Page 70 of Disenchanted

“The fairy-tale spell from Lilara was not something new,” Casimir said quietly into the top of her hair. “Her bitter curse has been there all along, waiting for a century for you to unlock it from the book and begin the story.”

While the arbitrary and unfair nature of Lilara’s decision to curse her was maddening, as well as the way that she had walked blindly into it, something about the inevitability felt like an odd sort of relief, in some ways.

As Sage blew out a steadying breath, attempting to claw back some air as well as some dignity before she could look Casimir in the eye, the colder pair of hands slipped from her shoulder with an affectionate tap.

“I think we all need something a little stronger than the kettle tonight,” Maggie said.

“Hang on, Maggs.” Sage reached out for her friend’s shoulder and inevitably found her hand slipping through her form. Maggie turned back with a soft, sad smile. “Are you okay? We should talk about what Lilara did to you, your fate, that last letter…”

“It’s rather a comfort to have an answer at last, as I’m sure you may feel too. The last time I read these letters, I was alive and well. I could not have known the weight of her words, or what they meant for my future,” Maggie said, finding the silver lining that she always somehow did. “Lily, although good and kind, did sometimes fall victim to spoiled tendencies—a golden upbringing will do that to a girl. And unrequited love does peculiar things to the best of folk. We have plenty of time to talk about me. I’m certainly not going anywhere.”

Her gentle words somehow managed to break Sage’s heart all over again. The ghost excused herself to head back downstairs, and Sage heard the tinkling of glasses and the rattle of the bar cart as she prepared each of them a drink.

Sage risked a shrinking glance at Casimir. “Go on, then,” she said, embarrassed that her voice sounded so nasal and, well, soggy. She sniffed and wiped at her eyes indignantly with the backs of her hands. “Say whatever it is you need to say.”

“I don’t need to say anything,” Casimir replied quietly, only reaching out with the end of his sleeve to mop up the couple of stray tears that were still stubbornly refusing to stop falling. “I only ever really want to hear what you think, the marvellous way your mind works, Specs. You always have far more sense to offer than I do. Especially now that I’m often talking with such…horrific pizzazz?”

Despite herself, Sage’s own hand reached for his, and they rested together on her cheek. She just needed something to hold on to. “Even I don’t have the words for this one. I have no answers anymore. No suggestions, no proposals, no summation. Nothing.”

Casimir gently stroked his thumb over her cheekbone. “Well, you’re a woman who has always appreciated facts and evidence,” he said, “so don’t ignore the ones we’ve just uncovered.” He stooped to gather up the letters from the floor and held them out to her determinedly. “Sage, what else do you need to hear to believe that you were never evil, bad or wicked? I certainly never believed you on that one, and look. It’s written in genuine historical resources, no less. Our favourite! You were caught up in an impossible legacy decided by the fates long before you even met magic. You might try to go a little easier on yourself.”

Stubbornly, on instinct and reflex, Sage shook her head so vehemently that her curls trembled. She didn’t have to examine them to know that several would be in the shape of lightning bolts by now.

Casimir laughed throatily. “You don’t even know what you’re disagreeing with me on, do you?”

“It doesn’t change anything. Not really,” she said. “The curse might explain the mess we’re in currently, the fact it was waiting for me in the book, but it doesn’t change the darkness of my magic or my terrible mistake before that.”

Casimir sighed. “Regardless, you’re not a bad person, Sage,” he said, holding both of her shoulders. “If only that beautiful soul of yours might find the grace to forgive.”

Was that the prince or Casimir talking?

“Forgiveness for Lilara?” Sage considered the idea.

Being betrayed by her heroine was the toughest of pills to swallow. But it was evident from the letters that Lilara had sadly descended into the kind of hasty, unsteady madness that only comes from the rawest of first heartbreaks. Sage knew better than anyone that a magical sort of mind felt those things even more deeply than the non-wicche. If there was one thing that Sage could never stand, it was irrationality, but she could see so clearly how Lilara had changed from the Lily that Maggie had known and the plain, cold-hearted cause of it all. Lilara had been rejected and hurt by her lover, her parents, the entire town, left with only her fears and self-loathing for company. It was clear where her bitterness and wrath for the next witch had come from.

Sage couldn’t hold this against her. In fact, she understood it all very well. Sometimes, finding even a single glimmer felt impossible.

“I meant forgiveness for yourself.” Casimir’s hands moved to her shoulders and he held her steady.

“Oh,” Sage faltered. “Then no.”

Casimir gave a short laugh. “By my crown, you are the most unyielding woman I have ever had the honour of meeting. A stubbornness that could bring a kingdom to its knees.”

Sage scowled at him, officially giving up on trying to figure out whether it was Cas or the enchantment talking anymore. The revelations from the letters had brought her into a new type of exhaustion; she was entirely strung out, as though her brain wasn’t quite looping one thought to the next as it should. She had never realized until it was gone just how much her magic had always acted as an extra uncredited force to be reckoned with against the distinctly non-wicche feeling of…tiredness. She missed it. She missed everything about it.

Sage tried to hold on to the sudden realization, but before she could examine it, it slipped away again.

“It’s Halloween tomorrow; the timing couldn’t be more perfect. I’ll face whatever Lilara has in store for me then.”

Casimir looked at her as though she were being ridiculous. “Specs, I’m not just going to leave you to go out there by yourself and face whatever this end to the curse might be without support.”

Sage shrugged. “I can manage by myself.”

“We’re a team. There’s no way you’re going out there—”

“Casimir,” Sage said firmly. She looked him directly in the eye. “I have lost everything.” She enunciated the last word specifically. “I have lost my life’s work. I have lost my magic.”

At that, his mouth fell open. “Specs, your magic?”