Page 41 of Disenchanted

Sage swallowed hard. Something about all this felt…off. The way the spell was brushing a light finger over their skin, breathing a little too closely to their necks. They needed to be more careful.

But she always had to be the one to ruin the fun. It was practically second nature to her, forever pointing out what could go wrong, the bad news, the things that were important to consider before everybody lost their heads to frivolity…Even at university, she’d been the one to take on the limited-fun role, making sure everyone got home safely. It was always her who delivered the reminder of reality. It wasn’t a job she enjoyed, but someone had to do it.

Casimir threw an arm over Sage’s shoulder while Laurel hung off her other side, and they started to discuss what they might find at the Wheat and Walnut market stall, post-salon. Sage saw it for what it was: a cheap distraction to pull her out of her own mind with the promise of a sweet treat. They just wanted to enjoy themselves.

She had to admit, it was all very beautiful, and at the helm of this magic was someone she could surely trust. Her lifelong hero trying to show her something important and valuable. She had to have faith. And, crucially, everybody else seemed to think that it was not just the right decision but the necessary one. Lilara had permitted her loved ones to be in on the joke so they could enjoy this time together.

As Sage allowed her sister to sweep her away on a garble of whether she needed to cut in a fringe, she cursed herself for being so easily won over, because it was working. Despite herself, she smiled. For the first time since she was a teenager, a hot, sparkly glimmer came to her palms.

Squeezed between two of her most precious souls, Sage couldn’t deny the feeling that her luck might finally be changing. Maybe magic really was on her side after all.

17

Your First Vanquishing

Five days had passed since she had inadvertently invited Lilara’s magic back to town, and Sage was quietly feeling a strange sort of pride at allowing herself to let it colour within the lines of their days.

Above all else, everybody seemed unquestionably happy and safe, which calmed her concern considerably. It all felt, if not under control, then at least running smoothly, which was enough for now. She had reasoned with herself that once the spell had run its course and they had worked through all twelve of its chapters, then the book was bound to present her with its secrets, including the solution for banishing her powers. It felt logical and neat.

Sage was sleeping better, breathing deeper, moving slower. Happily, her own magic seemed to have calmed with Lilara’s nearby to keep it company, finding a twin flame like a sibling or a cousin. There had been no more accidental, rogue explosions of her powers since the book was opened, which gave a satisfactory explanation as to why it had been behaving so badly in the first place. It had been responding to the arrival of the book, ramping up once it was delivered.

After hours of poring over Okafor’s Winks and Whispers of Fictional Magic, changing their research tactics from fictional to non-fictional and back again five times over, Sage decided that she would need some form of motivational treat to steel her resolve afresh. Lilara’s grimoire remained blank, and their most successful methods of filling in the spell’s whole picture came from exploring the town in person, rather than through dusty cartography and aged records. Sage and Casimir had unanimously concluded that the magic seemed to be encouraging them outside, away from the museum, to immerse themselves as best they could in the community and unfolding fairy tales. Sage had yet to decide how she really felt about it all.

She and Casimir strolled through the afternoon in tandem, detailing the latest changes and scoffing toffee-drizzled cinnamon buns as they made their way along the bank of the stream, which meandered its way through the landmarks of the town. Their surroundings felt different and yet familiar all at once: a route they had often trodden together seen in a new light.

Even the rose gardens had been bewitched by the spell, their manicured beds exploding in wild bursts of blush, crimson and cherry red. Although the flowers were always pleasant to walk through, every possible inch among them was now splattered with an extra sprinkle of wildflowers too, transforming the neat gardens into something more like a rose meadow. It was wildly beautiful and had taken on a life of its own. They were clambering, sprawling, and the lush colours were like nothing Sage could ever remember taking the time to notice—not since she was very young, anyway. Tiny bells of blue, a spray of butter yellow, freckles of daisies, frills of pale pink and ripples of deep purple. Sage was startled to find herself imagining when she gazed out towards them. She could almost see the tiniest of fairy feet that might wander between the stems.

What in the name of all known theorems was happening to her? She shook her head to clear these most obnoxious of cobwebs. She had very important answers to find. Fairy feet were certainly not an immediate priority in the grand scheme of things.

Casimir stooped down to snatch up a stone that he’d been kicking along the trail of the stream and rubbed it on the collar of his doublet. He blew on it for luck, then sent it skimming down the stream with three enthusiastic bounces.

There was a clunk of rock hitting metal.

“Tell me you can list a few fairy tales that involve buried treasure in a river?” he asked with a hopeful look. “Everything else has been pleasant enough so far, but I could do with a chest full of gold. Have we been at the end of the rainbow this entire time? That’d be nice.”

“That’s not treasure,” Sage said, shaking her head. She pointed to where the stone had landed. “Look, there’s a…helmet? And…Ah, an entire knight in shining armour, by the looks of it.”

“I think you’re right. But is…is that knight drowning?” Casimir shouted, already rushing down the bank of the stream to where the glint of silver was bobbing up frantically and then back down below water level.

Someone else thrown into the spell’s path? Sage trailed after him with a worried lump in her throat. This was evidence that the spell was growing, beginning to reach out further than only her nearest and dearest, although the sight of Casimir’s sword swinging behind him as he ran, hitting him on the rear with every step, was a welcome, amusing distraction. “I think it’s…oh, you’re kidding. It’s Patrick from the Dap!” Casimir called back at her. “Why does that idiot get to wear a bloody suit of armour? That’s far cooler than anything I’ve got.”

At this discovery, Sage slowed her pace just a fraction. “Is it really? In that case, we should have brought snacks.”

“Specs! We can’t just leave him. Look, he can barely stay afloat! The suit is weighing him down.” Casimir was right. Patrick, barely recognizable thanks to the knight’s helmet wrapped around his big head, was waving frantically with heavy armour-plated arms. The splashes were high as he flailed, silver reflecting the sunlight in bolts of bright white against the water. “Patrick, what the hell are you doing, man?”

“The mermaids! The bloody mermaids!” Patrick spluttered back, trying and failing to keep his head above water. His very sad-looking red feather kept resurfacing persistently. “They lured me in…” he just about managed to shout through a mouthful of stream. “I can’t…Will you just help me, brainiacs?”

Patrick, of all people, was the latest to be chosen for enchantment? Sage and Casimir exchanged looks of disbelief.

“Should we, you know, save him?” Casimir asked, rocking back on his heels with a raised eyebrow. He too had lost a bit of urgency since the discovery.

“I suppose so. In you go, then.”

“This is your spell, Hemlock. This one’s down to you. I can keep watch.”

“What for?”

“More mermaids, hopefully.”