Page 81 of Disenchanted

“This curse was supposed to horrify you! Show you these glittering temptations turned rotten!”

“And instead, all you’ve done is show me the very opposite.” Now Sage was the one laughing. “I see it now! How could I have been so stupid?” She kicked back the desk chair, flipping it so it skidded over the snow-covered floor. “Turning your back on magic, on joy itself, your truest self, is the very thing that has turned you bitter. That’s what’s made you wicked!”

Lilara screamed. “I was trying to protect you! To catch you before you could fall.”

“No. Maybe in the beginning, but no. You used to be a good person with good intentions, but it was you who turned. You couldn’t stand the idea that any other witch should ever live happily. You say that you saved me from heartbreak when my heartbreak was your fault. Your curse was the cause of the greatest loss of my life. There’s no excuse for what you did!”

Lilara looked poised to burst with rage. “Revenge needs no excuse!”

The lines around her form were blurring more by the moment, the solidness of her shape turning to a smoky fade at the edges. Sage’s refusal to agree with her ways was ripping her open. This was not the outcome the witch had anticipated.

“Revenge doesn’t see reason,” Sage said.

“There was good reason! Yours was a worthy sacrifice if it could bring an end to this hideous town and its long line of heartbroken women crushed by the hands of magic. It had to end!”

A twisted combination of both generosity and selfishness plagued Lilara’s mind, clouding all sense of reason and clarity. A part of Sage wanted to rain her own revenge down upon this woman in return. Who was she to have directed her life down such a difficult course, to have impacted her with such venom and trouble only to feel comforted and less alone in her own sadness? There was no valid excuse for such gnarled, deep-set bitterness.

But if she were to hit back, Sage would be following in Lilara’s footsteps even further. She had already wasted too many years trying to follow her. She did not want a legacy like that.

“I’m sorry, Lilara, that I couldn’t comfort you in the way that you needed me to,” Sage said firmly. “Bitterness begets bitterness, shared sorrow, Schadenfreude…I know them better than most.”

Lilara’s outline plumed. The same dark mist that had built the labyrinth, tendrils of dark vapour curling out in wisps, undulating, levitating her from the ground. The trail of her cloak was beginning to fade into the air. “I cursed you and everyone in this damned town to give them a taste of their own medicine!” Lilara was shouting between sobs. “To echo how they made me feel, when they turned their backs on me. Left me alone with a broken heart!”

Lilara levitated higher still, the mist consuming more and more of her form into the darkness. “This villainous magic! Turn your back! Be my dear friend! Come back with me between the pages, to the confines of the book, before it is too late in your story! We are wicked!” she screamed.

“I have made mistakes, plenty of them,” Sage said, her voice steady. She felt effervescent, perfectly grounded and trusting. “But I am no wicked witch.”

It felt like the first laugh after grief. Like a baffled smile from an exhausted new mother. Like noticing a rainbow when the rain has been relentless. It was all so bittersweet. Lilara had seen something that looked like love and, understandably, rushed to grasp it, sprinted for the conclusion that she so desperately wanted.

But nothing worth its weight in gold could be rushed. If Lilara had only allowed herself time to mend and heal before landing the blame on a beautiful part of herself, she would have found the right love, waiting patiently to accept her for all that she was. Magic would welcome that love with open arms in return. It had taken Sage her whole life to learn such a lesson, but it had been worth the wait.

“My story is one where both love and magic live!” Sage shouted. “In fact, I’m not sure they’re so different at all. Things may change along the way, sadness and heartbreak will inevitably be smudged across my pages, but still, I trust my ending will be a happy one. And magic will be there.”

Her heart already knew it to be true. Scribbles and inky mistakes littered the pages that she had already turned, but she was deserving of all the good things among whatever came next.

Lilara’s fading form rose higher and higher up to the domed ceiling, the black clouds closing in around her at the edges, and then there was a dreadful piercing scream. Her form blew entirely into darkness and mist. The silver highlights of her star-covered cloak gave one final, lingering glitter, and at the turn of midnight, as the clock struck the twelfth day of the enchantment, Lilara Mournfell and her curses faded from the world.

From the darkness where she had vanished, a tumble of crimson rose petals cascaded to the ground.

Sage’s whole body trembled, deep breaths of relief and exhilaration rushing through her. Then, not too long afterwards, there was the sound of running once again, boots shuffling at speed through the labyrinth, drawing closer and closer.

Then a call.

“Specs?”

34

Some Spell

Casimir burst around the corner of the labyrinth. The moment his eyes found Sage through the wintery darkness, his shoulders sagged in blatant relief. He ran to her.

It was only when he emerged from the maze corridor and stepped into the pale light at the desk that she saw the true state of him. The enchantment had evidently begun to lift, the smallest signs of his character beginning to change back, but the solace of his release from its binds was limited. Without the romantic golden glow that the spell had shrouded him in for days, his normal clothes were ragged, ripped to shreds. His smooth skin was torn with bloody scratches, and his beautiful hair was matted with droplets of blood and curls of dried petals. He swayed on the spot.

“Casimir!” Sage cried. She lunged to catch him as he stumbled towards her. “What happened to you? Please don’t tell me this was the dragon. It’s all my fault.”

“The dragon was in fact the best part—reminded me of Mal. I suppose the curse was covering up rather a multitude of sins. There have been various incidents. A lot of thorns, a duel with Patrick on the way—he had returned to normal size and wasn’t half bad.”

“We should have left him in the jar.” Sage grimaced.