Page 124 of Wickedly Ever After
The gates to Castle Peerless stood open.
Hector guided Napoleon into the courtyard, slowing him to a trot. Ida, still dazed and sore, glanced around at her former castle. While the walls shone, white and sun-kissed as usual, the castle itself had an air of neglect about it, like it had stood vacant for years, not a week and a half. The daily papers had been delivered. They sat in a neat stack in the doorman’s hut.
Hector dismounted first and then held his arms up to catch her as she slid down after him.
“How long do we have?” she asked, refusing to look at the glorious tangle of red roses blooming divinely on every wall.
“Cear will hold off inquiry for at least a day as I requested,” Hector said. “Maybe even longer, depending on how long Annabeth and Rupert decide to pout in their resort getaway.” He caught Scary Mary and tied her up next to Napoleon. “Nevertheless, I don’t think we can dillydally.”
No, they couldn’t, although she thought Cear might give them far more than a day from what the elemental had said.Opportunity still remains if you are willing to take it.“I—I just have a few things I need to do first,” she said. “I won’t be long.”
***
No one was in the castle at all—no housekeepers, no maids, no manservants. Even the kitchen was utterly deserted, although itwas spotless as always. Hari’s mother, unwilling to take a vacation with anything undone, had scoured them before leaving. Ida went through the drawers in the linen closet, picking out the thinnest ones. She would use those to bag up cuttings of her favorite plants. She could still give them life in new ground, although now that her immortality was gone, she expected her vivomancy to diminish over the rest of her life. But at least this way, she’d always have a memory of who she’d once been—Ida, Good Witch of the North, now Ida Moonshadow. Most everything else would have to stay behind. She certainly couldn’t take all her books, or her hat collection, or more than six or seven pairs of shoes. But there was one thing she absolutely had to have.
She was pulling it out from under the bed when she heard the downstairs door open. “Ida?” Hector called from the entryway. “Where in the name of magic have you got to?”
“Third floor, turn left at the landing, second door on your right.”
She set the box with her heart on the bed and turned to the closet to get her travel bag. She could shrink a few things down to fit—the magic mirror, her favorite dresses, the ever-growing manuscript of her memoirs, and Hari’s hats. He wouldn’t be happy if she forgot his hats.
“What are these?” Hector glanced at the stack of pink, yellow, and purple tea towels on her dresser.
“For cuttings from the garden. I wanted to replace some of the things you lost, not that they are wicked plants, but perhaps you can breed from them. Maybe turn the snapdragons into proper snapping dragons?”
“Possibly. Can I help?”
“I’m almost done.” She glanced around. “You know, in a way, it’s for the best.”
“How do you mean?” Hector sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling the box toward him and glancing at the embossed markings curiously.
“Well, imagine if I’d worked another hundred years and then retired. It would have taken the rest of my life to figure out how to downsize. This way, I can only pack essentials.”
He grunted an assent. “I suppose.”
“Hector, I know it’s not what you wanted—”
“No, it’s not.” He rose and paced the length of the room and back. “Ida, what will you do now?”
She picked up her heart box. “Honestly, I haven’t decided. I had thought about going home—my home when I was a child. Thought I might explore the area, find a spot I can enchant with protection, build a house, live happily ever after. Of course, there’s Hari and Tinbit’s wedding to attend first, and I’ll need to pick up my books from your castle, and I really should find Hari’s mother and tell her Hari has found his happiness. And after that, I’ll try to find my own happy ending.” She opened the box.
Hector stopped pacing. “Your heart,” he said, gazing down at the ruby-red organ gently palpitating in the box. “You—you never got rid of it.”
“That’s right,” she said. “And I’ll need it inside of me now, which means you’ll need this back.” She reached inside herself and took his heart out of her chest. “It’s not a bad heart, Hector, although sometimes I think it’s a rather foolish one.”
He took it and held it for a long moment before glancing at her face. “Sebastian.”
“Really, Hector, you were going to let a ghoul eat it?”
He half smiled. “It seemed the best option at the time.”
“Did it?” She folded her arms over her empty chest. “Tell me something, Hector Prim. You could have killed anything to resurrect Tinbit, couldn’t you? A forest, the swamp, those obnoxious mire imps, but you chose yourself. Did you think you could force me into staying on the Council by sacrificing your immortality?”
He turned away. “Not…not entirely—”
“Gods, Hector.” Ida sighed. “You did.”
“I said not entirely! Ididwant you in charge of the Council, I won’t deny that. You understood earlier than I did that Happily-Ever-After should end; you had a clear vision of what you wanted—”
