Chapter Thirty-Seven Epilogue

Two Years Later…

Stephanie

“We worked so damned hard for this.” I survey the building, awed by how much we’ve changed the theater where we conducted band tryouts here in the Zone, what feels like decades ago. It’s been restored to its original glory, updated, yet we’ve kept the grandeur of the original building intact.

“I’m still in awe of how a thousand things can go so wrong, and the outcome can be…” He’s searching for the appropriate word, the way my eloquent husband does sometimes when he’s feeling powerful emotions. “Can be perfect.”

He’s correct about how a thousand things can go wrong. This project fits Murphy’s First Law: anything that can go wrong will go wrong. And yeah, Murphy’s Third Law too: everything takes longer than you think it will.

We embraced this idea shortly after we returned from Ysaria, and it felt so right we had to follow our dream.

“We were idiots,” I say as I recall our decision. What’s crazier than a huge remodeling project? How about two of them? In addition to using tour profits for theater renovations, we chose to make the inside of our home reflect its exterior.

I’ll never forget how charming the cottagecore exterior of his home looked when I first pulled up to it, and how the interior was nothing like I expected because it was filled with leather couches and brass and glass tables. Ugh. Alfie admits he never liked it.

“Blame the designer I hired,” he’d said. “It’ll be a relief to get something we’ll both like. A place where we can feel cozy and relaxed.”

Now our home reflects both of us, with homey touches and comfortable furniture that will be perfect for our growing family.

We’re standing backstage, ready for Labyrinth’s inaugural performance. Although ninety-nine percent of the world still calls them Others, they like to be called Allies. This is why we’ve named the place Harmony Hall.

It’s a gem, here in the middle of what is still a run-down fenced-in blighted area. The velvet crimson curtains hang with pride behind the stage apron. The dome has been renovated by a handsome naga named Orion. He spent months on scaffolding restoring the ceiling mural of Atlas carrying the world on his shoulders.

The chairs have been “Other-sized.” Which is great for the Others, although I feel like a child when I sit in them, my legs dangling over the edge as though I’m still in grade school.

Since Labyrinth money paid for the renovation, it’s only fitting that they’re the first to perform in the sumptuous venue. And, other than at the Grammys, this will be the first time they’ll be introduced as the winners of the Best Global Music Album award.

We all got a kick out of their choice of category for Labyrinth. With a grin, Kam said, “Shouldn’t they have named our award the Best Out of this World award?” They may have gotten a good laugh out of that, but the group was thrilled to win. Seeing them all up on that stage as they accepted the award made my chest so full, I thought it would explode.

All the band is here in Harmony Hall now, as is Theo, who is, after all, Labyrinth’s chief financial officer. Zoey’s here too.

Funny, she’s pregnant again and due on the same day as me. I’m sure she and I will do fine. It’s the guys I worry about. If Zoey and I happen to pop at the same time, who will be there to support our husbands? Well, I shouldn’t worry. It’ll all work out fine.

It’s been a whirlwind since Alfie and I got back together. After we returned from Ysaria, we jumped into our relationship with both feet. I met his folks the next time they returned from their world travels, and my parents are regular visitors to our house for barbecues. Though ever since they accidentally saw us naked in the backyard, they always ring the bell and wait outside instead of letting themselves in.

We waited over a year to get pregnant, wanting to enjoy our time as a couple before we added a third happy camper to the mix.

“I wasn’t sure this day would ever come,” Alfie says, pointing to the ceiling, which almost caved in during the renovation.

“But look what it did for the Zone. We used an Ally contractor who hired exclusively Ally staff. The snack bar features Ally-produced food. The venue will be open to the general public, infusing more money into Ally pockets. It’s all good.”

“Speaking of pockets…” Alfie bends his knees to be at the right height to bump my shoulder with his, “aren’t you glad National No Pants Day was yesterday?” He waggles his eyes at me.

“Ugh. Your jokes are getting as bad as Kam’s terrible jokes.”

“Don’t blame me. It’s as real as Bubble Wrap Appreciation Day and frankly sounds more fun.”

As I’m groaning, Bechtel approaches, a smile across his happy face. “You ready, chief?”

The entire Zone has been buzzing for weeks about the grand opening, but Bechtel is perhaps the happiest of all, as he feels somewhat responsible for how things worked out. “We need our world-renowned khu’rinn player, right? And of course, we’ll get a standing O. Remember the words to ‘Wandering Minotaur’?” he teases.

“You bet he does. The words are calligraphed across a pretty painting of our backyard. The picture hangs over our headboard.” Of course, Bechtel knows this. I was so proud of it, I emailed a picture of it to every member of the band the moment it was hung.

“The audience needs their khu’rinn player,” Alfie says as he bends to kiss my lips, then pats my little baby bump.

“We’ve run the gauntlet for this,” I say with a smile.

“You might even say we’ve traversed the labyrinth,” he replies.

“But we got here, didn’t we love?”

“If by here you mean madly in love, blissfully happy, creating a family, and making the world a better place? I think you’re right.”

“Madly in love would have been enough, Alfie, but we’ve got it all, don’t we?”

“We’ve got it all, love.”