Good for You 

“Stephan, why don’t you let me find you a nice, comfortable house to retire in?” Mildred asked on his eightieth birthday. She used a spell to tack a Happy Birthday sign high on the wall above the fireplace, where several of his ivy plants had started to climb. “I’m sure we could find—”

He stopped her with a weak wave of his hand. “No,” he said wearily. “I’ve spent my life at Chatham Castle. I shan’t leave it to die somewhere by myself. I’ll die working, the way I always planned.”

Council Members weren’t required to stay in their position until death, but they were allowed to, provided that business continued as usual. Mildred’s nose wrinkled. Once, dying at her desk seemed the most likely, and even welcome, outcome of her life. But five years of working as his Assistant had changed those ideas. She’d die on her own terms, thank you very much.

“All right,” Mildred said with a heavy sigh. “Let me cover you with this blanket. Don’t you want your lunch?”

“No,” he said, closing his eyes. His face looked unusually pale, though he hadn’t had real color for some time. “Just a nap, like always.”

Mildred removed the tray, draped a second blanket over him, waved a few more logs onto the fire, and headed to the door. She cast one last glance back, saw him staring at the portrait of his wife on the wall, and slipped out of the room, the tray following her. Marten waited outside.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” she said, smiling and taking his hand. Stephan’s full lunch tray drifted down the hall on its own, moving to the kitchen.

“Not at all,” he replied, returning her warm smile. “It wasn’t long.”

They strolled hand in hand down the hallway until Mildred broke the silence. “I’m worried about Stephan.”

“You’ve been worried about Stephan since you first met him,” Marten quipped with a laugh.

“Well, yes, that’s true, strictly speaking. But I’m worried in a different way. After working as his Assistant for so long, I’ve learned his ways. He’s so calm right now. So . . . boring. He answers all my questions without a fight, and didn’t even argue with me when I brought him a gardening book he’d already read. He just stares at the fire. He hasn’t eaten a cookie in almost a week.”

Marten caught on to the concern in her voice and met her troubled eyes. “What are you worried it means?”

“It can’t be long until he dies, the poor man. Perhaps just weeks at the most. He is eighty, after all. Normally he demands a chocolate cake with white frosting, a new plant, a pair of slippers, and his dinner served on the finest bone china in the castle, but he hasn’t spoken a word about his birthday today.”

“Is that what’s really bothering you? Stephan dying?”

Mildred had to pause to analyze her feelings about the inevitable loss of her mentor. Yes, she thought in surprise. He is my mentor. Somehow, over the years, she’d developed an unlikely friendship with Stephan. The end of their time together held a definite note of sadness, but one couldn’t fight with nature. Death was no more under her control than the seasons.

“I’m quite sad about losing him, I suppose. I will miss the cantankerous old fart . . . sometimes. But there are more selfish reasons too. When he dies, I shall be out of a job.”

“Someone else could choose you as Assistant,” Marten pointed out. Mildred rolled her eyes.

“No one on this Council would have me—except maybe Porter, and he has no reason to give up his Assistant—nor would I work with anyone but him. That’s just it, Marten. I wouldn’t take it even if they did offer. I’m going to leave Chatham when Stephan dies. I decided it last week when he fell asleep in the middle of a sentence.”

Marten stopped walking to stare at her. “Leave?”

“I don’t want to be a Council Member.”

“You spoke of something like this when Stella gave birth to Daniel, but you haven’t mentioned it since. I figured you were happy once you made peace with Stephan.”

“Well, I suppose I was,” she said, tilting her head from side to side. She couldn’t sort through her emotions in any organized manner. “But the only thing that makes me really happy, besides being with you and Jorden, is teaching.”

“Who would you teach?”

Mildred lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “I’m not sure, but I thought of writing to Miss Jane. She may have a position available for me, and with all the experience I’ve gained teaching the servants these past years, I know I’d be a good fit in a Network school. Maybe even a common school, as I’m more used to working with new students.”

Marten’s mouth bobbed open and closed before he finally said, “Would this make you happy? Leaving politics to teach, I mean.”

She thought the question over with a brutal thoroughness. The thought of leaving the Middle Covens to the care of another witch wasn’t comfortable. “Partially happy, I suppose.”

“Then what else is there?”

She stopped and met his eyes with a very matter-of-fact gaze. “Being with you. Avoiding messages and meetings. Transporting to Jorden and Imogen’s cottage whenever the mood strikes me, not just on stolen weekends like I do now. Living away from the cold halls of Chatham Castle. I rather like the idea of finding a small cottage to live in with you. After we’re hand fasted, of course.”

“I’d like that very much,” Marten said with a smile, trailing the back of his hand along her cheek, but his voice elongated. “But what of your goal to make a difference in the world? Can you give it up so easily?”

She shifted. “The Central Network is a disaster that’s too big for me to fix, even as a Council Member. The Elitists have nearly taken over. Porter, Terry, and Stephan aside, of course. I feel my greatest contribution can be teaching.”

“The Middle Covens will fend for themselves under a leader of Donovan’s choosing.”

“I know,” she whispered. “But I can’t fix it. Donovan would no sooner appoint me their Council Member than give up his ipsum.”

Marten let out a sigh. “It feels wrong to leave the Middle Covens without a fight. Even I have come to love them.”

“What more could we do than we’ve already done?”

“A resistance.”

She paused, thinking back to the promise that she’d made to her students. It hadn’t seemed real at the time, but now that Marten mentioned it, she couldn’t help but wonder if all these events were funneling them to that one outcome.

“Perhaps,” she said, gazing away, not ready for it to come to that.

“Let’s just have a nice lunch,” Marten suggested, running a hand over the top of his smooth head. “This is the first we’ve seen of each other since your twenty-eighth birthday. You’ve been working in the Covens without a break.”

“Nothing new about that,” she said, and they walked to the dining hall in silence.

Mildred returned from their tense lunch feeling uneasy. She opened her mouth to greet Stephan, and stopped. He sat in his chair as usual, slumped to the side, a slight smile on his lifeless face.

“Oh,” Mildred murmured weakly. She glanced up at the portrait of Stephan’s wife and back at him again. For a moment, she worried she had brought his death upon him by speaking of it so frankly with Marten, but she dismissed the thought.

“Absurd,” she whispered. “He was on his way out already.”

The kind eyes of Stephan’s wife smiled down from her spot above the fireplace. Mildred sank onto a chair.

“Good for you, my old friend,” she said with a sigh. “Go see your family again.”

Evelyn prepared herself for her three o’clock appointment by staring out the window and collecting her thoughts. May wouldn’t approve of what she was about to do, which made her want to do it even more. No matter May’s opinion, Evelyn would give Mildred one chance to do the right thing before she let her go forever. She owed her at least that much. Evelyn’s hand tingled when she remembered the vow she’d made.

If my friends Mildred Graeme and Stella James Rowe do not support my decisions as High Priestess, I shall release them from my life with no further attempts to continue the friendship.

“She’ll be loyal to me,” Evelyn said in a low murmur. “Mildred is always steadfast.”

Things had been unusually tense and polite between Evelyn and May since their conversation in Letum Wood two weeks before. May did her job, remained quiet, and made no ripples in the water of Evelyn’s budding career. Evelyn felt like a butterfly coming out of her cocoon, and the feeling sparked magic between her fingers.

“When Mildred arrives, I won’t need you in the meeting, May,” Evelyn said, breaking the monotony of silence. “I’ll handle her appointment on my own.”

May nodded, impassive.

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Mildred entered her office at exactly three, just as Evelyn expected. May stood from behind her desk and moved into the hall. Once Evelyn sealed the door with a silencing incantation to thwart spying ears, she turned to Mildred with a cool smile.

“Merry meet, old friend. We haven’t spoken much since I became High Priestess three months ago.”

“We haven’t. You didn’t come to the birthday party this year either. Again.”

“Yes, well, I’m sure you understand how busy I’ve been lately.”

Mildred nodded, but her narrow eyes flickered. Evelyn didn’t feel the need to explain why she hadn’t gone but wondered if Mildred had already guessed. Taking tea with a young mother, a screaming child, and a Council Member’s Assistant wasn’t exactly in line with what was expected of a High Priestess. No matter how good of friends they were, Evelyn maintained standards. Even Mildred had to appreciate that. Besides, Nell had never taken tea outside the political sphere.

I must sacrifice for the greater good of the Network, Evelyn reminded herself with a resolute breath.

“I’m sure there can be no question as to why I’ve asked you here today,” Evelyn said, eager to get the appointment over with now that Mildred stood before her.

“I don’t know what you’re speaking of, High Priestess.”

“The Middle Covens need a new Council Member now that Stephan has passed. Since you’ve been taking care of them for so long—everyone knows you did Stephan’s job for him—and as you are a close personal friend who I trust to follow my counsel, I’ve concluded that appointing you as Council Member will ensure the smoothest transition.”

Mildred paused, her eyes as wide as if Evelyn had struck her face. “You want me to take Stephan’s place?”

“Are you surprised?”

“Yes. I hadn’t been expecting an offer of employment.”

“Really? You’ve worked with Stephan for five and a half years now. It’s not uncommon for an Assistant, especially one that’s worked as hard as you, to take over when a Council Member dies or retires.”

“I suppose I thought Donovan would assign the role,” she admitted.

“Ah, that. I volunteered to take some of the work off his plate, and he allowed me to extend this to you on his behalf. He is in full agreement with the decision. What do you say? Will you take it?”

She’d almost called her Milly, but pulled it back at the last moment. Evelyn’s left hand sat on her lap, clenched in a fist that Mildred couldn’t see. If Mildred refused, all would be over between them.

Please do the right thing, Mildred. Please don’t make me sacrifice you as well.

Mildred released a sharp, punctuated breath and opened a palm. “May I have a quill and a piece of parchment?”

“Make as many lists as you want.”

Evelyn waved the supplies to her and sat back down. Mildred lowered herself into a nearby chair and wrote in silence for the next fifteen minutes. Once she finished scribbling, she stared at her notes for another ten minutes. Evelyn didn’t dare say a word, not even when Mildred stood and set the quill back on her desk.

“I have no desire to give my life to the Network the way I once did,” Mildred said, “but I won’t leave the Middle Covens right now. Serving as Council Member is not my passion anymore. I’d grow old and bitter and disillusioned the way Stephan did, and I refuse to do that. For you, and the Middle Covens, I will take the position for the required five years. No more.”

Evelyn’s jaw dropped. “What?”

“It’s complicated,” Mildred said. “But suffice it to say that I don’t want to remain in politics forever. I will stay for the Middle Covens.”

Evelyn leaned back in her chair.

“When did this great change of heart occur?” she asked, secretly wounded that Mildred hadn’t betrayed these thoughts to her before. Then again, when would they have talked? Their communication had eroded since Stella left.

“Recently,” Mildred replied, clearing her throat. “Not too long ago.”

Evelyn swallowed, and the chasm that formed between them seemed unsurpassable. She felt as if she spoke with a total stranger, not one of her best childhood friends.

“What would you do if not politics?”

“Leave this bloody madhouse. Visit my brother. Marry Marten. Work at a school of sorts. I don’t really know yet. I’ll deal with that once I fulfill my five years as Council Member. I know that by then you will have turned the Network around from Donovan’s lazy rule, and I can move on with my life.”

Mildred held Evelyn’s gaze with stern expectation. Evelyn felt the weight all the way into her bones. She pressed her lips together until they blanched. A well of panic bloomed in her chest. The crushing grief from when Nell died returned with unrelenting strength, seizing her heart in a tight fist.

I don’t even know my best friends anymore. I’m already losing everyone.

Mildred glanced over her shoulder when a plume of sparks erupted from the fireplace. By sheer willpower, Evelyn forced the boiling magic in her chest to calm; it felt as if it would consume her with sticky, black panic. Mildred wanted to leave. Stella was already gone. Despite all her efforts, they were slipping away, just like Mama and Papa.

I don’t want to cut you loose the way I did Nell. I can’t stand it again.

“I see,” Evelyn whispered. “Well, I’m glad you’re willing to take it. I’m surprised that you’ve lost your motivation for the political game, of course. You’ve pursued this dream for years.”

“Things change,” Mildred said, and Evelyn thought she heard something more behind the words.

“I’m glad to have you remain at the castle. I . . . I need my friends.”

Mildred’s chuckle came out as a bark. “You need us, Evelyn? Have you gone mad? You’ve never needed us! You’ve made that very clear lately. You never respond to my letters, you don’t write Stella, and you stand me up for dinners every week.”

Evelyn stared at her, hearing the wails of a little girl rise to a keening pitch inside her. Why couldn’t she control these horrid emotions? Her body tingled; her chest burned. So much magic built inside her she thought she’d explode if she didn’t use it. Her tone dropped into a low, desperate plea.

“Being High Priestess isn’t what I thought it would be. It’s . . . it’s been difficult.”

“That’s something you should have thought of before you accepted.”

Evelyn scoffed bitterly. “You never were one to give comfort, were you?”

“Do you want comfort?”

Evelyn met her small, beady eyes. “Yes,” she whispered. “I want the comfort of knowing that my best friend is at my side, supporting me. Even if I haven’t been a very good friend, I admit.” She swallowed past the lump of pride that blocked her throat. “I . . . I have big plans, Mildred, and I need your help to execute them. They’ll be life-changing. May is a competent Assistant, of course, but—”

But she’s not a friend.

Mildred’s eyes had narrowed, though her usual inscrutable expression remained.

“Thank you.” Evelyn stood. “It will be a truly wonderful experience. I’ll have my legalwitch draw up the contract tonight. You’ll of course be afforded the usual two-year trial period during which you cannot be removed as Council Member unless you bring harm to the Covens or to other leaders. As you know, you’ll serve a five-year minimum, according to the Esmelda Scrolls. I must admit, I hope five years as Council Member will change your mind, and that you’ll stay.”

Mildred held out her arm. Evelyn grasped it firmly.

“Thank you, Mildred. I know you won’t regret it.”