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The light in the library was dull where it wavered across her desk. Agott's pen felt awkward and thin in her hand, and the muscles kept cramping up. She put it on its rest and sighed, massaging the palm of her hand with firm motions. A shadow fell across her desk, snuffing out the half-hearted light and the last of her motivation in one fell swoop. "It is not my responsibility to answer enquiries this month," Agott said without looking up, irritated, "so I would appreciate it if you left me–"
"Agott!"
Agott reared back, her eyes moving up to see the woman on the other side of her desk. Tetia giggled and did a little twirl, her cape spinning out around her. It was pink and white to match her double pointed cap, with a teal underskirt as homage to her master's atelier; even in the dust and gloom of Agott's office, she was a bright streak of colour. "Tetia?" Agott said dumbly before her wits returned to her. "What on Earth are you doing here? I thought you were still down south."
"I'm back!" Tetia clapped her hands, and the link rings she wore on her index fingers made rainbow sparks shower down onto Agott's copywriting. "Your hair is new! I love it."
Agott brushed a lock of hair behind her ear self-consciously. It was shorter now than it had ever been, and when she caught herself in the mirror she occasionally saw a boy looking back, not a twenty-eight year old woman. She was not sure about it, but she had needed a change, and it was the only one she could afford.
"You look good as well," she said, which was true. Tetia's cheeks were speckled with freckles and her hair was sun-bleached, the pink of it pale and luminous. "Welcome back." She felt silly saying it, the words clumsy on her tongue, but Tetia came around the desk to hug her tightly.
"It's good to be back! I hope it's okay that I interrupt you?" Tetia gave her a disarming smile when they parted, no less effective now than it was when she was thirteen, and Agott silently gave up on the rest of her work day.
"I was meaning to go home anyway," she said reluctantly. "Are you staying in Torinn? We could have dinner together." Torinn was a coastal village, noteworthy mainly for its proximity to the Tower, and Agott had a cold little flat there. Only the Head Librarian lived in the Tower, which had seemed like a tremendous privilege when she was younger and now seemed uncomfortably like a prison, though she hated it when she caught herself thinking those sorts of things.
"I am, I put my stuff in the inn there before coming here," Tetia said. "I got you some gifts, of course – they have this tinned fruit that I think you'll absolutely adore…"
In the time since they graduated, Tetia had travelled all over Zozah, as well as the continents further afield. Her most recent journey was through a small country in the south known for its smoked meats and rose seed oils. As they ate at a small restaurant in Torinn, she told Agott of a beautiful maiden she met in the mountains, who bathed exclusively in rose oils and and wore dresses made of petals, and whose father was the witch king of the region. Agott dismissed it as a tall tale, but Tetia still made her laugh with her impression of the father's advisor, pulling some hair out of a pigtail so she could give herself a pink moustache.
"And you?" Tetia asked her, letting go of her hair and smiling over her glass of wine. "How have you been? What have you been up to? Tell me everything."
"I was promoted," Agott said. "I am now Deputy Head Librarian."
"Oh, that's wonderful!" Tetia reached across the table, grasping her forearm. "I'm so happy for you. You're still so young – is that a record?"
Agott laughed, a short and bitter sound. "No, my mother received the role at twenty-five."
Tetia's smile turned embarrassed. "Right… well, it's still super impressive! We should celebrate!"
"It was a few years ago, now," Agott said quickly, remembering all too well the extravagant parties Tetia organised for any birthday, anniversary, or otherwise notable date when they lived together at the atelier.
Tetia squeezed her arm again and sat back. "Okay, okay. Still, I'm so proud! You're amazing! Richeh, too – did you hear that her stall at Silver Eve sold out within the first hour? Riliphin's apprentices had to go fetch more contraptions."
Agott's lips twisted. She had meant to go to Silver Eve, but she had found a text that, if deciphered, could be another stepping stone towards her promotion to Head Librarian. By the time she looked up from the dusty glyphs, Silver Eve and its revelry had long passed. "How do you know that?" she asked. "Didn't you only just get back?"
"She writes to me," Tetia said easily. It was not meant as a reprimand, but Agott still had to fight against her instinct to take it as one. "She's got some very cute stories from her and Riliphin's atelier. It sounds like it's a lovely place."
"That's nice," Agott said.
"Speaking of ateliers," Tetia said, "it's been ten years since we graduated."
"Nine," Agott corrected. "Next summer, it will be ten."
Tetia smiled. "But I might be away then! What do you say to an early reunion? Come on, Agott, it would be fun! When was the last time you saw Master Qifrey and Master Olruggio? We can ask Richeh to come, too!"
Agott remembered her last memory of Qifrey: his thin hand on her shoulder and his smile, big and sincere, when he congratulated her on becoming a librarian. She was twenty, and had been a full-fledged witch for two years. There had been some stiffness to him in those days, some illness that plagued him, but he was a private man, and she had let him be, the only way she knew to show her care. She dreaded to think of him now, what the last eight years may have done to the teacher she thought infallible. It was selfish to wish to preserve her memory of him as it was, but preservation was her life's blood; an archivist was always seeking ways to stop the ravages of time.
"It's been some time," she replied, ashamed.
"That's perfect, then," Tetia said. "I have some business in the Great Hall, but then I can come back here, and we can go visit next week?"
"Next week? I-I can't just leave my work so soon!" Agott protested. "My duties are important, and not easily delegated."
"Surely you can take a few days' leave." Tetia's smile turned steelly. "I would very much like to see us all together again, Agott."
Agott chewed on her cheek. "I will see what I can do," she said finally, and Tetia cheered and threw her arms around her, hugging her close like they were children again.
It took embarrassingly little time to arrange her leave of absence. Agott was already several months ahead of her workload, and when she wrote a note to the Head Librarian asking for leave, all she received in response was, Your request has been granted.
The note had her mother's seal, the family crest of Arklaum. Agott thumbed over it and imagined her mother neatly pressing her signet ring into the warm wax. The letter to Agott may have been one of half a dozen, all of them receiving the same precise, impersonal press.
When she arrived in Kalhn, Tetia was already there. "Look at this charming little pen Tartah carved for me," she said with delight, showing Agott a bamboo pen with a leather cap to protect the gold nib. "He's truly outdone himself."
Agott held the pen, lifting it up to see the autumn sunlight through the carefully forged nib. "The balance is excellent," she murmured, handing it back. "I should put in an order."
"Absolutely! You could stop by on your way back. Come, now – Master Qifrey and Master Olruggio are expecting us."
It was strange, watching the landscape move below them as they flew. Once upon a time, Agott knew this area like the back of her hand, but now her gaze kept getting caught by newly quarried ground, bridges built from stone where they were once timber, flattened fields where once was forest. At the Tower, she was surrounded by items that never aged; how strange, to leave that domain and find a world in constant motion.
The sun was setting when they arrived, bathing the atelier in purple and gold. It looked lonely, a solitary structure surrounded by nature; but it was a gentle loneliness, less harsh and cruel than the complete isolation of the Tower. A new wooden patio had been laid out over part of the land, and two chairs stood there with a small table between them. In the chairs sat Olruggio and Qifrey.
They stood up when they saw Tetia and Agott come near. Tetia flew down first, putting on a burst of speed and laughing as she wrapped her arms around Qifrey, using him to slow her momentum. Qifrey laughed loudly, even as he let out a pained gasp at the impact. "Master Qifrey!" Tetia said loudly, kissing his cheeks. "Master Olly!" She let go of Qifrey to embrace the other man.
Agott pulled her sylph soles apart and stood on the deck behind her, feeling ill at ease. Qifrey turned his face to her and smiled. His glasses were larger and sat higher on his nose now, his blue eye milky behind the lens. "Welcome, Agott," he said. "It's good to see you again."
She clasped her hands by her side and kneeled stiffly, her knees thudding against the wood. "Master Qifrey," she said, but Qifrey laughed and came close to pull her up, his hands searching before he found her elbows and urged her to stand.
"Absolutely not," he said warmly. "I won't have any of you kneeling to me." He hugged her instead. Agott's nose reached his shoulder. She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around him in turn, remembering when she didn't reach much further than his stomach. He was thin in her arms, but there was strength in his grip, and his expression was free of pain when they parted. She looked up at him, studying the gentle crow's feet by his eye, the laugh lines around his mouth. She felt faint with relief that he was not the sick waif she had feared she would meet, but there was cruelty in that feeling too, rendering her momentarily mute.
Qifrey wrapped his arm around her elbow gently, bringing her closer to the other two. "Why, if it isn't the Deputy Head Librarian!" Olruggio said. "Here to show your face at last, huh?"
"Olly," Qifrery scolded. "If you tell her off now, it'll be another decade before we see her again."
Olruggio laughed and opened his arms. "Well, come 'ere and give us a hug, then, love." Agott took a few uncertain steps forward before she fell into his arms, hands clutched tight in his velvet cloak and hiding her face in her shoulder. He smelled exactly like she remembered, like autumn bonfires and ink. "It's good to see you," he murmured into her hair, voice warm. "You look tired. Not burning the candle at both ends, are you?"
"I learned from the best," Agott mumbled into his shoulder, and Olruggio laughed low in his chest, a rumble that still, after all these years, made her feel safe. When they parted, she turned her face away to wipe her eyes quickly.
"Richeh is arriving tomorrow," Qifrey said. "Something came up at the atelier, and she's had to stay to help deal with it."
"That's a shame!" Tetia leaned over. "Oh, Master Olly, look at the link rings I made."
While Olruggio made obliging noises and stroked his greying beard, studying Tetia's sparkling link rings, Qifrey smiled. "I suppose Watchful Eyes always end up being masters of the atelier too."
"They're not supposed to," Olruggio said. "You know, if you added a sigil here, your sparks would float instead of falling…"
Qifrey said, "Pray tell, Agott. I'd love to make an apple pie for dessert, but I don't think I have enough – would you mind going to the orchard to pick some?" He held out a wicker basket. Agott took it, watching his face. There was something to the twist of his lips that raised her hackles, but she was ten years out of practice in reading him, and he had always been enigmatic.
"That sounds delicious," she said, and watched his smile turn soft and warm.
"We'll see. Perhaps you can help me bake it, like in the old days?"
"I want to help too!" Tetia said, wrapping her hands around Qifrey's arm. "Oh, but I'll give you your gifts while Agott does that. I found this game while I was down south, and the tiles were just so beautiful…"
Agott left them behind, the sounds of conversation drifting away like the fading sunlight as she walked down the path to the orchard. She remembered planting these trees as a teenager, dirt under her fingernails as she, Tetia and Richeh worked rows and rows of seedlings into the soil. "Think of all the tarts we'll make," Qifrey had said, and Agott had felt so lonely in the knowledge that the three of them would spread their wings and flee the nest long before the trees bore fruit.
She had been proven right as well as wrong; when they passed the fourth test at eighteen, she and Tetia had left. She worked in the Great Hall until the Tower accepted her two years later, and Tetia began her travels of the peninsula. Richeh, however, had turned to Qifrey and Olruggio and asked, "Are you getting new apprentices?"
"I don't believe so," Qifrey had replied.
"Excellent," Richeh had said. "Then I will keep my room for a bit longer, please."
Agott wondered now if Richeh had been here, the first time these trees flowered and brought apples to the atelier. Perhaps, while Agott breathed dust and strained her eyes in gloomy rooms, Richeh was here with her own wicker basket, apple blossoms scenting the air around her.
She heard the person before she saw them. Someone else was walking around the orchard, humming softly under their breath, gently shaking branches to loosen apples as they walked. For a moment, Agott thought that Richeh must have arrived early after all, but then she turned down a new path among the trees and saw the person clearly. Her heart and the basket in her hands dropped to her feet.
Coco looked older. Her hair was long enough to fall in a loose braid down her back, and it had darkened into a forest-green colour, painted vibrantly in honey by the sunset. A wicker basket sat on her hip, wider now. Her figure, which had at fifteen only been a suggestion, was now in full bloom, and the curve of her waist made a mockery of the finest statue in Romonon. Her face had settled into adulthood, though she still had apple cheeks when she smiled – and smile she did, meeting Agott's eyes with bright warmth. "Agott!"
"Coco," Agott breathed. She was staring and she knew it, but it was impossible to pull her gaze away. "What are you doing here?"
Coco pushed a lock of hair behind her ear nervously with her free hand. "Master Qifrey didn't say? I live here now. Again, I suppose!" She let out a flustered little laugh.
"What about your mother?" Agott asked.
Coco's smile fell away and she squeezed the handle of the wicker basket, the knuckles of her hands – which were stronger and broader than Agott remembered, a working woman's hands – stark with tension. "She passed away last winter."
Of course, Agott thought bitterly. There was no other reason for Coco to return to the witching life. It had always been her second option. And to know that she had been here, for months, while no one thought to tell Agott…!
"I'm sorry for your loss." The words were curt and bleached of meaning. She turned on her heel and longed for the Tower's stone hallways instead of this soft orchard floor, which robbed her brisk walk away of some of its power.
On the wooden deck in front of the atelier, the three co-conspirators were still sitting. Agott turned on Tetia first, hissing: "You planned this, did you not!"
Tetia bit her lip and reached for her arm. "Agott–"
"I won't hear it!" Agott stepped past her and inside the atelier, slamming the door shut and storming up familiar steps until she was in her old room and the bed she still sometimes woke up thinking she was lying in. The pillow smelled like dust when she squeezed it tightly, jaw aching. How dare Tetia do such a thing? How dare any of them? She was the Deputy Head Librarian, not some child to be kept in the dark for her own good. It had clearly been added to the long list of things no one told to tell her: that master Qifrey had recovered from his mysterious illness, that they had built a new veranda, that Coco had returned to witching and didn't find Agott worth telling.
After they left, Qifrey never ended up taking on any new apprentices. The last resident of this room was still her. Agott rolled over to lie on her back, staring up at the pointed roof. It was a sight she had long memorised, lying under it for eight years, but now there was something new: some discolouration on a wooden beam where water had leaked in. Something in this room has changed, though it did not feel like it was her.
She sighed and rubbed her face. What an embarrassing spectacle she had made, storming off like she was still twelve years old and protagonist of the universe. And yet… when she pushed her palm against her closed eye, the sparks looked like Coco in the orchard, and she felt like she might throw up. It had been a long time since she'd felt so present in her body, everywhere from her head to her toes prickling with some uncomfortable mix of anxiety and anger, like the prickle of a deadened limb coming back to life.
After a long moment of rumination, there was a knock on the door. "There's no sign sayin' 'Don't come in', so I guess I can just go in," Olruggio said on the other side, as if to himself, and then she heard the creak of the door and his heavy steps as he crossed the room. She kept her arm over her face, feeling the mattress dip as he sat at her bedside.
"I don't want to hear it," she said. "I'm tired."
Olruggio hummed. "If you want to blame anyone," he said slowly, "blame me. I was the one who didn't know if you'd come if you knew she was here."
"I don't want to see her," Agott said, and hated how her voice broke. "She left."
"Tough luck, love," Olruggio said. He did not touch her, but he made himself available, a shadow of warmth and comfort hidden behind her arm. She rolled over, pressing her face into his hip, and his hand stroked through the short strands of her hair. "Do it for Qifrey's sake, if nothing else. You know he always hated to see any of you fight."
"Coco is not one of us," Agott tried to spit, her voice and the venom within it muddled to confusion by Olruggio's robe. "She chose to leave. She only came back because her mother…" Her eyes pricked, grief stinging sharply in them. How could her heart break both for herself and for the life together that Coco had abandoned, yet also break for the loss that Coco had suffered twice over?
"Aye," Olruggio said softly. His fingers were still carding through her hair. "Her mother was a wonderful woman. I didn't meet her as much as I would have liked. You know one thing I'm certain of, though?"
"What?"
"She would've liked you a lot," Olruggio said, and Agott cried bitter tears into his robe.
Coco was there when they came down, talking to Tetia. The lights were dim, and there was an odd veil in front of the crackling fireplace, softening the orange glow of the flames to a warm brown. The smell of stew and fresh bread was in the air, and Qifrey was bringing a pot of stew to the table, leaning his hip against it before he brought the pot down. "We're here," Olruggio said.
"I heard," Qifrey said with a smile. "Welcome. Agott, I hope you don't mind stew – Tetia requested it especially in her letter saying the two of you were coming. I've baked some bread as well."
"It smells wonderful," Agott murmured, taking a seat across from Tetia and ignoring Coco's gaze where she sat next to her. Qifrey sat down next to her, across from Coco, and Olruggio took a seat at the head of the table, serving out ladles of stew with practiced motions.
"What's working at the Tower like?" Coco asked. There was a new deeper note to her voice, although it still had the same warmth.
"Busy," Agott said curtly. "I am Deputy Head Librarian."
"That's amazing," Coco said. "Does your mother still work there?"
Agott's spoon scraped against her bowl. "Yes – that is the only reason I am the Deputy Head Librarian."
Coco laughed a little, flustered. "Of course."
"The stew's delicious, by the way!" Tetia cut in. "Just like how I remember."
"That's because it's the same stew," Qifrey replied cheerfully. Tetia made a noise of distress around her spoon, looking vaguely green, and Qifrey laughed. "It's not, it's not. But the recipe's the same. I don't make it much these days – I'm glad you like it."
"You've become a right jokester in your old age," Olruggio said with a sigh, tearing off a piece of bread to soak it in the stew. "Don't mind 'im, girls."
"Even if it was the same one, I trust your longevity spells!" Tetia insisted. "It's just… the thought of eating something that old…"
"The first time I had this stew, I had the exact same reaction," Coco said. "I'd never heard of longevity spells – even after I saw it in action, I spent days being sure we'd all get food poisoning…" She cast Qifrey a sheepish glance. "I apologise."
"No need," Qifrey said. "In a world without magic, it's generally considered unwise to eat anything that old, after all." Agott had forgotten her teacher's dry wit. Back when she lived at the atelier, he had not shown it often, preferring to hide it under gentle assurances and polite speech, but she remembered now moments of acerbic commentary and wry conversations with Olruggio under their breaths. It was strange, to realise everything she had made herself forget.
She spent the rest of the meal listening, eating quietly and taking up as little space as possible. This was no longer her home, and she would do well to remember that, even as the warmth of Qifrey sitting beside her felt painful in its familiarity. Her home was in the Tower, where no one spoke to her and her mother gave no indication that they had once shared the same bones.
"Perhaps we'll make the pie tomorrow," Qifrey said, once the meal was finished. "Would anyone like a cup of tea?"
"Yes, please!" Tetia said.
"I brought some work with me that I need to see done," Agott said, rising to her feet. "Good night. Thank you for the meal, Master Qifrey."
Qifrey's face turned in her direction. It was difficult to make out his expression in the dim light, and Agott looked away before she could see it clearly. "Good night, Agott," he said softly. "We'll see you tomorrow. I'll make eggs – do you still like them poached?"
Agott gave a small nod, embarrassed, and fled up the stairs. She worked on her texts late into the night, the window open to bring in the smell from the apple orchard and the faint sounds of laughter from downstairs, and only went to bed when there were no sounds except for the chirr of insects.
She awoke to the smell of frying eggs and hot coffee. Coming down the stairs, she found Coco in the kitchen with Qifrey, navigating around him like an old friend. Agott watched them from the doorway for a long moment, frowning in thought as she saw Coco's hand on Qifrey's elbow to gently adjust his grip and leaning over the frying pan to check for shells after Qifrey cracked another few eggs into it.
"Master Qifrey," she said. "You can't see very well, can you?"
Qifrey dropped the egg shells onto the floor, startled. "Agott!" he blurted, flustered. Coco waved her arms.
"No, it's – it's actually for me, uhm, I – I can't see–!"
Qifrey started to laugh, touching Coco's frantic hands. "It's fine," he said. "It's not a secret. Would you mind finishing this, Coco? I'll go sit outside with Agott for a moment."
"Of course, master Qifrey," she said. Qifrey gestured for Agott to come closer, moving to the door. He took a shawl from the basket by the door, wrapping it around her shoulders, and she let him tie it before watching him wrap another one around himself. They were fine shawls, woven in thick wool and finished with tassels that matched both Qifrey and Olruggio's cloaks.
"Ever since Olruggio built the deck, I've scarcely wanted to leave it," Qifrey said, leading her outside. The air was nippy, a chill that made her pull the shawl closer. They took a seat in the two chairs, and Agott noted with surprise that the wooden seat was warm to the touch, similar to that of a snugstone. "Olly doesn't really understand, because bright lights can bring about headaches, but he indulges me."
"It's a beautiful view," Agott said carefully. "Is it because of your missing eye?"
Qifrey sighed and nodded. His face was turned out towards the sunrise, and his hair was technicolour in the light. "When I was young, several matters plagued me," he said. "One of those was the matter of my eye. Given a witch's work and the attention to detail that we have to pay, my remaining eye underwent a lot of strain."
Agott nodded, watching him. "What is it like now?"
"It's purely decorative. I can still draw through a combination of memory and guesswork," Qifrey said, "but I rely on both Olly and Coco quite a bit, as you've seen. Truly, she deserves a much better teacher at this stage, but…" He fell silent, fiddling with the end of a shawl. Two people who loved him had made it possible for him to sit outside no matter the weather, Agott realised. A seamstress had sewn the shawl with precise care, and an inventor had given his warmth to the seats they sat on. "I've always found it hard to say no to any of you, I'm afraid."
"You're still the best teacher in Zozah," Agott said. She turned to watch the sunrise too, the bright light prickling her eyes. So Qifrey was blind. He had been going blind, while Agott was worrying about no one but herself. The most important thing at a witch's disposal, and he had lost it, and she had been of no help at all. "I would have chosen you again as well."
Qifrey reached across the space between them to wrap his arm around her, and she leaned her head on his shoulder. "She has not had it easy," he murmured. "I know it is hard, seeing her again. But the two of you were so close… I hope you can find your way back to each other."
"I do not appreciate your meddling," Agott replied. There was a lump in her throat.
"I know," Qifrey said. "You never did. And yet I can't help myself. I want you both to be happy."
There was something to be said for unconditional love, Agott thought wryly as she watched the sun claw its way up from the horizon, the hurt in her throat slowly fading. It brought a safety that lowered her shoulders when she did not even notice they had been raised.
"I have another favour to ask of you, if that's alright," Qifrey said.
Agott nodded, and then said, "of course."
"Will you describe the sunrise to me?"
His question stabbed at something soft and vulnerable deep inside her. She took solace in the fact that he could not see her wipe at her cheek, forcing her voice to be even as she spoke. "It looks like one of Master Olruggio's spells," she said. "The fields are red and gold. It is almost too bright to look at, and there are a few pink clouds – they look like they'll dissipate soon."
"It sounds like it will be a beautiful day," Qifrey murmured. "Thank you, Agott."
He kept his arm around her shoulders. She held the edge of his shawl between her fingers, selfishly taking solace in a touch he could not see, and pretended he would not be able to hear her shuddering breaths as she cried.
Richeh arrived shortly after breakfast. She looked exhausted, her long hair flat against her skull when she took her cap off, but her smile was big and genuine when Qifrey asked about the apprentices that had held her up. "Lilian is too smart for her own good," she said, her usual flat tone showing flecks of unabashed pride. "She blew up part of our atelier's well when she was trying to make a contraption to bring water up more easily. She has very good instincts, but her hands haven't caught up to her brain."
"An explosion!" Qifrey looked alarmed. "Is everyone alright?"
Richeh nodded. "It's easier for Riliphin if I handle it when things like that happen," she said. "Loud noises are bad." She looked grim. "His apprentices are good at causing them. But they're learning to be careful."
"It's a learning curve for you both, I'm sure," Qifrey said. "But it sounds like it's all going as well as it can be."
"Did you bring any of your contraptions?" Olruggio asked, any attempt at being casual ruined by the way he was almost jumping in place. "It'd be interestin' to see… you know, just if you happen to have anything on hand."
Qifrey laid a hand on his arm. "I'm sure Richeh will have plenty of time to show you later," he said. "How about we all go for a walk?"
"I should probably get some work done," Olruggio started to say, and Qifrey's grip tightened.
"It's a chance for us all to catch up," he said sweetly. "Let's all go for a walk. Remember what Sinocia said."
Olruggio sighed, but he let Qifrey lead him away to pack a bag for the walk. Agott looked to Richeh, who met her gaze.
"I heard about your stall at Silver Eve," Agott said.
"I heard about your promotion," Richeh said. "Hug?"
Agott nodded, and Richeh stepped forward to throw her arms around her. She had kept her diminutive stature over the years, and she easily nestled her face into Agott's neck as Agott held her close. "You look lonely," Richeh murmured.
"I'm perfectly fine," Agott replied. "I'm just focused on work right now."
"It's weird that Coco's back. But it makes me happy, too."
"Richexcited," Agott said, mimicking Richeh's old habit of portmanteaus, and Richeh laughed softly before stepping back.
"Yes. Do you want to hear about Riliphin's students?"
Before Agott could reply, Qifrey, Olruggio, Coco and Tetia all came back out to join them on the deck, a picnic basket on Qifrey's arm. "I thought we could have lunch if we found somewhere nice to sit," he said cheerfully. "Shall we go, dear ones?"
Olruggio and he led the way away from the atelier and up towards the hillside, while Tetia and Coco continued a conversation that Agott chose to ignore. She touched Richeh's arm as they fell into step at the rear of the party, a well-trodden dirt path under their feet. "Tell me about your apprentices," she said.
"They're Rili's apprentices," Richeh corrected, but she spent the next clock mark telling Agott about her three young wards. Two of them were twin girls, both born with silverwash syndrome, and the third boy – the first one Riliphin took in, to Agott's complete lack of surprise – was still learning how to use his left hand after his drawing hand was disabled by his previous master. Agott caught herself wondering what the point of pursuing magic was, when one knew one could never excel. Her gaze wandered to Qifrey, who was laughing as he explained something to Tetia, and she felt the shadow of her mother pass over with a shudder before evaporating in the sun.
Olruggio drew Richeh into conversation, and Agott found herself walking next to Coco. In the daylight, she could see the mark from their first Silver Eve still lingered on her cheek, having faded to a lighter patch like a birth mark against her summer-tanned cheek. Coco caught her staring and gave her a nervous smile, and Agott looked away with a resolute frown.
They had lunch on the hilltop, Olruggio collapsing onto the blanket as soon as Qifrey and Tetia laid it out. "This is why you need to come walking with me every day," Qifrey scolded, sitting and pulling out a sizeable spread from the picnic basket. "You can't just rely on your youth anymore!"
"Oh, that's what I've been doing, is it?" Olruggio wheezed. "At least tell me you brought something nice to drink for a fine day like this…"
"You can help yourself to some tea," Qifrey said tartly. "You too, girls. Please, have at it." From his basket, he had produced bread, freshly churned butter, various jars of jam, a few boiled eggs and several slices of smoked meat. "Oh, Agott, please do try this mapleberry jam – Olly and I made it last year! There are a few extra jars in the pantry if it's to your taste."
Agott took a seat next to Tetia, taking the cup of tea Olruggio offered her and spooning some mapleberry jam onto a slice of bread. When she took a bite, the tangy sweetness burst over her tongue like a soap bubble, and she gave Qifrey an approving nod.
"She likes it," she heard Olruggio murmur to Qifrey, and she flushed with embarrassment to realise he could not have seen it.
"It's delicious, master Qifrey," she said. "Thank you."
Tetia leaned in and stole a bite of Agott's bread, chirping in agreement. "Super delicious!" Agott caught Coco looking at the movement, something troubled on her face, but as soon as she saw Agott, she looked down and focussed on the food.
"The meat's the best," Richeh said with a satisfied sigh, her sandwich consisting mostly of slices of meat with a tiny dollop of jam on top. "I miss living with other people who eat it."
"Oh, yes, Rili's a vegetarian, isn't he! Are all the apprentices taking after him, then?" Tetia asked.
"Farfa eats meat if I make it, but I don't much care for cooking."
Coco covered her mouth. "Eating vegetables regularly – Richeh, you did grow up!" She laughed at Richeh's unimpressed expression.
"I still don't like being an adult," Richeh grumbled. "But all I can do is try to be a good one. Good adults are important too." She glanced sidelong at Olruggio and Qifrey, who were busy arguing about which of them forgot to refresh the boiling water seal on the kettle. Agott raised the cup of tea to her lips and found it tepid. Quietly, she pulled out her quire and drew a spell on the paper, passing it under the tea cups scattered among them.
Olruggio stopped the argument to pick up the spell when it came to him, humming curiously. "Now this is interesting," he said. "A lot of sigils just to specify the exact temperature… is this one of yours, Agott?"
"It's an old spell," Agott said. "It's fallen out of fashion, because it's more complicated than the simple boiling spell, but it's specifically to heat your tea to the perfect drinking temperature for that brew. I use it at my desk frequently."
"You must see a lot of old spells through your work," Coco said, peering at her. "Do you enjoy it?"
"Of course I enjoy it," Agott replied, flustered and angered by the attention. "It's what I worked for all those years. Not that you'd know, since you weren't here."
Coco looked chastised, while Richeh frowned. "Agott," she said. "That wasn't very nice."
Agott bit into her bread, shoulders hunched. The autumn breeze made cold seep into the folds of her robes, and she clutched the tea in her hand tightly.
"It's okay!" Coco said with false brightness. "It's been a long time, after all. I don't want to bother you, Agott, so I'll leave you alone."
The ceramic cup in Agott's hand creaked from the pressure and she stood up abruptly. "I'm going for a walk," she said tightly. "I've missed these hills. I'll be back at the atelier later."
"I can come with you – there are beasts here, you know," Qifrey said, but Agott shook her head.
"I know how to look after myself," she said, and brought her soles together.
The brisk air was a comforting reprieve from her thoughts, and Agott flew further than intended to stay out of her own mind. She finally touched down on a peak she used to visit as an apprentice. The cairn she'd once built was still there, and she sat down next to it with a sigh.
Her stomach was a knotted mess of feelings, and she didn't know which thread to pull to unravel it all. In the first months after Coco found the solution to her mother's petrification at the Tower of Tomes and returned home to live with her, Agott had come to this hilltop many times, always with the same silent scream lodged in her throat. They were fifteen years old when they passed the third test. They were supposed to have the rest of their lives ahead of them, witches living side by side, but instead Coco turned her back on Agott and the rest of witching society. "If you go now," Qifrey had said, "you won't be a full witch. You haven't passed the fourth test, so you can't practice independently."
"I need to be with her," Coco had replied, tears in her eyes. "I left her behind once, I can't do it again. I'm sorry, Master Qifrey."
Agott had watched from a distance. Once again, the future she had planned had been pulled out from under her, and the one person who was supposed to believe in Agott had turned her back on her instead. Her pen nib left a bloody mark in the palm of her hand.
Until Agott, Tetia and Richeh graduated three years later, the other two often went with Qifrey to visit Coco and her mother. Agott always stayed behind, watching the lights of their sylph shoes through a window until they faded against the horizon.
And now Coco's mother was dead; she had lost her for a second time, and all Agott could manage to stutter out were childish barbs. Was it the Arklaum blood in her that made her so terrible? She had seen her family's legacy now, working under it at the Tower, and what she had once thought so beautiful instead left a shame so white-hot she had to look away.
She thought about what it must have been like, for Coco to work alongside her mother, cutting and measuring and sewing clothes. It was a long way away from the press of a signet ring on wax.
Agott looked out across the horizon, the faint sea below her warmed by the sun's colours even as winds drew the water into frothy peaks. She would have let the universe take her mother instead of Coco's, she thought, and realised with a pang that she had had the same thought at fourteen.
The atelier smelled like apples and hot sugar when she returned. "Agott!" Qifrey said when he heard her approach, delighted. "Perfect timing. Come stir this batter for me, dear." Tetia was in the kitchen alongside him, her sleeves rolled up as she created tiny sculptures out of caramelising sugar. She smiled when she saw Agott, and Agott managed a weak smile in response.
She threw herself into helping with the baking, giving Qifrey detailed updates on the colour and consistency of each ingredient as it entered the batter. While the pie baked over a spell, Tetia showed them the little scene she'd prepared to go on top, six recognisable miniatures of the atelier's old inhabitants, complete with the tiny brushbuddy that used to dart through its hallways.
Dinner was served while the pie cooled, and Olruggio insisted that the fine meat he'd bought was best enjoyed with aged cherrygrape wine, of which he conveniently produced two bottles. "To havin' us all together again," he toasted, his hand on Qifrey's arm.
"Hear, hear!" Tetia said, smiling around the table. "It's so nice to see you all again!"
Agott felt the presence of Coco like a toothache, and she continued to worry at it throughout the meal. An apology was due, even she recognised that, but all the words that came to mind were thorny and painful in her throat, and she drank more of the wine to soothe it.
It did not take long until they were all in their cups. Richeh had curled up in her chair like a child, eyes lidded while she listened to Tetia's story of the rose maiden. Qifrey asked several logistical questions about the matter, incredulous even as he took Tetia's jests for fact, while Olruggio made sure everyone's glasses were topped up. The third time Qifrey reached for his glass and found that it had a new weight to it, he turned to Olruggio and asked,
"Are you trying to get me drunk?"
"Should I be?" Olruggio asked, with a smile that Qifrey could surely hear in his voice even if he was fortunate enough to be spared the sappy sight. Agott had seen the expression on his face before, but there was always something trepidatious about it, like Olruggio was at any moment prepared to retreat to safer ground. Now the joy spilled out of him like ink out of a cracked jar, and Qifrey laughed and said,
"No, no need. I'm already sleeping in your bed, aren't I?"
Tetia choked on her wine and Agott coughed loudly, her cheeks bright red. In her distress to look elsewhere, she caught Coco's eye – Coco, who looked more used to such overt relational references than the other three, but still grimaced in designed disgust when she sees Agott looking at her. Agott let out a startled laugh into her glass. For a moment, she was thrust back into the dinnertimes of her youth, those stressful, happy years, sharing secretive glances with Coco across the dinner table and finding inside jokes in every conversation.
The memory cracked something in her, already made brittle by the wine.
"It's our bed," Olruggio insisted, drunkenly leaning over to touch Qifrey's shoulder, "I built it for us! Remember, you'd come to test how sturdy it was–"
"No," Richeh said to cut him off, looking at him with sleepy disgruntlement. "I don't want to hear about that."
Tetia started to laugh at Olruggio's baffled expression, watching the slow mortification set in as he realised his audience. "Oh, Pact take me," he said, "I'm so sorry– Qifrey, why didn't you stop me and my big mouth–"
"I happen to very much enjoy your big mouth," Qifrey retorted, and laughed as Tetia giggled louder and Richeh let out a groan.
Agott leaned over the table, her fingers playing with a napkin, and murmured to Coco, "Go for a walk with me."
Coco nodded, dabbing crumbs from her lips, and stood up.
"We're going for a walk," Agott announced to the room. It felt important to announce it. The wine had laid a layer of warmth over the world, and at its fulcrum was Coco. "We will be back later."
"Take a lantern with you, please!" Qifrey called. "And stay on the paths, there are still beasts!"
Coco took a lantern from a hook on the door while Agott swung her cloak around her shoulders, and the two of them disappeared into the night.
Agott had forgotten the fierce dark of the countryside. The moon was a pale sickle above them, and though the stars were as clear as they were above Torinn, they felt closer here, like she could reach out and pluck them out. That may also have been the wine – she couldn't remember the last time she had been drunk. Perhaps it was after her promotion, when she waited all afternoon for an invitation to dine with her mother in celebration and, when no such thing came, bought herself expensive whisky and drank without savouring any of it.
Autumn was a season of warm sunlight and cold nights, and she pulled her cloak closer around her, watching Coco out of the corner of her eye. The lamplight made her cheeks glow pink with the cold, and it swung between them like a dizzy shooting star, hooked on the end of a rod that Coco held in front of them to light the way.
"It's strange," Agott said, "to see them so… lovey-dovey."
Coco laughed softly. "It is, isn't it? They're like that all the time, now."
Agott learned many lessons under master Qifrey, and one of them was this: yearning was all that was allowed for people like them. It had raised her hackles like she witnessed something illegal the first time she saw two women kiss, hidden behind a stall during market day in Torinn. That's not for us, she had wanted to say. We cannot do things like these. And yet, now, Qifrey and Olruggio were touching each other's hands at the dinner table and openly sharing a bed, and the world had not ended just because they were allowed to have each other.
"How bizarre," Agott replied, her voice small. "Not to mention unprofessional."
"It's sweet, though," Coco said. "They're very happy. Sometimes, ah, too happy." Her smile was soft and embarrassed in the lamplight, and Agott let out a childish eugh at the image her words conjured.
"I suppose I'm happy for them." Agott watched the lamp sway. Her feet were still moving under her, and the shadows of trees and roadside boulders dipped in and out of her peripheral vision. "In retrospect, I don't understand why they weren't always like this."
Coco was quiet for a moment. Their shoes moved softly on the dirt path, and the only sound around them was that of the night itself. "It's Master Qifrey's story to tell, I think. I'm sorry."
Agott clicked her tongue and pretended that it did not hurt to come up against this old allegiance. "You two were always keeping secrets," she said. She was not very good at pretending.
"Were we?"
"Yes. You thought the rest of us couldn't tell, but we could. I always wondered what it was," Agott said, the wine making words fly like migrating birds out of her mouth. "It was like you had a secret world that only the two of you could see." The birds were green-tinged with envy, but it was an old hurt, the edges of it worn with age. The world was softer right now, and she could watch Coco's gently glowing face without feeling any fear at all.
"There were so many difficult things," Coco said slowly. "Custas, Tartah, my mother… I suppose we did keep secrets."
Agott stopped. They were in the middle of a field, the lake woven through with faint moonlight below them. "I wanted you to tell me." Coco had halted a few steps ahead of her, the lamp turned to light the space between them. "But instead you cut me out, and then you left me behind. I hated you."
Coco fell silent. Agott stared out into the darkness, hoping she was not crying, not daring to look. This is what you left behind, she thought. You were right to do so. All I am is a bigger thing turning into the bitter thing I was born from.
"I am sorry," Coco said finally, which was worse than hearing her cry.
"Stand up for yourself!" Agott snapped, frustrated. "You made your choice, so stand by it. Don't let me speak to you like this." She started walking again, the direction random and aimless. Coco's lamplight was at her back, fading for a moment before Coco started following her. "You've always been too much of a pushover," she continued. "Ever since you let me force you to take the first test."
"But I am sorry," Coco said to her back. "I don't regret my choice, but I regret hurting you."
"Your mother died," Agott said, "why are you letting me be so selfish?"
"I guess I still care about you," Coco replied. Her breath was coming faster, and Agott realised that she was setting a brutal pace, wandering up the hillside in the dark. She took an abrupt left, starting to bring them downhill again. "You never came to see me."
"I couldn't," Agott said shortly, hiding her own breathlessness. "You understand that, don't you?"
Coco laughed, a touch of drunken giddiness to it. "Master Qifrey asked me several times if I wanted to come say hi, but I couldn't either," she confessed. "But you know, sometimes there was this girl who came by… ah, nevermind, forget that!"
"There was a girl?" Agott asked. Perhaps the sky had been cloudy, for now the stars seemed bright and the moon so close she could touch it, putting the lamp between them to shame. In the silver light, Coco's green hair looked like something from the deep sea, dark and mysterious.
"She came to buy fabric sometimes," Coco said. "She reminded me of you."
Agott turned to look at her. Coco's face was a mess of shapes and shadows, but her eyes were luminous, and her smile was an anchor for the rest of her features until Agott could finally make sense of it again, that soft, elegant, annoyingly gorgeous face of hers. "Go on."
"I kissed her, one time." Coco laughed and covered her face. "Goodness! I shouldn't have told you that."
It felt like the moon fell down to cover Agott in its light, so forceful and strange was the realisation that coursed through her. With a handful of words, Coco had put words to the desire that had simmered between them for so long, a knotty tangle of envy and admiration and lust. That was what it had been, all along: her anger, her sorrow, her denial, her full-body reactions.
She had been in love with Coco. Perhaps some part of her still was. What a fool I've been, Agott thought, and started walking again. Impotent anger pulsed through her, the old familiar drum of finding herself lacking in some way.
After a pause, Coco fell into step next to her. Agott heard the soft intake of breath that always preceded an apology, and interrupted her by asking, "What is it like to be a witch again?"
Coco took a moment to answer, but when she did, her voice was forced as bright as it could be. "It's wonderful!"
"Coco," Agott said, exasperated.
"It is, really!"
"Coco."
Coco swallowed. The ground was flattening around them again, trees coming up to blot out the naked honesty of the stars. "So much has changed," she said finally, voice heavy, "but magic is still the most beautiful thing in the world."
Agott could not bear to look at her. The last of her anger flowed out of her like water, and all that was left inside her was soft and sticky to the touch.
"Where are we going, anyway?" Coco asked. "Are we lost?"
"Smell the air," Agott said. "We're almost at the orchard."
Coco paused, lantern swinging gently as she stopped to take a deep breath. "Oh, you're right!"
"I always know where I am," said Agott, stepping into copse of apple trees.
"Oh, Agott," Coco said with a warm laugh, "how I missed you!"
"I missed you too." It came out raw and thready, and not at all light-hearted. Agott wanted to put her soles together and run away, but she reached out to touch one of the slender trees instead, feeling the smooth bark under her fingers. There was an orientation glyph carved into the trunk, just above where her fingers naturally rested, so a blind man could navigate through the orchard without losing his way. So many things had changed – so much new growth had taken place, while Agott stayed far away and tried to bury old sorrows under ever more books.
Coco stopped under the trees. When Agott made up her mind to look at her, the lamplight made the apples nestled in the branches above her look like they were made of gold. "You missed me?" Coco said softly. Her eyes were liquid.
"Of course I did," Agott said. She stepped closer. "I hate that you are back. Why didn't you tell me? Why did no one see fit to tell me?"
"I didn't know how," Coco said. "I wanted to, but… I needed to do it the right way, and I was so scared of getting it wrong. I didn't want to spend another decade without you, and it paralysed me. Everyone said that you must be doing well, and you achieved your dream. What could I possibly tell you that you didn't already know?"
"You were a fool," Agott tried to snarl, but the insult was half-hearted and weak. "I have achieved nothing of importance."
"That's not true!" Coco said. "You've become Deputy Head Librarian, you're so close to living at the Tower–"
"I hate the Tower," Agott said loudly. While she wasn't looking, tension had seeped into the spaces between them, like it took advantage of the blinking-out of the stars and stole all the spots where the silvery light had shone. "I hate all of it! It's all pointless without you!"
Coco's eyes widened, her lips parting softly. She looked so innocent, like she had no idea of the havoc she had wrought on Agott's mind and body, and it made Agott furious. Coco had always underestimated herself, but she did not get to underestimate herself here – Agott would force her to face the consequence of her return, the way she had awoken parts of Agott that had been long deprived of blood and oxygen. There was no world in which she did not know what she was doing, and Agott wanted her to drop the pretense. She wanted to wipe that guileless expression off her face and turn it off-kilter, drag Coco down into the muck and mire until they were finally equal.
With the confidence of a drunkard, she leaned forward – down, but only slightly, like their heights were still arguing for victory – and kissed her, her hand firmly cupping Coco's scarred cheek. Coco let out a satisfying breath through her noise, the lantern falling to the forest floor with a soft thud. Agott held the kiss for a moment, waiting for Coco to fold now that she had been called on her bluff, thinking of the girl, she reminded me of you and I kissed her. As if.
But then Coco reached for her wrist and, instead of pushing Agott's hand, she simply held it fast, opening her mouth and finding Agott's weak points with a deft tongue. It was not a first kiss befitting of a knight and her princess, like Agott had once fantasised – it was spiteful and hard until Coco changed it, turned Agott into something soft and pathetic like she always did, like she had done over and over again for fifteen years.
When they finally parted, the light from the lamp illuminated the underside of Coco's face and made her look ethereal. Agott was breathless and hated herself for it. Her hand was still on Coco's cheek, even though she felt like the touch would burn her.
"Are you sure?" Coco breathed, like she had not just kissed Agott into submission.
Agott huffed and pulled her hand away, breaking the point of contact. Cold loss followed it, autumn chill setting in again. "I'm never sure of anything when it comes to you," she said, voice low and frustrated. "You discombobulate me – it's infuriating…! You make me feel so many different things, and I can't stand it. It's easier when you're not in my life."
Coco took a quick, hurt breath. "Oh," she said quietly.
Agott turned, looking at the silvery haze of fields and hills that spread out beyond the orchard, the lit windows of the atelier. "But it's so dull," she said. The honesty felt like drawing with a badly tuned nib, each line turning out wobbly and imprecise. "My life really is so dull. It's like you took some part of it with you when you left." She took a deep, painful breath. "I hated that you could just leave and be happy, when you took so much of my happiness with you."
Warmth bloomed where Coco's hand came up to touch her elbow. She did not turn to look at her, glaring at the faint shape of the atelier among the trees instead. "I left so much of my life with you too," Coco said, soft and sad. "No matter what I do, someone gets hurt. But I am sorry I hurt you."
"I wish I had gone to visit you." Agott swallowed. "I wish I could have traded my mother's life for yours. She doesn't even speak to me when we pass in the hall – everything I've done, and I still haven't earned my place back…"
"Oh, Agott."
"I wish that I had something to offer you after all this time," Agott said. "I was supposed to become someone, wasn't I? Wasn't that what I worked so hard for?"
"You've become someone," Coco said. "You've become Agott Arklaum. That's a pretty wonderful thing to be, I think."
Agott finally turned to look at her. Coco was smiling, a soft smile like she held a secret, but this time Agott could see the secret, and it was no secret at all. "You became someone too," she said finally, her eyes holding Coco's. She wanted to say something equally as warm, something about Coco having made the right choice, but the words were still like unripe bitter berries in her stomach. "I like her."
This time, when Coco kissed her, Agott was ready for it, and she let it be so sweet that it almost turned her inside out. She thought of Qifrey's teaching, of yearning and having, and how the world had not ended after he gave in to desire. Coco's hands were warm despite the temperature as they came up to touch Agott's cloak, and Agott's own hands clumsily grasped at the apprentice robe Coco wore, finding her waist underneath the shapeless garment and holding her fast. She tasted like wine and apples. The sting of magic was in Agott's nose despite no pens having been drawn.
Coco stepped forward and stumbled on a tree root, and she broke the kiss with a startled yelp, pulling Agott's cloak so the neckline rubbed harshly against her throat. "Oops," Coco said, and then she started to laugh. It was so infectious that Agott started to laugh too, helpless to resist, and they held each other against the tree and giggled into each other's mouths like they were fifteen years younger and no time had passed at all.
"Let's go home," Coco said, still holding onto Agott's cloak with one hand as she bent to pick up the discarded lantern. "I mean, the atelier."
Agott sighed out. She felt drunk and prickly with happiness, and too tired by far to fight with herself. "Let's go home," she said. The weight of her cloak was heavy with impending decisions, the words about the Tower that she had said and could not take back, but those could wait until the morning. The brightest, kindest minds in Zozah were all gathered in the atelier, and she remembered another lesson she had worked hard to forget: problem-solving should never be a lonely endeavour. She put her hand around Coco's and held it tightly. "Lead the way."