Page 17 of Disenchanted

Worrying about her sister meant that Sage had momentarily forgotten about the book delivery. “We really should have catalogued that before we left…” She chewed at the inside of her cheek.

Casimir ignored her. “How about you, Laur? What have you been up to?”

“Staring into the void and calling it work. Questioning all of my life choices.”

“Is that all?” Sage asked dryly.

Laurel gave a sheepish grin. She had been struggling to write the perfect sequel ever since her successful debut and was under growing pressure to deliver it. She really did thrive on chaos. Sage was all too familiar with the hell that was a written deadline, the constant state of drowning that her most intense years of study had felt like. She wasn’t entirely sure why it hadn’t been enough to put her off academia forever, yet here she was, unable to leave it all behind. She supposed that meant enough in itself.

“You know I’m here if you need help. I can make time.” She wasn’t entirely sure that she could, but she would always do it anyway for her siblings. “I could proofread everything you have so far?”

Laurel took a swig of her beer and gave a half-smile of appreciation. “It’s really not a big deal, Sagey. Calm down.”

“Do you ever contemplate the fact that we’ve all been given one precious existence in this lifetime to live life to the fullest and explore all realms of possibility,” Robin said, “yet all four of us have decided to spend so much of it between the pages of books that can’t return our love, keep us company or talk back?”

“Oh, but we know they do talk back,” Sage said wryly with a pointing finger. “And they do keep us company. In their own weird and wonderful ways.”

“Mum and Dad’s fault,” Robin added tenderly.

Sage, Laurel and Robin exchanged warm, fond looks of understanding.

Casimir leaned in with a finger. “Speak for yourselves, spending your evenings chatting to books. Don’t tangle me up in the Hemlock family’s strangeness.”

“I’m afraid you relinquished the chance to escape that tangle the day you met Sagey.” Laurel grinned. “You’re one of us, whether you like it or not.”

Casimir leaned his head back on the top of the booth with a sigh. “A cruel twist of fate.” He uncrossed his limbs and reached over for a crisp from the packets split between them.

“Oh, Cas! For all the stars…” Robin’s drink toppled over entirely this time.

Three seconds later, the soggy crisps floating on top of the pool of beer had transfigured into a selection of miniature yellow rubber ducks under a rain of unexpected burgundy sparks. Sage gave a shudder as her magic sputtered from the unplanned spell. She shook out her hand with a wince and the four of them shared an awkward pause.

“Well, thank you for that,” Robin muttered, glancing around the pub. “This evening was far too calm and quiet for my liking. It was missing some torches and pitchforks, if you ask me.”

She felt furious with herself. “Not again! Is everyone okay? Laur, it didn’t hit you, did it? Rob, did it catch your sleeve? I’m so sorry, it’s the run-up to Halloween, it gets so…”

“They’re so cute! Sage, I love them. Thank you,” Laurel said, beaming as she picked out a few of the ducks and popped them in her frilly dress pocket.

Sage threw her head onto her folded forearms on the table, letting out a frustrated sound like a dying animal. Her initial panic blended into dismay, and she roared into her arms. “It’s absolutely uncontrollable this week, and I can’t figure out what I’ve done to anger it. I’m trying my bloody best, but it’s…”

“I believe the proper scientific term would be, it’s kicking her arse,” Casimir finished for her.

“Sage, you told us you had things back under control!” Laurel said, her voice rising an octave higher in a way that reminded Sage so much of their mother that she felt herself wince.

“Oh, shut up, will you? I do, I always do. Of course I do.” It came out snappier than she’d intended. She prickled even more sharply when Robin and Laurel darted a look between each other and Robin mouthed, “Yikes…”

Three of them proceeded to take a silent sip of their drinks, Robin spinning his empty glass on the spot.

“She doesn’t,” Cas said.

Sage promptly elbowed him.

“What is up with you? No need to be such a cow,” Laurel said in the blunt way that only a younger sister can.

“Nothing, nothing,” Sage said with a flap of her hand and a sigh. “Sorry. There’s just a lot riding on this month, that’s all. I can’t afford any slip-ups or mistakes.”

“It’s going to be great, Sage,” Laurel said, softening. “It sounds incredible, everything you’ve worked so hard for. I can’t wait to come and see it.”

What Laurel didn’t realize was that the success of the exhibition was rapidly becoming the least of Sage’s concerns.