Reunions and Farewells 

Mildred stared at the frozen ground in a stupefied daze. Her hand rested on Jorden’s shoulder while he wept, imparting no real comfort, but linking her to the darkness of her new reality.

“I’m not ready,” Jorden whispered, his head in his hands. “I’m not ready for Mother to leave us.”

Winter snow banks drifted over the cemetery and the fields beyond it. Ice coated the wrought iron fence rails and dripped from bare tree branches in long fingers. Mildred stared at them, feeling an odd kinship with their cold, frozen nature. Gray clouds loomed above, overtaking York with the threat of snow and the promise of uncertainty.

“I know you weren’t ready,” she said woodenly. “But that doesn’t change the facts, Jorden. Mother had a heart problem. We couldn’t have done any more for her.”

He covered his eyes with his bare hand, cold and nearly frozen in the winter light, and gave in to a fresh round of grief, one hand resting on Mother’s closed casket. He’d built it from the walls of the lean-to because they didn’t have the currency to buy a coffin. A pang of guilt stabbed Mildred’s aching heart.

I should have given her a better funeral, she thought. She deserves better. I’ve been working as Assistant to the High Witch of York for almost a year and a half now. Why couldn’t I afford it?

Because taxes were too high. Food was too expensive. Mama’s apothecary bills too large. Mildred remained lost in her thoughts, finding a certain safety in their expansiveness.

I need to prepare an audit. We’re out of Mother’s favorite tea. I must tutor tomorrow. Mother’s gone, I don’t need her tea. The house hasn’t been swept if anyone stops by. Mother will be angry if the house isn’t swept. I must write Stella and Evelyn to tell them the news.

“Mildred?”

Her old school teacher, Miss Sarah, shook her gently, startling her back to the present. “It’s time to go home,” Miss Sarah whispered, setting a warm hand on Mildred’s arm. Mildred pulled away, unable to bear the touch.

“Thank you, Miss Sarah. Come, Jorden. Let’s go.”

Jorden had gained his feet again but stared mutely at the casket, his eyes swollen with tears. “Merry part, Mother,” he whispered.

Mildred remained behind as Jorden and Miss Sarah departed. She stared at the frozen earth, her heart bleeding with every beat. She hadn’t been ready for Mother’s death either, and she feared what life would be like without her steady presence.

I’m only nineteen. How can I make you proud if you’re not here to guide me? What will I do without you?

“Merry part, Mother,” she whispered, an icy tear trailing down her cheek. “How I shall miss you.”

Four weeks after Mother’s death, Mildred woke to an unnatural silence in the house. She shuffled into the main room to make a pot of tea and found a note sitting on the table.

Milly,

I’ve joined the Guardians. I can’t live here amongst the ghosts and the quiet. I’ll write when I can.

—Jorden

After finishing a soothing cup of tea, Mildred dressed, leaving early for work. The spring morning held a nip in the air, but an undercurrent of warmth promised better days. She stopped at Miss Sarah’s house, a pair of shears in her pocket.

“Cut it off, please,” Mildred requested calmly. “I need it gone.”

Miss Sarah hesitated, then motioned to a chair.

“Have a seat.”

Mildred’s long locks of auburn hair fell to the ground in gentle wisps. When Miss Sarah finished, she stepped back.

“It looks better, actually,” Miss Sarah said, running her fingers through the short strands to loosen any stray hairs. Mildred’s hair feathered her face now, framing her full cheeks and small eyes.

“Thank you, Miss Sarah,” she said, touching her bare neck with a sense of relief. “That feels much better.”

Mildred transported to the stair landing just outside Tom’s office. A late spring slushstorm had descended on quiet little York, flying past the windows in a vague wall of gray. A fire crackled in the hearth, and several lighted candles dotted the bookshelves and desk. Mildred stopped short. Tom never came early, nor started the fire. Who had started the fire? To her great astonishment, Coven Leader Irene sat behind Tom’s desk.

“I fired Tom last night,” Irene said with her usual abrupt, business-driven air. She wore her long blonde hair away from her face with ivory combs.

“Oh.” Mildred set her heavy armload on a side table. “I see.”

“The Chatham City Covens have a Network audit coming up, and I need a new High Witch.” Irene signed a document before looking right at Mildred. “I want you to take the position.”

“Me?” Mildred asked, straightening. “You want me to be High Witch of York?”

“The position will be for two years. I’ll double your pay, extend your influence to cover the neighboring village of DuPont, and approve funds for you to hire an Assistant out of Coven currency.”

Mildred hesitated. “DuPont is twice the size of York.”

Adds a bit more credibility to the position, she thought. Managing only a hundred witches isn’t all that hard, even at nineteen. Three hundred will sound better.

“And twice the mess,” Irene said with a sigh. “Their High Witch just died, and I don’t trust anyone else to clean it up. I’m not blind, Mildred. I know who really did the work around here. Will you take the job?”

“Forgive me a moment,” Mildred murmured, reaching into her bag to pull out a scroll and begin a list of all the pros and cons. Irene waited with a vague impression of curiosity.

Five minutes later Mildred stared at her hasty list. The experience as High Witch would be invaluable, with a chance to build a professional friendship with Irene. Besides, she’d become quite fond of the witches of York. In truth, she wasn’t ready to leave Mother behind yet. While the job didn’t offer the same prestige as Assistant to a Coven Leader or Council Member, at least she’d have time to grieve.

“I’ll accept the two-year contract,” she said, allowing the scroll to roll back up. “But only for two years.”

Irene stood, her arm extended. Mildred followed suit and they clasped forearms.

“Agreed,” Irene said with a hint of a smile around her steely gray eyes. “Now have a seat. I’ll go over the details of DuPont since you already know York so intimately.”

Council Member Rand resembled a rat with his long, twitchy nose, narrow face, and skinny limbs. The only reason he held a position in the Council was his childhood friendship with Donovan; the two of them were oafish chums. Rand ruled over the sprawling, but sparsely populated, Southern Covens.

Evelyn didn’t particularly care for Rand and his buggy eyes, but she treated him like a friend all the same. There was no telling when she and May could use his influence, for he had contacts that they didn’t.

He stood behind a statue in the middle of the long hallway on the main floor of Chatham Castle, whistling as he picked at his fingernails. Stone walls lined either side, soaring into buttresses several stories high, accentuated by the stained glass windows on the far wall.

Evelyn gritted her teeth. She knew exactly why he lounged around. He’d hired Stella as his new Assistant—based solely on her attractive face and feminine features as he’d told Donovan during a party—and she didn’t want him pouncing on her the moment she arrived. Evelyn’s usual protective instinct toward her friends swelled in her chest.

“Merry meet, Rand,” Evelyn called as she approached, bracing herself for the fishy scent of his breath.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, wetting his lips with a flick of his tongue.

“Meeting my friend, Stella. Your new Assistant, I believe.”

Rand smiled, revealing a mouth of crooked, rotting teeth. “That she is,” he said, sticking four fingers in his vest pocket. “Friend of yours, eh?”

Evelyn narrowed her eyes with threatening promise. “Best friend,” she said, smiling archly. “And someone I’d protect with all my considerable influence and power.”

He recoiled with a frown. In truth, Evelyn wasn’t sure that her power and influence were exactly considerable yet. But Rand would recognize Evelyn only for her position: adopted daughter of, and Assistant to, the second most powerful witch in the Network. He took a step back, appearing to be properly hesitant. She smiled, gratified.

The scratching sound of the main door halted their conversation. Stella entered, carrying so many valises and suitcases that she looked like an overburdened donkey.

“I think it’s time for you to go back to work, don’t you?” Evelyn asked Rand with a saccharine smile. He glowered for a moment but left, mumbling in disappointment. She waited until he’d rounded the corner to start for Stella.

“Merry meet, Evie!” Stella dropped all her luggage to embrace Evelyn. Her bright cheeks felt cold from the spring winds raging outside.

“Goodness, but you packed enough for both of us,” Evelyn said. Noticing a familiar maid a few paces away, she called, “Matilda! Take Miss Stella’s things to her new room.”

“Oh, no,” Stella said, snatching a white valise from the floor. “I can manage. I just need a moment and then—”

“Nonsense. Matilda isn’t doing anything important right now.” Evelyn waved for the maid again. “Come, Matilda. Don’t just stand there like a dead tree. I gave you an order.”

“M-miss Evelyn,” Matilda said, stepping forward, “I’m on an errand for Council Member Porter. If I don’t—”

“I didn’t ask what you were doing.”

“I have a message for Council Member Porter that must be delivered immediately, Miss Evelyn and I—”

“Then transport it to him.”

Matilda’s eyes turned down. Evelyn shook her head in disapproval, much the way May had often done when Evelyn first started as her pupil. Evelyn had found the disappointment motivating and hoped Matilda would do the same. Transportation was such a simple magic to learn but so few staff members did so. Why not? Because poor people didn’t want to change their stations or improve, just as May had always told her. Seeing it in person disheartened and infuriated her. Wasn’t this the same ignorance that killed Mama?

“There’s no one to teach me that magic, Miss Evelyn,” Matilda whispered.

Stella stepped forward. “Let the poor girl finish her errand, Evie. You and I can take these bags to my room together.”

I must be firm with them, Evelyn reminded herself with a deep breath. The poor need a strong leader.

“Matilda, take Stella’s bags this instant, or I shall fire you on the spot.”

“Oh please, Miss Evelyn!” Matilda cried, her eyes filling with tears. “I’m already going to be in trouble as it is! Council Member Porter is waiting. Please have mercy! I’ve two children at home. If I don’t deliver this right away, Council Member Porter will have me fired!”

“Yes, good. Let’s use logic to solve this problem. No matter what you do, you’re going to lose your job,” Evelyn said. “Since you are already here, you may as well take Stella’s bags. If you don’t mess anything else up, I’ll put in a good word for you with Porter. As Assistant to the High Priestess, I have considerable sway with the Council Members.”

Matilda froze.

Stella extended her hand. “Hand the letter to me, Matilda. I’ll transport it for you since you’ve been stuck here speaking with us. Porter will get it on time.”

Matilda hesitated, glancing between Evelyn and Stella, then finally relinquished the envelope. It remained in Stella’s hand for only a moment before it disappeared. Evelyn let out a long-suffering sigh. How could she ever enact change for the good of the Network when witches like Stella catered to the needy laziness of the servants?

An uphill battle, she thought, recalling something May had said. I shall have to fight it one day at a time.

“Well, you’re a lucky girl, Matilda. Come with me, Stell.” Evelyn grabbed Stella’s arm in a move that brooked no arguments. “We have catching up to do. Matilda will take your bags.”

“No, Evelyn. I shall take my own bags, thank you.”

“I don’t mind, Miss,” Matilda said, curtsying, one wary eye on Evelyn. “I-I’d love to be of service, especially after you helped me.”

“Oh, no. You don’t have to—”

“Come, Stella.”

Ignoring the look of apology Stella sent the idiot maid, Evelyn took her by the elbow and steered her to the grand staircase.

“I’m sorry you had to see that little disagreement,” Evelyn said with genuine regret. “If you don’t keep the servants in line here, they walk all over you. Trust me. I’ve lived here my whole life, and it’s an increasing problem. Let’s not talk about Matilda. I need to talk to you about Rand.”

“Rand?” Stella asked, appearing startled by the swift change of subject. “What about him?”

Evelyn smoothed her velvet green bodice and tossed her flowing red hair over her shoulder. “He’s a bit of a lech. I can guarantee that it’s not your experience as Assistant to Coven Leader Irene that got you this job.”

Stella smiled ruefully. “It’s my looks.”

“How did you know?”

“Irene told me. She also had my contract drawn up by her own legal witch. It says that Rand can’t fire me for five years unless he has physical proof or at least three witnesses stating that I’ve been lax and not done my job. That way he can’t fire me for not letting him feel me up. So, as long as I work hard and watch his hands, there’s no reason that this won’t be a wonderful opportunity.”

Stella’s eyes sparkled with mischief. Evelyn tilted her head back and laughed. “I should never have doubted! Is Dale very upset that you’ll be here at the castle with Rand?”

“Not at all! In fact, he taught me a few incantations to keep Rand’s wandering hands away should he try to take liberties. Dale just finished his Captain of the Guardians training and is assigned to a contingent in the Eastern Covens.”

Evelyn smiled wide. “Wonderful, Stella. Just wonderful. It is so nice to see you again. Shall we go visit the kitchens? Mrs. F promised me she’d set aside a little treat to refresh you once you arrived.”

“Yes!” Stella cried. “It won’t be the same without Milly, but it will be wonderful to see Mrs. F again.”

“Now let’s talk more about your job and how I can help you in it,” Evelyn said, taking her arm and steering her toward the back staircase. “Being Assistant to a Council Member isn’t too far below what I do, is it? I’ll make sure your life at the castle is wonderful.”