The universe, demonstrating its legendary sense of timing, chose that exact moment for the sky to open up in a torrential downpour that had clearly been brewing unnoticed during all the supernatural drama.
Within seconds, everyone who'd been standing outside was thoroughly soaked.
The delegation scattered toward their vehicles with shouted goodbyes, Dorothy calling back something about the meeting schedule that was lost in the drumming rain.
Luna simply vanished in her typical fashion, presumably back to The Black Swan. Even Morgana retreated to her wing with a dramatic sigh about ruined silk.
Which left the four mates standing on their porch, dripping wet and alone together for the first time in what felt like weeks.
"Well," Marcus said, wringing water from his shirt with the kind of dignity only centuries of practice could provide, "that was eventful."
