Page 66 of Disenchanted

Maggie smiled. “Madam is not usually one for frippery, that’s all. Never seen you wear so much as a brooch in all our years together, Sage, and I couldn’t help but wonder where you might have found it after all this time.”

Sage and Casimir exchanged a wide-eyed glance. “You’ve seen this before?” Casimir asked, voice full of confusion.

“Not only that, but you remember it?” Sage rushed the question out, shaking the bracelet towards her housekeeper. “You mean to say this chain is a clear memory for you?”

“Indeed, the moment my eyes beheld it. A veritable joy to see it again, different though it is. I recognized the distinctive style all the same.” Maggie nodded keenly. “It brought back a few faint, fond memories of happy times. With Lily.”

28

Your Dear Friend

Cups of tea had in fact never been more necessary.

It was Casimir who made them, while Sage slumped back on the sofa in a state of shock, Mal licking her hand in an attempt to coax her back while Maggie rushed upstairs to fetch a cold flannel. The revelation that her housekeeper had been best friends with Lilara Mournfell before both of their demises was a little too much to handle, the cherry on top of an already rather chaotic, overflowing cauldron.

“I can’t believe it. All this time,” Sage remarked to no one in particular. Glasses catching orange reflections from the fireplace, her eyes were unable to focus on anything other than the blur of the flames.

The moment Maggie had revealed herself to be the key, Casimir had bellowed and made them all, including the cat, who skittered behind the curtains, jump out of their skins. He pointed to the chain around Sage’s wrist, which quickly revealed the next transformed charm before they had even caught their breath after the last. This time, the smallest silver spinning wheel.

“Oh, Sage, I am truly, truly sorry for it,” Maggie said for the millionth time, dabbing at Sage’s forehead gently. “Had I known the importance…My memories are quite muddled, even under the best of circumstances, but pray, forgive me. A hundred or so years will have such consequences for a girl.”

“ ’Tis no fault of your own, my lady Maggs,” Casimir said, taking a seat and placing a reassuring hand on Sage’s thigh. It was normally the sort of contact that would send her into a spin, leaving the burning imprint of him on her leg for hours afterwards, but there wasn’t any room left in her mind to give it the slightest question mark.

Besides, it felt nice.

“He’s right,” she said to Maggie, shaking her head. “Of course it’s not your fault. If I’d been open with you sooner, maybe even asked for your help, we would have made this discovery days ago.”

“So, where do we go from here?” Casimir asked.

For once, Sage had no answer for that. She leaned towards her friend. “You can help me understand, Maggs. You can help me to finally see what it is that Lilara has been trying to show me. You knew her as she truly was. You’re the key.” She might as well be frank. Now was not the time to suddenly pretend that she was a particularly polite or reserved person.

“I’m not sure I can, Treasure. All I possess are the faintest moments, the merest flickers of recollection. Lily is etched upon my heart like all the best of friends are. I know that she was a good friend for a long while.”

Maggie reached over to Sage to take the hand that wore the bracelet and held it between her own chilled hands. Brushing a gentle finger along the chain, something in her seemed to stir at the contact. The ghost frowned. “But I recall that…Well…”

“What?” Sage was desperate for Maggie’s memories. “What is it?”

“I seem to recall that she changed,” Maggie replied quietly, a cautious expression forming under scrutiny, as she tried to keep up with the lace of delicate memories. “Yes, that’s right. Before she fled the town, Lily changed. I scarcely recognized her as the girl I’d been so close with since our youth. We…” Maggie stopped herself, confused by all that was coming into focus.

“We were girls together, Lily and I, the most unlikely friends in many respects. My family, residing in this very abode, were under the employ of the Mournfells, whose manor sat beyond the town. My mother served as something of a nanny to their only daughter, and I, although a mere slip of a girl, accompanied her to start work myself. One day, Miss Lily ventured into the kitchens to say hello—she would be chastised for it time and time again, for mixing with the servants. It was a kindness that was part of her nature, unconcerned by social standings or rank. She was a blur of pink, so much pink satin, which I always coveted, and shiny black hair,” Maggie said vaguely, with a soft laugh as she remembered. “Lily was a veritable whirlwind and ever merry. A romantic heart that believed in happily-ever-afters. Immediately, she declared us kindred spirits upon first meeting, like strange sisters, and thus we grew together. But then…”

“Yes?” Sage hung on every word, personal information she had never managed to find about her hero. “Anything, Maggs, anything at all.”

“She shared her magic.” Maggie was talking so hesitantly, as though she didn’t even quite trust the words that were coming from her mouth. A mere touch of the chain had extracted them from her. “Yes, she told him…” Maggie shook her head, faltering, but then changed her mind again into a nod. “And she showed him the truth of her magic.”

Sage’s eyes widened. “Lilara did? Lily, I mean. Lily shared her witchery?”

“As I do recall…”

“But that can’t be. All she ever wanted to do was be rid of it so that her beloved town could be safe. She never wanted to share or celebrate it with anybody.” Sage said the word “celebrate” like it was forbidden.

“Perhaps my mind plays tricks, but her parents…they were indeed fearful of her magic the moment it revealed itself. They were concerned by its dangers, how people might respond to a witch in the lineage of the famous founders’ family. Their reputation could not be risked, and their fears only grew when other witches made contact to try to welcome her into their fold. But Lily maintained that it was good and valuable to the future of the town, if they insisted that she was to take leadership. She never did win her mother and father over, but she was certain still that her love would see its beauty as she did.”

“No.” Sage shook her head adamantly. “It’s written in every resource, every record of her life, that she rejected it immediately, wanted no part in magic. She refused to risk the town’s safety. Maybe you’re mistaken.”

“No, I’m sure of it.” Maggie, finally, seemed certain. “Lily fell in love.”

Sage slumped back against the couch again.