Page 105 of Impractical Magic

“Whatever. Our bosses won’t forget about Oak Haven. You’ll see. They’ll just send more of us to try again.”

“Maybe so,” Priti said amiably. “But we’ll be ready for you next time.”

And with that, the witches dragged the magician away.

Beneath the old bridge, the magician’s possessions floated along the sharp rocks. There was a change of clothes, a dog-eared copy of the Farmer’s Almanac, a travel backgammon set . . . and a small, gilded cage holding a vibrant starling.

The little bird sang urgently. But as the cage floated in the shadow of the old covered bridge, her trills went unheard.

***

One Sunday, Earls Nine through Twelve marched up to the grove to visit Thirteen. They brought a tent, a few changes of clothes, and materials to build a solar oven. They sat with their heartbroken descendant, hoping to distract him with epic tales of the Great Sea Wolf, Earl of Anglia, Terror of Tortuga. Nate enjoyed the old men’s stories, and welcomed their company. But when his beloved ancestors raised the issue of coming home?

Earl Thirteen remained.

***

Most evenings around sunset, Delilah and Luna would head downtown, recreating that stroll they’d taken that very first evening Scarlett had come home. Eventually they’d find themselves on the town green, staring up at the statue of Goodwife Melrose.

“I shouldn’t have been so hard on her,” Delilah would say every time. “Remember, Luna—I accused Scarlett of running away, just like our ancestors from Salem. But she didn’t run, did she?”

Luna would wrap her arm around her sister’s and rest her head on her shoulder. “No,” she’d say sadly, “she didn’t.”

***

In his misery, Nate took daily walks to try and clear his head. He’d amble down the hill from the grove and pause beside the babbling river. And he would gaze sadly at the covered bridge. The very bridge where Scarlett once jumped, brave and reckless and as beautiful as anyone he’d ever seen. The very bridge that had been the backdrop of their first and only date.

At the same moment, the starling sat trapped in her golden cage, which had become wedged between two large rocks beneath the bridge. She was surviving on meager rations of beetles and minnows that happened to float past. Not much, but just enough.

The starling could sense when Nate was nearby, and she would sing for him. She’d warble and whistle and trill as loudly as she possibly could.

But all Nate heard was the rushing water and the breeze rustling through the trees.

When he couldn’t bear the painful memories a moment longer, he’d turn his back to the bridge and walk in the opposite direction.

***

The first flakes of snow drifted down in mid-November. Luna went up to the grove to visit Nate. She, unlike everyone else in town, never asked him to come home. Instead, she sat cross-legged on the ground, meditating for hours until she’d conjured for him a tiny but lovely one-room house.

***

Thanksgiving arrived, and all the Mrs. Earls marched up the hill to beg their son/grandson/great-grandson/and-so-on to come home. Just for one day. For a family Thanksgiving. Please.

But Nate remained.

Zahir made him a plate and brought it up to the grove. The men sat on the stoop of Nate’s little house and watched the sun set in silence.

***

Time marched on, and winter arrived in earnest. Nate chopped firewood and scanned the sky, his beard growing ever longer.

He noticed that the starlings seemed to require almost no water and very little food. They just carried on somehow. He hoped this was meaningful. He hoped they were waiting for Scarlett, too.

Under the bridge, the starling shivered in her little frozen prison. But although her voice was growing weak, she continued to sing.

***

Oak Haven was transformed into a winter wonderland. Buildings were adorned with enchanted icicles; they glowed in warm neon hues, as though the Northern Lights had settled permanently over the town. The street lamps sang Christmas carols whenever prompted, and the snow that blanketed the streets was always perfectly white.