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“Hecate!”
Hecate, in the process of stoking her fire, gives a jolt and nearly falls over into the flames as the door to her room flies open. In the doorway is framed a witch who is blonde and pink-clad and currently knotting her hands together in front of her fiercely. “Hecate,” she says again, breathlessly.
“Pippa,” Hecate says, trying to ignore the rush of feeling that prickles to the edges of her skin, the rush she always feels when she sees Pippa unexpectedly. “I seem to remember you knew how to knock, once.”
Pippa takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I just… it just…”
Pippa looks like she’s fighting back tears, and Hecate knows she can’t watch that right now. “I assume you heard about the difficulty earlier today.”
“Difficulty? Hecate, your Founding Stone froze. The school froze. You froze.”
“Temporarily,” Hecate says, trying for the distant, formal tone that is most comfortable for her when dealing with Pippa – and with most people, but none more so than Pippa. “I assure you I am recovered now.”
“Are you?”
“Do I appear to be standing in the middle of a block of ice?”
Pippa’s eyes narrow. “Then you won’t mind walking back to your chair for me.”
Oh, toad warts. “I am perfectly comfortable here,” Hecate says, then immediately belies the words with a shiver and a sway.
Pippa rolls her eyes. “Yes, I can see that. Come here, let me help you –”
“I –” Hecate raises a hand to transfer to the armchair, then hesitates; the fact of the matter is she’s not quite sure her magic is up to transferring right now. Instead she tries to pass the gesture off as an attempt to smooth a nonexistent loose lock of hair behind her ear, then crosses the room on her own, disdaining Pippa’s outstretched arm. She stumbles despite herself, feeling the familiar ache spreading through her bones. She glances back at Pippa, who has missed none of this.
Pippa comes into the room, sits in Hecate’s desk chair, and pulls it to face Hecate. “Another pain flare-up, then?” she says, her tone matter-of-fact.
Hecate can’t see that there’s much point in lying outright at this stage. “A minor one. The effect of the ice was not salutary.”
“Hiccup, please.” Hecate glances up sharply at Pippa’s use of the old nickname. “Let me help you warm up.”
“I’m perfectly fine now.”
“Not from everything I’ve read about magic returning after this sort of freeze. The younger students may bounce back immediately, but for witches our age –”
“Honestly, Pippa, I am neither five nor one hundred and five years old.”
“Just let me help.” And before Hecate can do anything, Pippa has reached out to take Hecate’s hand in her own. She begins massaging the palm, and golden light flows from her fingertips, encircling Hecate’s hand, then slowly beginning to twine down her wrist. Hecate closes her eyes, abruptly feeling close to tears herself. It feels so good, Pippa’s magic skimming across her skin, then beginning to sink in deeper. She’s been more overstrained than she realized. And it’s Pippa.
“I fail to understand why you felt the need to come to the castle, let alone come barging in here,” she says ungraciously after a moment, keeping her eyes closed lest they betray her. “There was no need.”
Hecate can hear Pippa’s eyeroll in her voice. “There was every need. For one thing, I knew if I didn’t come you’d never tell me it had happened at all.”
“I’m sure you were able to get the details of what happened from Miss Cackle,” Hecate says stiffly. “You do not need any information from me.”
“Oh, Hiccup.” Pippa’s voice is tender. “I want to know what happened to you. Not to the school. To you. Miss Cackle couldn’t tell me that. I want to know what it was like for you.”
“I –” Hecate has to stop to compose herself. “I fail to see the relevance –”
“The relevance is that I care, Hiccup!” Pippa bursts out. The web of glowing light that’s been slowly building around Hecate’s arm surges up in a rush, then falls away. “Honestly, can’t you ever meet me halfway? Making me go through this charade, time and again, as though we never –” She cuts herself off suddenly.
Hecate is appalled to find herself crying. She swipes a fast hand across her eyes, sniffs hard once, tries to pretend nothing is happening. When Pippa begins speaking again, she knows at once that she hasn’t fooled her.
“Tell you what,” Pippa says, and her voice is gentle again. “Let’s pretend we’re back in school. Just for a few minutes. Here.” She raises a hand and gestures, and suddenly Hecate feels her constricting black dress disappear; the soft, fleecy fabric of her favorite pajamas back during her years at Cackle’s lie soft against her skin. “That’s better,” Pippa says, now clad herself in a lavender dressing gown Hecate hasn’t seen in decades. “Now. That bun can’t be comfortable. Let me take down your hair.”
“I –” Hecate has a very bad feeling about this, but before she can formulate a reply Pippa is behind her, gently removing hair pins, untwining Hecate’s tresses. The warming magic is still flowing through her fingers, gliding along Hecate’s scalp, helping to steady her.
“Now,” Pippa says, and as warmth spreads through Hecate’s head and down into her neck, Hecate could almost really believe they were fifteen years old again, playing with one another’s hair and chatting about lessons. “Tell me what happened to you.”
And Hecate, after a brief moment, does.
Her hair comes down, bit by bit, as she tells Pippa the real story of what had happened that day. The sickening feeling of her magic going awry. The horror of losing it completely. The loneliness and the fear of being the one sent from the school with the task of saving it, without the least idea how to do it. And then the worst of it. Realizing she had to relinquish her magic to save the school. Announcing it – and then hesitating. Allowing Ethel Hallow to step forward. Standing there as Ethel declared her intention to give up her magic. Standing there as Ethel wasted time preening and grandstanding. Standing there as ice enveloped her. Standing there frozen.
“I do not see how I can ever respect myself again,” she concludes finally, voice low. Her hair lies smooth against her back now; Pippa’s fingers comb through it, sending little currents of warmth into her spine. “To allow a student even to suggest making such a gesture – to be so unutterably selfish –”
“What do you think you did that was selfish?” Pippa asks, and Hecate is surprised at the practicality of her tone.
“It should have been I who relinquished her magic! To allow a student to do it in my stead –”
“Well, you didn’t allow her to do it. Because she didn’t do it. Which is a shame. She should have.”
“Pippa!” Hecate goggles.
“Oh, Hiccup, you’ve always done this. Always taken the weight of the world on your shoulders and then blamed yourself when it turned out to be too much. Of course you hesitated for a minute before giving up your magic. I’ve never known a witch as talented as you, or one who depended on her magic more. You can barely walk without it. As for Ethel Hallow, she’s a misery, that’s all. When she said she should give her magic up because she was the one who caused all the trouble, she was right. She manipulated Esmerelda into stealing the magic from the Founding Stone, but more than that, she was the reason Esmerelda gave her magic to Agatha in the first place. Oh, I’ve heard the stories,” Pippa says, off Hecate’s surprise. “To be frank, if she were my student I’d have expelled her long ago. I think it would have been all the better for her. At any rate, you didn’t allow her to give up her magic. You hesitated a moment –”
“And allowed Mildred Hubble to do it in her stead!”
“And froze, and were lost to the world until first Mildred and then Miss Mould set things right between them! Don’t you understand, Hecate? You hesitated to lose your magic because it was too much to lose. And part of why Ethel spoke up was because, awful as she is, she still knew this school needs you. This world needs you. I need you, Hiccup.”
“I…” Hecate is fighting back tears again. “I… cannot…”
Pippa’s hands fall away from Hecate’s back. Hecate can feel the chill beginning to crowd in again.
“Pippa…” she says, her voice very quiet. Then, in a whisper: “Pipsqueak.”
When Pippa speaks, her voice is measured. “If you want… anything, Hiccup… you’re going to have to do it yourself. I can’t take another rejection.”
Somehow Hecate is on her feet. Somehow she’s turned to face Pippa. She looks into Pippa’s face and sees that Pippa is crying as well.
“Pipsqueak,” she says again, and then she’s fallen into Pippa’s arms.
“I’m sorry,” she hears herself say. “I’m so sorry.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry for.”
“There is. I have rebuffed you time and again – pushed you away –”
“You’re not pushing me away now.”
“No, I –” And then Hecate has pulled back, is looking into Pippa’s eyes again. “My Pipsqueak,” she says, and kisses her.
One split second later Pippa is immersed in the kiss, her hands moving over Hecate’s back and shoulders. The warming spell is gone now, but her touch is fire, and Hecate feels it spreading through her body, heating every cell.
Hecate doesn’t know how long it is before they finally break apart. She tastes salt on her lips, mixed with Pippa’s lipstick. Her own lipstick is smudged beyond the edges of her mouth. She looks like hell. She’s never felt better.
Pippa is staring at her, wide-eyed. “Hiccup,” she says. “Please tell me that wasn’t a delayed shock reaction from the freeze.”
“If it was, it’s been building for thirty years,” Hecate says.
“Have you been frozen for thirty years, then?” Pippa asks, her face intent.
Hecate nods, slowly. “I think perhaps I have.”
“But you’re not now?”
Hecate shakes her head. “Not if you’ll help me. Not if you’ll stay with me.”
Pippa wraps her hands around Hecate’s back, burying them in her hair. “Always, darling.”
Hecate closes her eyes and feels warmth envelop her.