warned Malcolm that you could lead to rivers of blood. And that rockhead had the nerve to say he’s a good swimmer. Since he won’t heed warnings, I figured I should at least do what I can to protect him. I’ve seen countless paths for you both, countlessconflicting possible futures, all leading to a headstone for one or both of you. But there is one fragile chance… one possible future in which love wins. And he’s so determined to make that happen that he made me determined too.”
“How? Tell me,” I plead.
“Sorry.” Her fingers smooth her sleek black-and-white ponytail. She looks down, her lips forming a soft pout beneath her dark lipstick, her expression shadowed with sadness. “Your knowledge could change the future. That possibility might stop existing.”
A wave of grief splashes over me, my worry drowning me, but I’m also grateful for Imani’s support. The moon paints a ghostly silver path across the water in front of us. Malcolm and I sit beneath a canopy of weeping willow trees and twisted branches at our lakeside table. The gentle tick of cicadas is the only sound we hear for a moment.
“It’s a beautiful night,” Imani says. “Don’t let fear for the future rob you of the present. Enjoy this moment.”
Low tree branches sway in the warm breeze. I close my eyes and inhale the scent of jasmine and magic that fills the air.
Imani loads our plates with candied yams, collard greens, bubbly golden-brown mac and cheese, and tiny Cornish hens.
“Thanks again,” I say. “Everything looks too pretty to eat!” But it smells so good, I can’t help myself from digging in. The flavors melt together like a symphony of delights in my mouth.
After dinner, she winces slightly and chants like the strain of the magic is painful. A cloud of red glitter twists into the shape of Malcolm’s guitar. It hovers in midair until he walks over and grabs it. As I sit at the table in front of a small gold plate, digging into banana pudding with a cloud of fluffy whipped cream on top, he plays for me. His fingers fly across the strings of his shimmering red guitar; bloodred smoke curls and twists from the instrument’s neck. As I sway to his beautiful song, swirling smoke puffs all around us. Sparkling gold music notes materialize, flashing and flickering like lightning bolts.
Malcolm sings me a love song that sends shivers down my spine in the best way. The fire in his eyes and the passion in his voice make happybutterflies glow inside me. He pours his heart and soul into his performance, the music notes coming from his guitar growing larger and brighter. They keep expanding, flickering, and glowing gold. And at the climax of his song, when his beautiful voice hits a high note that makes my knees weak and my body moist in secret places, the music notes float up and explode into the inky sky with a shower of metallic fireworks, their shimmery tails raining down in a dazzling display of melted gold above him.
“Wow!” I breathe. “You sure know how to take a girl’s mind off tragedy. I’m glad I came on this adventure with you.”
