the Darkest Edge Of Dawn (2010) (37 page)

He looked at me like I'd lost it. "I like the hair, by the way."

I smiled. "Thanks."

That evening, I sat on my kid's bed and told her the entire story of what really happened on the tower--everything
except
the fact that a First One was lying beneath Clara Meer Lake. She laughed. She gasped. She cried. She hugged Brim and begged me to take her to the Grove so she could see Pen, the Druid King, transform into a dragon--which I considered doing just for the fact that shifting for the amusement of a child would really annoy him.

We talked for hours.

And then something extraordinary happened. She started talking to me, telling me about
her
feelings, her thoughts, her hopes and dreams, things she'd kept from me or didn't think I'd want to hear.

I listened.

And it made all the difference, sharing with my kid.

She'd begun a journal the day Brim came home, which she called
Hellhounds Rule, Parents Drool.
She'd been writing in it ever since. After showing it to me and letting me flip through a few pages, I realized my kid had a knack for the written word, a beautiful way of expressing herself and looking at the world.

Amazed by her and the individual she was becoming, I kissed her, leaving her lying on her bed with the journal open, Brim curled up on the rug.

I went downstairs to the sounds of Rex cooking dinner, and out onto the porch, making my way barefoot into the cold, dry grass in the front yard. I shoved my hands into my pants pockets and stared at the thick, churning darkness overhead, knowing that somewhere beyond was a sky filled with the last light of day, a beautiful rainbow-colored sky painted on a canvas of blue.

I bit softly on the inside of my cheek, eyeing the great expanse of gray as conviction and inevitability settled deep into my bones.

Despite Grigori Tennin, despite the hardships to come with my sister and the other
ash
survivors, despite whatever the hell happened between me and Hank, and the complications sure to arise with bringing Will back, I'd do this one thing. One day. Soon.

I'd bring back the light.

Acknowledgments

For expertly guiding me through the trials and tribulations of the second-book "experience," for believing in me and bolstering my confidence when I needed it most,
enormous
gratitude goes to my editor, Ed Schlesinger.

For the most amazing cover art on the planet, Chris McGrath. I bow down to your insane talent.

For being two of the most coolest and helpful women in the biz, Erica Feldon and Miriam Kriss, publicist and agent extraordinaires.

For eating all those microwave meals and dealing with one seriously distracted mind, eternal thanks and love to Audrey, James, and Jonathan.

Because I didn't last time, shout-outs to Dylan, Ryan, and Isabel Long. I miss you guys. When are you going to move closer to me?

For reading like the wind, Kameryn Long and Jenna Black. Thanks for the last-minute critiques and assurances. And for Vicki Pettersson, Lilith Saintcrow, and Jackie Kessler--thank you doesn't sound adequate for the help you gave me. You ladies are awesome.

And finally for all my family, friends, followers, and readers who gave Charlie Madigan a chance. Thank you so much for your time, your emails, and for spreading the word. You have made this journey incredible, and I am humbly in your debt.