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She pumped her shoulders, the universal
dunno
signal.

“And Penny?” I asked.

She gave me the same response with a slight widening of her eyes. It seemed to indicate concern. Looking around, there were more than a few unoccupied seats. Word was that counselors were available to everyone who had been huddled down in Pinewood’s shelter. Or anyone else who had PTSD. Ironic that it had been a term Marik had to learn for that first school-board meeting. Maybe Penny was having a harder time dealing with Friday’s events than she’d let on. It couldn’t be easy for her to be so close to all the weirdness I’d brought to Norse Falls, except without my, Jack’s, Marik’s, or even Jinky’s, for that matter, unique perspective on it all. It had to be like living next to a graveyard and wondering at so many passersby in period attire.

Ms. Bryant took the first half of class to discuss the events of Friday. A lot of kids wanted to talk about the experience, and others had questions about the rumors of an accelerated merger. As always, Ms. Bryant was cool and collected. Though not at all like my earthy mom, she, nonetheless, had a maturity that complemented my dad’s personality. His heroics during the crisis showed a side of him that I had always known was there, but it was nice to think that others — Ms. Bryant and my mom, even — would see a depth in him, too, now. Perhaps not an old soul, but one who was growing. No doubt he’d always be the first to run for the ice-cream truck, but he’d save you a place in line, and probably buy.

Just as Ms. Bryant segued to the topic of our top-notch projects at Friday’s show, there was a commotion at the door, through which entered none other than Penny and Marik, looking rosy, robust, and almost obscenely goo-goo eyed. I nearly smacked my chin on the desk, my mouth fell open so quickly.

Ms. Bryant seemed to be unsettled, too. As Marik — looking as he had the first day of school with his easygoing smile, burly frame, and vitality — passed by her desk, she covered her mouth in an attempt to hide her surprise. She undoubtedly picked up on what I was sensing as well. Marik was better. Marik was different.

For the rest of the period, I had a hard time concentrating. Luckily, Ms. Bryant’s similarly distracted state kept her from delving into anything that was testworthy material.

The moment the bell rang, I was on Penny like a bug on a windshield. I blocked her path to the door.

“What’s up?” Penny asked, cocking her head to the side, cool and coy as a da Vinci girl.

My suspicions, for one. And my heart rate, for another. I perched on a nearby desktop, saying, “Oh, you know, a bird, a plane, Superman.”

With the last of my “up” items, I gestured with my head to Marik, who had come to stand beside Penny. His recovery was miraculous; his eyes were bright and fiery, his cheeks plump, and even his shaggy hair had spring to it.

“You’re looking better, Marik,” I said. “Was it the flu, after all?”

After the ceiling incident in Afi’s back room, Penny’s head had been an itchy mess, but Jinky had been fine. Shortly thereafter, Ofelia got the call.

“A mild case,” Penny answered for him.

Penny had worn a hat to Jack’s yesterday. She never wore hats. I was the hat girl, particularly if it was the day after a meeting-signaling scalp rash. I remembered how nasty the affliction was those first few times.
But Penny? Could she really be . . . ?
But what other explanation was there?
Penny, a Stork!
Why hadn’t I seen it coming? How had she even known that Marik needed a soul? And how had she accomplished so much in so little time? It indicated a power exceeding my own, one that surely confirmed her rightful inheritance of the Bleika Norn’s cameo. I also thought of Jinky’s rune reading. Penny had chosen Othala, the stone of ancestral property, which could represent both a physical and a spiritual inheritance. No surprise that it was right on both scores. And once again, Hulda’s words — that they awaited a harbinger of change — proved prophetic. Why wouldn’t Penny be a Stork?
That
Stork, moreover. Her birthright was as legitimate as mine.
Birds of a feathe
r . . . , I couldn’t help thinking.

“Glad to hear you’re feeling better, Marik,” I said, starting for the exit with drunken steps. By then, Jinky had joined us.

“Penelopa came over with an herbal remedy,” Marik said, following me through the doorway.

His use of Penny’s full name did not elude me. Penelopa scrambled to
one apple,
which I had known all along but had never interpreted as Penny’s rightful role in it all, her connection to the Pink Lady cameo, her ties to the life-giving symbol, and her magical destiny.

“It was something my
amma
mixed up for him, some kind of herbal infusion,” Penny said. “Like I told you, she’s good with home remedies. Maybe some of them learned from the Bleika Norn.”

So this was how it would have to be. An understanding between us that would be danced around and batted back and forth but would never be put into words. The four of us walked as a group toward our bank of lockers.

“That’s cool,” I said.

“Maybe the whole concept of a metaphysical shop here in Norse Falls isn’t such a bad idea, after all,” Penny said.

“Finally she admits it.” Jinky lifted her chin in a small display of pride.

“It’s better than a hat store, anyway,” I said.

“I don’t know,” Penny said. “I think you single-handedly brought them back into style, around here, anyway. I’m thinking of getting a beret.”

“What color?” I asked.

“Something in the gray family,” Penny said, “not dark, more of a —”

“Dove gray?”

“Yes.” Penny’s eyes sparked.

Naturally, she’d be the bird of peace. And I got it in one guess. My father’s daughter or what?

Having left my grams, my dad, and Sage — the term of address I now called my dad’s steady girlfriend — back at Gram’s condo slaving over the holiday meal, Jack and I slipped out for a little alone time. We stood in the sand gaping at the vast Pacific. It was oddly comforting to feel insignificant in the face of such power. We were just two kids on vacation at the beach. Never mind that Jack, due to his Winter People ancestry, had never been to the ocean. Never mind that I had Stork and selkie lineage. Never mind that we both knew firsthand of a few of life’s marvels and mysteries.

“So what do you think?” I asked.

“It’s incredible.”

I grabbed his hand. “And are you ready for a swim?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

“Not scared?”

“No.” He shook his head. “In keeping with the occasion, I’m thankful.”

Thankful,
indeed an appropriate theme for Thanksgiving Day. This year I felt the spirit of the holiday intensely. I was humbled by the wonder and precariousness of life and just plain old grateful to be alive. I knew that I hadn’t, in any way, single-handedly prevented Ragnarök. Everything and everyone in my circle of love — corny as that sounded — had played a role. The now-pregnant-with-twins Jaelle and her hopes for a child. My mom and Stanley’s new relationship, which led to Leira. The ancestry I inherited from Afi and Amma. Hulda’s invaluable wisdom and guidance. Jinky’s shaman skills. Marik’s zest for life. Penny’s friendship and transformation. Old Grim and even Dorit coming around. The influence Sage had on my hero dad’s young soul. And Jack, of course. No longer my superpower sidekick, no longer connected with me on a telekinetically charged level, but we had each other’s back. We had each other, period.

“Do you think you could get used to it — you know, live here?”

He rolled his shoulders forward. “I don’t know.”

It was noncommittal
and
the correct answer. I still dreamed of a career in fashion. New York and LA were the two U.S. epicenters of the industry, but I also knew that Jack’s spirit thrived when surrounded by nature. Anyway, those kinds of decisions seemed far off and trivial in the face of land, sky, and sea melding before us.

“Come on,” I yelled, yanking on his arm.

We ran full out and barreled straight into the frigid ocean. When the water was thigh-high, I jumped on Jack’s bare back and wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. A breaker crashed over us with the force of a semi, sending us spiraling. With the wave’s retreat, I found myself on my hands and knees, with sand in my eyes and mouth, my hair plastered to my face, and gasping for air. I looked over to where Jack lay just a few feet away on his back. I crawled over to him, shaking his shoulder.

“Are you OK?” I asked.

One of his eyes opened slowly. The other soon joined it, and then a smile parted his lips. “Oh, yeah.”

I looked up to see another wave headed our way, a big one. When, moments later, we were still hanging on to each other, and laughing, even, I took it as an omen: stronger together with or without our powers. Stronger. Together.

S
TORK
WENDY DELSOL

Hardcover ISBN 978-0-7636-4844-2
Paperback ISBN 978-0-7636-5687-4
Also available as an e-book and in audio

F
ROST
WENDY DELSOL

Hardcover ISBN 978-0-7636-5386-6
Paperback ISBN 978-0-7636-6249-3
Also available as an e-book and in audio

www.candlewick.com