Page 44 of Homegrown Magic

When she stoops and picks up the parchment to re-read the invitation, she nearly drops it again in shock. The Claunecks’ brusque postscript isn’t the end of their message. There’s more, written in plain letters and shimmering silver ink unlike the bright-green calligraphy of the invitation and postscript. And it’s addressed to her.

We request your presence as well, Margot Greenwillow. Say nothing of this personal missive, but bring our heir back to Ashaway where they belong, quickly and discreetly. Baremon and I know you’re capable of this and a good deal more. My husband and I place our faith in you.

However, should that faith be misplaced, you may expect a summons to discuss the willful and unauthorized use of company property that no longer belongs to you, as well as the future of assets we have been gracious enough to allow you to continue to occupy. An outcome neither of us wishes, I’m sure. We look forward to your immediate presence in Ashaway, along with Yael, lest your absence be considered your response, and our previous agreement considered void.

Best Regards,

Menorath Clauneck

Margot makes herself keep hold of the invitation, though her nerves threaten to abandon her. The note must be written in invisible script, spelled so it’s only visible to her. She skims the letter again, hating herself as her heart leaps at Menorath’s words and at the threat within them.

My husband and I place our faith in you. However, should that faith be misplaced, you may expect a summons to discuss the willful and unauthorized use of company property that no longer belongs to you, as well as the future of such assets we have been gracious enough to allow you to continue to occupy.

It’s Margot’s worst fears laid bare on the page. The Claunecks are willing to take the cottage, the greenhouses, and Bloomfield, unless she gets Yael back to Ashaway and somehow convinces them that she’s on track with the Natural Caster Potion. That their faith in her is not misplaced. But can she still hold on to Yael’s friendship if she’s also working for their parents?

Does she have a choice?

Clearly not.

Margot blows out a breath, running her gaze over the wildflower garden, Granny Fern’s wind chimes, and the peak of the tower of Greenwillow Manor in the distance.

There’s really only one choice to make, even if her reasons for it are as tangled as the ivy that crawls up the front of her cottage.

She hands the letter back to Yael, who shoves it into their pocket. “When you go back—”

“If I go back,” Yael interrupts bitterly.

“Or if you go, let me go with you?” Margot weaves her hand through Yael’s again.

“Really?” Yael says. “You’d do that? For me?”

“With you.” Margot has to look away as she says it, her treacherous heart cracking at Yael’s hopeful expression.

“Even if it means seeing my terrible family?”

“Even if it means that. You…you owe yourself the chance to confront them, don’t you think?”

Yael pulls Margot to their chest, hugging her tightly. “You are a magical human, Margot Greenwillow. I—I’m just so very glad to have found you again.”

She is so very glad of that too, even if she isn’t sure what being in Ashaway with Yael—and their parents—will bring, or what it will do to the fragile thing growing between them. Alas, she has no choice but to find out.

17

Yael

Under the high-noon sun three days later, a carriage arrives just as Yael’s parents promised—or rather threatened. It appears from the distance as a black spot against the gently sloping countryside. Its ebony wood is polished to a high gloss and crowned with sharp gold trim. On one door panel is a golden Clauneck seal, and on the other, a painted panorama of the Copper Court with the vast Clauneck Company offices at its center, twin-peaked towers rising from the roof akin to horns. Perched on the raised box seat, a coachman Yael recognizes from their family’s employ but couldn’t possibly name holds the reins for a pair of giant boars, with shaggy black fur and eyes like fiery coals sunk deep into skulls as large as carriage wheels.

“Nice, Father,” Yael mutters, scowling.

If only they could have ridden Sweet Wind. But returning to Ashaway with the steed would most likely mean returning the steed to Oreborn. At least they were instructed to wait at the outer gate; Yael is grateful for that, though it meant half a mile’s walk with their trunks. Devils forbid the carriage had driven into Bloomfield to pick them up, terrorizing everyone in its path. Even Margot looks like she would rather walk the rest of the way to Ashaway than climb inside this monstrosity.

Yael reaches for her hand. “My family never was subtle in their villainy. But it’s actually quite nice inside. There are curtains for privacy, and there’s very comfortable seating. There may even be snacks.”

Margot looks nervously at the boars. “Do they bite?”

“Not as hard as I do.”

This earns a burst of laughter. “Thank gods you’ve managed to restrain yourself so far.”