Sisters' Fate

I didn’t know that happiness and sadness could mingle this closely. “I will.” I turn, and he drops the chain around my neck and then fastens the hook. I clutch the ring in my fist for one second, then let it drop down between my br**sts.

When I turn back around, his brown eyes take in every bit of me.

“May I kiss you?”

I launch myself at him, my mouth reaching for his. He trails a finger down my bare neck and I shiver and press closer. “Not,” I whisper against his lips, “if I kiss you first.”

• • •

A bit later, we walk hand in hand down the snowy hill and through the garden. I’m surprised Father hasn’t sent someone out to fetch me yet, given how fatherly he’s been of late. But as we turn the corner past the rose garden, a voice calls out.

“Cate? Is that you?” It’s Tess.

Finn squeezes my hand. “I’ll go in, and give you two a moment.”

“Thank you.” I walk into the rose garden—our old sanctuary, our one safe place. Tess has brushed the snow from the marble bench at the foot of the statue of Athena. She looks cold and miserable; her shoulders are hunched and her lips faintly purple. “What are you doing out here?”

“I wanted to be alone.” She gestures to the tall hedges that surround the garden; no one can see us from the house. I hesitate, but she pats the bench. “You don’t count, silly.”

I perch next to her. “How are you?”

She purses her lips. “Sad. Guilty. Happy. And then guilty again.”

“Tell me about the happy bit,” I suggest.

“Father said Vi could come and live with us in the new house. He thinks he’s found just the place—he said there’s a room that would make a magnificent library, and one of the bedrooms has a turret with a window seat, and he said that could be mine. And there’s a great big kitchen and he said Mrs. Muir—that’s his housekeeper in New London—wouldn’t mind me poking about. He even said Vi could bring her kitten.” A shadow passes over Tess’s face. “I’d like to have Vi with me. We’ve become so close over the last few months, rooming together. Like sisters, almost. Only—do you suppose that Maura would think I was trying to replace her?”

“No.” I give a firm shake of my head. “She wouldn’t suppose she was so easy to replace.”

“She isn’t.” Tess smooths her black cloak. “I’ll miss her forever.”

“I know.” I put my hand over Tess’s and we sit there for a moment, quiet together.

“Part of me feels like I don’t ever want to do magic again,” Tess confesses. “I haven’t since the fire.”

“What?” I stare at her. “That’s not what Maura would want. She loved being a witch. Sometimes I was jealous of how happy it made her, especially when I felt like my magic was such a dreadful burden.”

Tess leans forward, propping her elbows on her knees. “Do you still feel that way? Like magic is wicked?”

“No.” I’m a little startled to find that that’s true.

Tess’s heavy sigh blows blond curls away from her face. “All I can think of is the terrible things I did. I don’t see how magic will ever be fun again.”

A memory flashes through me as I look around the dreary winter garden. “What good is all this, anyway, if we can’t use it to make things more beautiful?” I ask.

I cast, and the rosebushes burst into color: bright pink and scarlet flowers framed by deep green leaves.

Tess frowns. “Did I say that? That sounds like something I’d say.”

“You did, and you were absolutely correct. You usually are.” I gesture at her. “Your turn.”

She hesitates.

I elbow her. “I dare you. Maura would, too, if she were here.”

Tess stands, and for a minute I think she’s going to flee. Then she turns, and the statue of Athena is wearing a white clematis skirt. Tess giggles.

I cast, and Athena receives a giant sunflower hat.

Tess casts, and there are yellow daffodils everywhere. The harbinger of spring. Maura’s favorite flower. They pop up between the rosebushes and coat the marble bench and dot the walkway outside the rose garden. We peek out and see a carpet of them stretching away up the hillside.

Tess grins. “Are you going to tell me to put it back? I’m breaking the rules, you know.”

“No.” I breathe in the summertime perfume of wild roses and feel my heart lighten. “Those rules don’t apply to us anymore.”