Page 85 of Disenchanted

Sage shook her head, shuffling uncomfortably under all the attention, even though she got the feeling that both of these people were actually rather nice. She was mostly just baffled by the expectation versus reality that she was experiencing. This was not quite the looming, intimidating force that she had spent a lifetime fearing.

“Sage, are you okay?” Casimir asked protectively.

Bonnie, too, seemed to sense that Sage was not enjoying the sudden interrogation in an unfamiliar coven headquarters. “Forgive me, love. It’s just a surprise to see a new face around here, that’s all! It’s not often we meet a new adult witch that we haven’t had on our radar. Have you…Is your magic…That is to say…” Bonnie’s bewildered smile was so wide and welcoming that Sage felt herself ease up at least an inch or two.

“Please accept our most heartfelt apologies that we did not discover your esteemed magic for ourselves, my new friend.” Arty offered her a gentlemanly bow, which Sage couldn’t help but twitch her lips at. “It has been a tumultuous time for this coven of late. You will have to forgive our lackadaisical work for the past few years, a period of great change, you see,” he said with an endearing sincerity that Sage couldn’t help but be warmed by. Despite herself, Sage was already intrigued by the sparks of insight being dangled before her.

“Arty, we don’t need to get into all of that now,” Bonnie said kindly.

“And what might you have to say for yourself, tall chap back there?” Arty said, turning to Casimir with a look of suspicion.

“Well, I…I suppose I’m Casimir Everald, and…”

“And who is he, when he’s at home?” Arty peered through his glasses with new disapproval of Casimir before giving him a quick sniff. “Non-wicche. We have several among the coven now, but that’s not to say you shouldn’t mind your business.”

“He’s my friend. He’s always just sort of…here,” Sage said, waving a hand.

“For my sins,” Casimir said, giving her a look. “Don’t blame yourselves for the shoddy service, folks. Sage here conveniently neglected to mention the small detail that she has indeed been avoiding you at all costs. Hiding, you might say! Changed her mind only recently, as we’ve been having a teeny, tiny bit of a conundrum that we could use a hand with.” He gave Sage his most infuriating smile, well-rehearsed from their rival days, the one that he always gave, knowing he’d pay for it later. “Isn’t that right, Sage?”

She scowled at him.

“Hiding? Whatever for, love?” Bonnie asked, concerned.

Sage sighed. “I have not been entirely…open to being found, so to speak.” She shook her head again, determined to get to the point, despite all of this wild distraction. “Anyway, it’s a long story and none of it remotely matters right now. We…” She swallowed hard. “I need your help. Please.”

“If you’d be so kind,” Casimir added. “We’ve got a town in turmoil and a lot of magic on the loose.”

Bonnie and Arty exchanged a glance, the kind of look shared between family who understand one another so implicitly that thoughts can be shared easily and silently. “Tell us everything,” Bonnie said, and without so much as a singular further question, she and Arty rushed Sage through one of the atrium doors and into a small, cosy common room.

“Oi!” Casimir called after them, running to catch up. “Maybe let’s not leave the sublunary alone to fend for himself!”

“You’ve had quite the time of it,” Bonnie said, rubbing Sage’s back in a comforting way that reminded her of Maggie. “The joy of magic is something we always try to instil here at Selcouth. Well, now that things have been…restructured, at least. Love, magic and joy are all inextricably intertwined—it’s important to celebrate that triquetra in everything we do.”

“Life’s richest gifts,” Arty said, beaming.

Bonnie nodded before her expression changed to something sterner. “But this Lilara Mournfell had no place dragging you into her mess of regrets, to feel better about her own decisions. Can’t say I’m too familiar with her story, although the name does ring a bell. We’ll examine her records more closely, ensure that her spirit has departed this plane for good.”

Sage sniffed. “In her defence, I may never have got there myself. I’ve always struggled with anything…frivolous.”

“That’s understandable when you’ve been through such hard loss,” Bonnie said. “But joy is never frivolous, my love. It’s vital. And so is magic, in much the same way. Magic isn’t just power, Sage; it’s permission to live brightly. And we would be honoured to be a part of that permission for you.”

Sage glanced at Casimir, sitting in the chair opposite, gleefully studying her reaction to everything they told her. He was loving every moment, and she couldn’t remember ever feeling quite so welcomed anywhere. The older witch and warlock both seemed a bit bonkers, but in a very familiar, nostalgic sort of way. The feeling of parental guidance and support was one that had faded into an almost vanished memory, but it sparked fondly now, in faint recognition.

“And now, as much as I am thoroughly enjoying our elevenses, we absolutely must away to your home,” Arty said gently, giving a reassuring tap on top of Sage’s hand. He rose to his feet with a little difficulty.

“Our coven watchman did mention about a week ago that there was an increase in magical activity around your hometown. He said he’d keep an eye on things and was taking closer steps to monitor the charts. We’ll have to see whether it was him who sent the door to you or whether you inadvertently conjured it yourself,” Bonnie said.

“That could explain the sensation I felt, of someone getting closer,” Sage pondered.

Bonnie nodded. “But Port Sylvan has always been such a prolific magical location, and for so long, built on ley lines and with big swings of supernatural levels regularly—”

“The Dunstan boy’s a useless weasel,” Arty cut in, offering out the plate of chocolate biscuits again to Sage before they left. He turned to Casimir but eyed him suspiciously. “You’re not a weasel, are you, boy?”

Sage did her best to keep a snort under wraps.

“Arty!” Bonnie said disapprovingly. “Rune’s not useless, or a weasel, for that matter. He’s extremely bright and a very reliable watchman. You’re in the very best of hands with him,” she said to reassure Sage and Casimir. “But as we may have mentioned, the coven has gone through a time of great change these past couple of years. We’re all adjusting to new ways. It’s not a story for today, but we’ll explain everything about our organization once we wrap up your current troubles as neatly as we can.” Bonnie gestured for Sage to head towards the door.

“First thing’s first, we’ll need to grab a couple of volunteers who haven’t already got their hands full today.”