As Agatha had said, dinner began promptly at eight.
"Cora, Willow," Stella called upstairs for them to come down as soon as the big hands in every clock in the house were no longer striking seven fifty-nine PM.
They both came down at a snail's pace. Cora led the way. Their entire house smelled decadent with Agatha's spices and best herbs, like they'd been transported into the kitchen of a vegetarian restaurant. The meals had already been dished out into their best plates and bowls and transported into the dining room.
"Here we go." Cora pushed open the dining room door.
"You really outdid yourselves," said Blythe. "This looks heavenly." She waltzed around the room, eyeing the dishes Agatha had prepared.
Out on the table were all kinds of non-meat meals, from pasta shells stuffed with spinach to roasted potatoes, and cheesy vegetable chowder. The lit candles on the table pulled everything together and brought a soft glow to the otherwise dark room.
"Well don't just stand there," Stella said to Cora. "Come in, come in."
Cora had paused at the door, taking in the scene in front of her. The grownups stood behind their chairs waiting for her and Willow to join them so they could all sit and dig in.
Cora left the door with Willow following. She sat next to her mother. Willow sat next to Agatha, Blythe sat on Stella's right, and Mariam on Cora's left. There was one empty chair at the table, Tilda's.
"My Tilly isn't feeling well," Blythe said, as she folded her napkin across her lap.
"Do you want me to go check on her?" Stella asked, while doing the same with her napkin.
Cora and Willow had a silent conversation with their eyes again, asking each other what they should do. Cora's eyes said, "We lie, lie, lie."
They had no other choice. Cora wanted to keep Blythe's wrath at bay as long as possible. As the food began to be passed around and the grownups discussed Mariam's taste in dining room décor, Cora's nerves settled enough for her to enjoy her meal, which was delicious as Agatha's recipes often were. She was making her way through a second helping of the vegetable chowder when she felt it, a brush against her leg. She jumped, pushing her chair back.
"What's wrong with you?" Mariam asked.
Cora, not knowing what else to do, picked up her fork and dropped it. "I dropped my fork," she said and widened her eyes at Willow, telling her that Tilda was under the table.
Willow dropped her fork as well, and they disappeared underneath the table to retrieve their cutlery. Past her mother and Blythe's legs, Cora caught sight of Tilda. Was she smiling at her? Could mice smile? Before she could do anything, Tilda was climbing the leg of her chair.
"What in the world are you girls doing under there?" Mariam's face appeared underneath the table. "Get up and finish your meals."
Willow and Cora's response was drowned by a loud scream from Blythe. Cora wished to stay under the table until the end of dinner, but she had no choice now. She got up. Willow did the same. Tilda had climbed onto the table, onto her dish, as if waiting to be served.
Blythe's bottom lip trembled. "Filth," she said. "Get it away from the food."
Willow, who was closest, inched towards Tilda. When she was close enough to get her, she dived but Tilda leaped out of her reach, scurrying around the bowl of stuffed broccoli shells. Blythe leapt back. Stella swatted at Tilda with her napkin. Cora chewed on her nails. Mouse Tilda kept running, dashing around glasses of wine. She came to a stop at the clam chowder. On all fours, she watched them, her small, pink nose twitched.
"What is it doing?" Blythe asked. She was now at the back wall, as far away from her daughter as possible. "Don't just stand there," she said. "Catch it."
Willow dived again, knocking her glass of grape cider over. Tilda leapt away from her, falling into the chowder. Blythe yelped.
"There goes the chowder," Mariam said.
"Enough." Stella slapped the table. The glasses creaked from the sound of her voice. "It's a mouse for goodness sake. There's no need to make such a scene." She said this to Willow, but Blythe tugged down her dress, pulling herself together. She returned to the table.
As Mouse Tilda struggled to get out of the chowder, Cora felt sorry for her. Stella sighed. She held up her hand to do a spell. Before she could, Cora grabbed her arm. "Mom, wait. There something I need to tell everybody." She let go of her mother. The only sound in the room was the squeaks coming from Tilda as she struggled to pull herself free. "That isn't a mouse," said Cora. She stared at the spilled cider on the table. "Tilda and I got into a fight today and I accidently turned her into a mouse. But it was an accident," she said.
"Tilly," Blythe said, her lips trembling once more.
At the sound of her name, Tilda stopped struggling. And maybe they wouldn't have believed Cora if it weren't for what happened next. Tilda made two tiny squeaks at her mom, as if to say, "Yes, Mother."
Blythe's eyes rolled to the back of her head. She tipped backwards. Mariam snapped her fingers before Blythe hit the floor and she hovered there. Stella's hands were fists.
"Mom," Cora said.
Stella held up her hand. "Go to your room. I'll deal with you later."
Cora pushed in her chair, doing as she was told. "I'm soâ" She had begun to apologize but saw the anger flash across her mother's face.
"You too," Stella said to Willow.
"But it wasn't me," said Willow.
"One more word from you Willow and I swear." Stella slammed her fist onto the table.
Cora held the door for Willow. Willow pushed past her. Before the dining room door closed, Cora saw Mariam pick Tilda up by the tail.
In her room, she listened as hard as she could to the grownups downstairs. Minutes had passed and Blythe hadn't woken yet. They also didn't know how to change Tilda back.
"You've got to be kidding me." Stella made the whole house rumble. "A house full of sorceresses and no one knows how to help the poor girl."
"It's more complicated than that." Mariam's voice was calmer. "We can only change her back if she wants to change. It seems she doesn't."
What Stella said next echoed Cora's thoughts. "Why in the world would she want to be a mouse? What are we supposed to tell her mother?"
"This is one of those rare occasions we'll have to be honest," said Agatha.
Cora heard her mother pacing, or someone was. She pulled her pillow over her head, not wanting to hear anymore. There was a knock at her door. "Go away," she said.
Willow opened anyway. "By the way," she said, "I blame you if mom doesn't let me go out with Oliver."
Cora felt bad enough already. She kept her pillow over her head. Soon enough, Willow left. This was the perfect time for her to run away. In fact, if her room wasn't two stories up, she would have snuck out to sit on the front steps to let the autumn air cool her nerves. She could do another spell, one that would wipe everyone's memory.
"Yeah, right," she said into her pillow.
Even if she could pull off such a spell, more magic would make things worse, not better. Instead, she thought about Beau's mouth, the way his lips were slightly freckled. She thought they would taste as sweet as him. Cora let her thoughts carry her away far from the Emerson house.
Then her mother screamed, "Cora Elizabeth Emerson, get your butt down here right now."
Cora tossed the pillow across her room. It bounced off the wall. Downstairs, Blythe had woken. Mariam had given her a cup of tea. Blythe's eyes were red and puffy. She didn't look at Cora. She didn't look at any of them. Her eyes were on the tiny, brown mouse now enclosed in one of the Emerson's plastic containers. They'd made sure to poke holes in the top, but Tilda continued to claw at the plastic anyway.
Stella had already poured herself another cup of wine, her fingernail's clinking against the glass. Cora averted her gaze to their beige carpet.
Stella sighed. "Do you have anything to say for yourself?"
There was a slight pause between every word. This was worse than her yelling. When she talked like that, it meant she'd surpassed anger and was disappointed. It was one thing to toy with those who weren't like them but turning one of their own into a mouse that was against what they stood for. Sorceresses stuck together because there weren't many of them left. As a mouse, Tilda wouldn't be able to do much of anything.
Cora raised her head. "I'm so sorry, Mrs. Gray."
Blythe let out a sob. Some of her tears fell into her tea. Mariam took the cup out of her trembling hands. "My Tilly." Blythe got off the couch onto her knees in front of the coffee table. "Look what they've done to you."
Cora's eyes burned, but she wouldn't let herself cry. She wiped them with her fingers. If anything should have made Tilda want to change back it should have been the sight of her mother sobbing in front of her, but mouse Tilda simply sniffed around the container.
"Maybe we should call Ted," Agatha said.
"And tell him what?" asked Stella. "That my daughter turned his daughter into a mouse?" She tapped her wine glass. Clink, clink, clink.
Blythe wailed, and the small rose plant on the coffee table began to wilt. Its petals dropped with each one of Blythe's tears. A mother's love was the most potent magic.
Agatha, who sat near Blythe, attempted to comfort her, but Blythe swatted her hand away.
"Maybe I can change her back," Cora said, coming forward.
"Stay away from my Tilly," Blythe said, in a low, harsh voice.
She picked Tilda up and staggered to her feet. "You people are all crazy," she said. "I'm sure you had this planned all along." She waved her finger. "You were jealous of my Tilly," Blythe said, this time directed at Cora. "That's why you did this." She held up Tilda. "Rest assured you won't get what you want." Blythe marched towards the door, leaving Cora feeling as if she'd slapped her.
"Blythe." Stella held out her hand to stop her.
Blythe spun. "You've always wanted what I have, Stella. You couldn't stand that I have someone and all you have is this." She waved her hand at Cora, Mariam, and Agatha. "You're pathetic," Blythe said. "I have every right to... to..." She sneered at Cora. "But I won't. I am a dignified Woman." She tugged down her dress.
Mariam laughed. "What you did to that man wasn't dignified."
Blythe quite literally clutched her pearls. She lifted one finger. Mariam's eyebrows rose. She didn't get up from her seat on the couch, but her hands were poised, ready for whatever Blythe threw her way.
Blythe curled her fingers into a fist. "You would know."
Mariam didn't retort.
"Can't we talk about this?" Stella asked.
"I'm done talking," said Blythe.
She disappeared down the hall. Stella put down her wine and followed her. Cora heard her mother call after Blythe so many times her own cheeks warmed, humiliated for her mother who'd been reduced to begging. The front door closed, and Stella came back. She didn't have to say anything to Cora for her to know that what she'd done was unforgivable.
"If you ask me," said Mariam, "that girl deserved it."
"No one asked you," said Stella so loudly that her wine glass, which she'd picked up again, cracked down the middle.
Cora made for the door.
"Don't think I'm finished with you," Stella said.
But despite her words, Cora didn't hear from Stella that night or the following morning. Stella didn't come down for breakfast.
"She needs time." Agatha had tried to reassure her.
Although, not even Willow spoke to Cora, as if she hadn't had any part in the whole fiasco, as if the whole thing had been solely Cora's fault. Hadn't she been standing up for her. Cora would have preferred to be grounded than have her mother ignore her. She decided to do the same, keeping to her room for most of the day.
Truthfully, she was ashamed of herself. Because of her, Tilda might never be human again. Every Sorceress knew that the longer you remained in animal form the harder it would be to reverse the spell. Even if Blythe managed to turn Tilda back. She might still possess mouse qualities, she might have a tail. small fuzzy round ears, or a tiny, pink nose. There was a time when Cora would have found all of this amusing.
Now she found it grim. She'd ruined Tilda's life.
Everything that had happened in the last few weeks made her feel as if she'd had it coming, that fate had finally turned on her because of her failure to do what she'd needed to from the start. Maybe she'd taken too long, and this was her doom.
On top of ruining things with Beau she'd ruined her mother's relationship with her close and only friend. That was years of friendship gone down the drain all because of her magic. Cora picked up her phone and clicked to her contacts.
She hadn't seen or heard from Beau in a week and hated playing guessing games on how his grandmother was doing. A wicked sorceress was never supposed to apologize to their victims but considering her current situation she wanted to see him face to face, to explain things she'd never wanted to explain before.
The idea of seeing him warmed her, but she dropped her phone onto her nightstand as punishment for her actions. If her mother wouldn't then she'd punish herself. She'd stay in the rest of the weekend with the books she owned to keep her entertained and her stuffed bat Plum to keep her company. She could use a nap about now, a long one. Was it too much to ask for things to go back to normal when she woke again? The problem was every time she closed her eyes, there lay Mrs. Campbell perpetually frozen in time.
And Beau, trying to rouse his grandmother to no avail.
At around four PM, Cora woke with a start. She'd fallen asleep with a book open in her lap. She wiped the drool from her mouth and slid out of bed. The sky had dimmed, making it appear much later in the day than it was.
She opened her door. "Mom? Willow?" She'd had the strangest dream in which she'd turned her whole family into mice. Willow's door was closed.
Cora knocked. "Willow, can we talk?"
There was no answer on the other side.
"Come on, Willow. I'll beg Mom to let you go out if you want me to."
There was still no answer. Willow wasn't usually so quiet. Cora opened the door. "Huh," she said. Willow wasn't in there. Her window stood open, letting in a gust of cold air. Cora strode across the room to close it.
"What are you doing in here?" Willow's voice stopped her mid-step.
She turned to face her. While Cora still wore her pajamas from this morning, Willow wore a striped black and white blouse and jeans. Her feet were bare. "I wanted to see if you still wanted to go ice skating," Cora said, picking at the loose fabric in her pajamas.
Willow sat on her bed. "Don't bother."
"Why not?" Cora wrapped her arms around herself as a cold breeze ruffled her top. "We can go next weekend."
"Look," said Willow, "I already told Oliver I'll meet him today and I'm meeting him today."
Cora sat next to her; her leg curled underneath her. "You're going alone?" There was no way she was letting Willow go by herself, no matter how mature Willow thought she was, especially since the days were darker now.
"Not by myself," Willow said. "With Oliver."
Had I been this precocious at her age?
She didn't remember wanting guys to notice her until she'd turned thirteen. Willow was almost thirteen now. "Willow, you can't sneak out," she said.
"Says who? Mom hasn't left her room. Who's going to stop me? You?"
She said it in such a way that it hurt Cora's heart. "There are things you need to know about dating," she started.
Willow laughed.
"Well," said Cora. "There are things you definitely don't need to know."
"Like what?" Willow sounded sincere.
Cora stood. "Things that you're too young for, Willow. I don't agree that you shouldn't be friends with this guy, but Mom's right you can't go on your own. I'm coming with you."
Willow shot up her hands. "Fine."
"Really?" Cora didn't think it would be so easy. Willow would usually put up a fight when she wanted her way.
"Yeah," Willow said. "But I have rules, one rule actually."
Cora sat again. "What is it?"
"You can come, but you have to pretend we don't know each other. That means you have to keep several feet away. Okay?"
Cora considered this. "Okay," she said after a while. She got up. "We'll leave in an hour."
She held out her fist so Willow could bump it and she did.
"You're so corny," she said.
"Nope, just a big sister." Cora smiled.
She hadn't always been so thrilled about being a big sister.
On the day Willow came home, she remembered her grandmother sitting her on the couch, the same one they had to this day, clutching the white and black balloons Agatha had told her to hold. They'd dressed her all in black because it was a special day. When her mother brought Willow home from the hospital, while Agatha and Mariam cooed over her, Cora hadn't wanted anything to do with the small, pink bundle.
She thought Willow looked like a ruddy walrus that made funny sounds and when she wasn't doing that was boring. All she wanted was her father. He hadn't come home from the hospital with her mother, soon she realized he wouldn't come home at all and being so young she'd blamed it all on Willow.
Stella had called Willow a blessing from the all-powerful father and Cora had thought her the opposite, a squealing, fussy thing that took her father away. Once, out of earshot, she'd whispered into Willow's ear, "I hate you."
It wasn't her fondest memory. She was glad now Willow had no memory of how terrible she'd been or of their father. Cora only knew his first name: Neil. If she let herself think about him, she saw a man so tall she had to crane her neck all the way back to see his face. Neil had a mustache, wore brown leather shoes, and smelled like mowed grass and pipe smoke. He'd been so handsome, at least to Cora's five-year-old eyes.
And he'd been, without a doubt, in love with her and Stella. Cora didn't let herself think it: Her mother drove him away because men weren't good for the Emersons.
That didn't stop her from missing him.
Before she got dressed, she plucked up her courage and sent Beau a text. She'd been thinking about him all dayâwhat she would say to him if he agreed to meet her.
Hey! We need to talk. Is it okay if you meet me somewhere? There are some things I want to say.
Her phone buzzed while she was slipping out of her pajama bottoms. She tugged them the rest of the way off, tossed them over her clothes rack, and grabbed her phone.
Beau texted: There are things I need to say too.
Cora texted back: Okay. Can you meet me at the entrance of Viridis Park in an hour?
Viridis Park was the largest in Thorne Point, and the only one where they could go ice skating.
At least he agrees we need to talk.
In her seventeen years, Cora had been so careful to not make her magic known. Tonight, she'd have to do the unthinkable and confess the truth, maybe then Beau would forgive her. Maybe then the weight on her chest would shrivel to nothing. Beau needed to know who and what she was, not someone who went around harming old ladiesâbut a wicked sorceress, prone to turning people who angered her into tiny rodents.