Maggie waited through two more people. Then, the doors at the back opened and in walked Prospero and Ellie, looking remarkably cozy. They separated, and Ellie came to sit beside Maggie.
“Well, you look like someone who ignored her own advice,” Maggie whispered.
Ellie shrugged, but she was smiling. Her gaze darted toward the Victorian witch. “Decisions were made.”
“I’ll miss you,” Maggie said, no longer whispering.
“You won’t remember me,” Ellie pointed out.
“In my heart, I think I’ll miss you. We could’ve been excellent friends.” Maggie glanced at Sondre, who was watching her, and hoped he understood that she meant him, too.
“Margaret Lynch,” a voice echoed through the waiting room. “Elleanor Brandeau.”
It was odd that they were both called in together. Maggie glanced back at Sondre.
He shrugged.
The door opened.
Maggie reached over and squeezed Ellie’s hand. “Let’s do this.”
Together, they walked into the room. It was an odd assemblage of people, ranging from those in towering hats who were somber faced to those who looked so anxious there were no other details Maggie could notice.
The witches were all seated such that they were looking down on them as they stood side by side. Something about it reminded Maggie of being in court, and that made her more confident.
“I’m leaving Crenshaw,” Maggie said. “No need to debate. I want to be siphoned. No matter the risk. My son is there, and no amount of magic is more important than that.”
Several witches exchanged looks.
“Siphoning you could kill you, Ms. Lynch,” one said.
“I’d rather be dead than without my son.” Maggie realized she sounded melodramatic, but it was the raw truth. If she didn’t have a son, she would stay, but Craig was her guiding star, her reason, her heart. “I absolve you of guilt if I do die.”
Before anyone else could reply, Ellie said, “I, er, don’t know long-term, but for this round, I’d like to stay.” Her hands were held loosely at her side, and the typically tense librarian looked uncommonly relaxed.
She’s staying for Prospero.
Maggie looked back at the Victorian witch, who was staring at Ellie with the edge of a smile on her lips. Maggie pressed her lips together tightly. She didn’t trust that woman any more than she trusted the rest of them.
“Siphoning you would certainly kill you, Miss Brandeau,” the chief witch said, drawing Maggie’s attention back to Ellie. “I would recommend you make a permanent choice to stay.”
Ellie tilted her head. “As it’s my decision, my life, my body, I’ll make my own damn decisions. Fortoday,I am willing to stay, but if I do, I expect a bit more autonomy. I’ll not accept being trapped in a castle like a Rapunzel or Sleeping Beauty.”
Her hands were no longer held loosely. Ellie had crossed her arms over her chest in a clearly judgmental pose.
“My decision is permanent,” Maggie blurted out. “Where do I go to get siphoned?”
For a moment, no one replied. Then the chief witch answered, “After we finish these meetings, those who are to be siphoned will be gathered.” He paused, stroked his face absently, and then his voice dropped to the kind reserved for bad news. “Ms. Lynch, do you recall the accident?”
“Yes.”
“Your son did not survive, Ms. Lynch.” The chief witch held her gaze as he lied to her face.
Maggie was baffled that he could utter the lie so convincingly.I can tell when someone lies.She knew damn well that this was a lie, but it didn’t make her stomach tense or skin itch the ways lies did.
“Craig is no longer in that world or ours,” the chief witch continued. “I am sorry for your loss, but I would ask you to consider your choice further. There is no sense returning to someone no longer there.”
Maggie opened her mouth, but no words came. She glanced at Ellie, who quickly wrapped her in an embrace. The act of doing so hid Maggie’s face from the assembled witches.
