Page 64 of Bewitched By the Wicked Witch
Before I could formulate a suitably withering responseto my traitorous familiar, I noticed something odd about the rubble pattern near where my kitchen used to be.
"There," I said, pointing to a depression in the debris. "The elevator should be right under there." We worked together to clear away the collapsed timber and stone, finally revealing the hidden door beneath. "The enchantments held through everything."
Callum let out a low whistle of appreciation as he joined me. "Impressive spell work. Your paranoid past self was clearly onto something."
"Paranoid and prepared are entirely different things," I replied with wounded dignity, pressing the hidden activation sequence. "Though given recent events, perhaps a little paranoia was entirely justified."
The elevator doors slid open with their familiar soft chime, revealing the pristine interior that had somehow survived both fire and magical investigation. As we descended into my secret underground sanctuary, I felt a renewed sense of stability wash over me.
"Home sweet underground home" I said, gesturing around the cozy subterranean space with its extensive bookshelves, computer equipment, and carefully organized magical supplies. "Less dramatically gothic than the surface hut, but considerably more fireproof."
Callum settled into my underground domain with familiar ease, his gaze sweeping over the comfortable reading nooks and well-stocked brewing station with the appreciation of someone who'd grown to understand the organized magical chaos that defined my living space.
"Still very you," he said with a smile that suggested this was entirely a compliment. "Practical, mysterious, andslightly concerning for anyone with claustrophobic tendencies."
"I prefer 'efficiently designed for optimal privacy,'" I corrected, settling into my favorite reading chair and finally allowing the exhaustion of our recent adventures to catch up with me. "Though we should probably discuss what happens next, assuming we survive whatever revelations are about to unfold."
The weight of unfinished business settled between us like an unwelcome but necessary guest. Callum took the chair across from me, his expression growing serious as he prepared to address the elephant in the room—or in this case, the five years of abandonment that we'd been carefully dancing around.
"I need to tell you why I really left," he said quietly, running his hands through his hair in the gesture I remembered from our youth. "Not the sanitized version I gave you before, but the complete, unvarnished truth."
I settled back in my chair, bracing myself for whatever revelation was coming. "I'm listening. And I should probably mention that if this explanation involves more noble self-sacrifice, I'm upgrading your curse to something truly creative."
He managed a weak smile at that. "Fair warning noted. The High Council didn't just recruit me, Sage. They threatened you. Said they had enough evidence of unlicensed magical practice to put you through a Trial of Fire if I didn't cooperate."
The words hit me like ice water, though I managed to keep my expression neutral. "A Trial of Fire," I repeated slowly, "is execution disguised as legal procedure."
"They would have burned you alive, marked you as a dangerous rogue practitioner, and used your death as an example to others," he confirmed, his voice thick with old fury. "I told them you weren't a threat, that you'd never hurt anyone who didn't richly deserve it. They didn't care."
I processed this information with the same calm I'd cultivated during years of being Old Hollows' designated scapegoat. "So you accepted their job to protect me from bureaucratic mutilation."
"I told them I'd monitor you, report on your activities, keep you contained if necessary," he said, self-loathing clear in every word. "But I stayed away completely - didn't even dare check on you though I wanted to so many times. I was terrified that any contact might put you in more danger."
"And you never considered discussing this with me?" I asked with deceptive mildness that would have warned anyone familiar with my temperament.
"I was twenty-two and terrified," he admitted. "I thought I was being heroically self-sacrificing. It never occurred to me that I was making life-altering decisions about your future without consulting you."
I considered this revelation, turning it over in my mind like a puzzle piece that finally explained years of confusion and hurt. "You know what the truly irritating part is?" I said finally.
"What?"
"I would have gone with you," I said simply. "If you'd trusted me enough to explain the situation, I would have left Old Hollows. We could have figuredit out together, possibly while causing considerable chaos for the High Council in the process."
The pain that crossed his face was almost enough to make me regret my honesty. Almost.
"I know that now," he whispered. "I've been questioning my choices for five years, but I didn't realize what a monumental idiot I'd been until I came back to town and figured out you were the one who cursed me with magical erectile dysfunction. At that point, I figured that particular ship had sailed."
Despite everything, I felt my lips twitch with dark amusement. "To be fair, that was rather inspired revenge magic. Very creative problem-solving under emotional duress."
"It was diabolical," he agreed with grudging admiration. "Though I have to ask, was the anatomical enhancement really necessary? The fainting was embarrassing enough without the additional... complications."
"I was twenty-two and heartbroken," I reminded him. "Proportional response wasn't exactly my priority. Besides, I designed it to wear off once we were both over each other."
"Which explains why it lasted five years," he said ruefully.
"Which explains why it lasted five years," I agreed with dark satisfaction.
The comfortable silence that followed was broken by his next revelation, delivered with the careful tone of someone approaching dangerous territory.
