The elemental energy, the quicksilver brightness, was gone from Julian's figure. Jenny was still holding his hand, but it suddenly seemed less substantial. She held tighter-and her fingers met.
Julian's body was dissolving into mist and shadows. In a moment even those had disappeared.
Just like that. Like smoke up a chimney.
Jenny sat back on her heels.
Then, slowly at first, but more quickly with each step, her friends gathered around her. Jenny felt Tom's arms, and felt that he was shaking.
She buried her head in his shoulder and held him as he held her.
It was Audrey and Michael who were the most helpful in what had to be done next. There were a lot of practical things to be handled.
Here in Pennsylvania the sun was just rising, and home in California it was 3:00 in the morning. Audrey and Michael went next door and woke the neighbors up and asked if they could use a phone.
Then Audrey called her parents and woke them up, and asked if they could please wire some money. And Michael called his father and woke him up, and asked him to explain to everybody else's parents that all the kids were safe.
That was something for Jenny to hang on to, once Audrey and Michael had reported back. The thought that Michael's father would be calling Mr. and Mrs. Parker-Pearson and telling them Summer was coming home. Michael's father was a writer and slightly odd, but an adult, and therefore somewhat credible. Maybe they would even believe him.
Jenny really couldn't wait to see Summer's little brother's face.
And she wanted to see her parents, too, and her own little brother.
There were other things. Angela, P.C.'s almost-girlfriend, who would have to be told that P.C. was really and truly dead. And there would be the police to deal with again, and impossible questions to answer.
But she couldn't think about all that now. She was still thinking about Julian.
Nothing died if it wasn't forgotten-and she would never forget him. There would always be some part of him in her mind. Because of him, all her life she'd be more sensitive to the beauty of the world. To its-sensuality and immediacy. Julian had been a very immediate person.
The most extraordinary person she would ever meet, Jenny thought. Whimsical, quixotic, wild-impossible.
He had been so many things. Seductive as silver and deadly as a cobra. And vulnerable like a hurt child underneath it all.
Like a hurt child who could strike out with lethal accuracy, Jenny thought as she watched Audrey moving slowly around the living room, tidying things. He'd hurt Audrey badly, and if he hadn't quite killed Summer, it had been close. He'd let his Shadow Animals kill Gordie Wilson, who'd only been guilty of skipping school and killing rabbits.
The truth was that Julian had probably been too dangerous to live. The universe would be a much safer place without him.
But poorer. And more boring, definitely more boring.
It was Summer who said the astonishing thing.
"You know," she said, after twisting around on the living room couch to see if the cab was coming, "Julian said the world was evil and horrible-remember? But then he proved himself that it wasn't."
Jenny came out of her own thoughts and looked at Summer, amazed. That was it, exactly, of course. And that was why she could go on living, and even look forward to things. In a universe where that could happen, you had to go on living and hoping and doing your best. In a universe where that could happen, anything was possible.
That was Julian's real gift, she thought.
But there was another one, too, and she saw it as she looked at the others. They had all changed-Julian had changed them. Like the rune Dagaz, the catalyst, he'd transformed everyone who met him.
Audrey and Michael-look at them. They were walking around holding hands. Audrey hadn't even bothered to put her hair up. Michael was patting her shoulder protectively.
And Dee and Audrey had been enemies a month ago. After tonight, Jenny didn't think they could ever be that way again.
Zach, now-Zach was looking at Summer with puzzled interest in his keen gray eyes. Like a scientist who finds himself unexpectedly fascinated by a new form of flower.
Won't last a week, Jenny thought. But it was good for Zach to notice girls, just the same. To have a human interest, something besides his own imagination and his photographs.
Julian had taught Zach that imagination wasn't always better than reality.
Summer is different, too, Jenny thought. She's not half as muddled as she used to be. That's why Zach's staring.
Now, Dee...
Jenny turned to look at her friend.
Dee was sitting instead of pacing, with one long leg stretched in front of her. She was looking very thoughtful, her head bent, her thickly lashed eyes narrowed.