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Gothel had a feeling Primrose didn’t realize how sick she likely was. “Because, Prim, you two haven’t been yourselves since Mother attacked you. We’re worried she’s caused some kind of irreparable harm.”
“We’re just tired, Gothel. I think you’re making more of this than is necessary.”
“Prim, it’s been months and you’re not getting better!” Gothel hadn’t meant to raise her voice, but she sometimes found Primrose’s Hades-may-care attitude annoying.
“I think you’re being dramatic, Gothel. As usual!”
“No, Prim, Gothel is right. There is something terribly wrong with us. I didn’t want to frighten you, but I think we should do something about it as soon as we can manage.”
“Really? Do you think it’s that bad?” asked Primrose. But before one of her own sisters could answer, Martha chimed in.
“Don’t worry, Primrose, my sisters and I will help you. I promise. Your mother lived an extraordinarily long life. Somewhere deep within one of her books will be the answer. I promise you.”
“I’m so glad you’re here,” said Primrose to the odd sisters.
“We all are,” said Gothel.
“Yes, very glad indeed,” said Hazel.
“Now, shall we open our gifts before the evening takes a darker turn?” asked Gothel, trying to lighten the mood. The truth was she was very worried about her sisters—even more now that Hazel had admitted she agreed something was wrong—but she didn’t want to worry Primrose any more than needed.
She just hoped the odd sisters would be able to help her save Primrose and Hazel.
Lucinda and her sisters hadn’t come down for breakfast yet, and Gothel’s sisters were sleeping in, as they often did. Gothel told Jacob not to have them disturbed, to let them sleep as long as they wished. They had all stayed up quite late the night before, opening gifts. But Gothel had gotten up early. She wanted the opportunity to talk with Jacob alone in the quiet of early morning, when the light was still a muted blue.
She found him at the little greenhouse talking with a number of skeletal creatures about something that seemed rather important.
“Good morning, Jacob.”
“Good morning, little witch.”
“What’s going on here?” she asked, wondering if something was wrong.
“Just taking some security measures.”
“Jacob, may I speak with you privately?”
“It’s safe to talk in front of your minions, little witch.”
“I ca
n tell there is something bothering you about our guests. I’d like to know what it is.”
“Yes. I was planning to come to you after I was done here. I think it would be best if you sent those sisters away at once. Your mother foresaw the destruction of this place many years ago, and she saw it in the form of three witches.”
“That could have been me and my sisters, Jacob. I destroyed the rapunzel, and I killed our mother, almost destroying the entire dead woods in the process. I fulfilled the prophecy myself.”
“She always said it would be three witches wearing the same face.”
“Perhaps she was wrong, Jacob. Maybe she didn’t see correctly.”
“Your mother’s visions were rarely wrong. Please trust me, Gothel. I don’t trust these witches. You don’t know anything about them. Where they’re from, why they’re really here. For all you know, they are here to steal the rapunzel. They could be here to take your place as queen! You’ve never met witches before, Gothel. They are wicked, horrid creatures, envious of each other’s powers, greedy for more magic. Why did they say they came?”
“To help Primrose and Hazel.”
“And in exchange?” he asked, startling Gothel with how informal he was being with her.
“They want to know Mother’s magic. They want to learn how to raise the dead, and how Mother was able to live so long.”
