Page 77 of Enchanted Village

It was a mistake but not a mortal one.

Elliott had sensed Silas’s distress when Wyatt left. He hadn’t told Elliott what, exactly, was wrong, but he knew his uncle could tell. Still, Silas kept that, at least, a secret. He’d already revealed the garden’s location to one person that night. He’d thought about it over and over, how he’d accidentally led Wyatt into the garden; he’d decided that the magic must’ve assumed that Silas was leading Wyatt in, and that had been what allowed the boy to enter. Regardless, he wasn’t going to make the mistake again and tell another soul about the entrance.

“I think it’s time to contact the boy’s guardians,” Elliott had said, picking up a book from his desk and handing it to Silas. “Not now, obviously, as it’s quite late. But in the morning. They should know that Wyatt’s struggling.”

The book was on Silas’s desk at the inn now, staring at him. Silas had tried to ignore it until the morning, but he kept turning the conversation over in his head. What would he say to Wyatt’s father? Wyatt’s mother was gone. He’d always found that the fathers were too strict, either too quick to jump to their child’s defense or join the offense. But Wyatt’s father might be like him, quiet and thoughtful.

Silas got up from out of bed. He couldn’t fall asleep anyway. He’d look up the information and write the letter now. In the morning, he’d go to Margaret and ask her to send Bernie with it, or he’d ask his uncle. But either way, better to get it out of his head now.

He went to his desk and opened the book. It was organized by year and written clearly by quill in clean, neat ink. He found the page for fifth-years, turned to it, and looked for Wyatt’s name.

He found it.

“No,” Silas said, heart lurching and dropping into his stomach. “It’s not possible.”

He dropped the book on his desk, grabbed his coat and shoes, and sprinted from the room.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

The next day, Margaret woke up early, brimming with ideas. She sent Liza a letter to get over to the Toasty Owl as soon as possible, and this time, it was Liza who showed up with pastries and coffee. And not just pastries and coffee—she showed up with Priya and Sarah as well.

“I told them we’re doing the relaunch,” Liza said. “We’re going to make this place look the best it’s ever been.”

And for once, Margaret didn’t feel the prick in her heart that she was betraying her mother or grandmother. She felt hope there instead. Hope that she was doing the right thing.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Margaret told Priya and Sarah as they sat down at the bar. “I’ve got an idea for a fresh menu—”

There was a thud from the door as it flew open. Priya shrieked as two black figures stepped inside. Sarah grabbed her wife’s hand to keep her from falling off her stool.

Margaret’s eyes widened as the cloaked figures stepped inside. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing—or who.

“Hyde?” she asked. “Jeremiah?”

The two boys pushed down their cloaks. They didn’t smile, but their lips twitched as close to a smile as they could reasonably get.

“Miss Liza reached out to us,” Hyde said. “She said you needed help, Miss Margaret.”

Margaret could’ve wrapped them both up in hugs, but she didn’t dare trust herself not to sob all over them. Instead, she looked at Liza, who was grinning ear to ear.

“I figured we need all hands on deck,” she said.

“We’re ready,” the brothers said in unison, only sounding slightly terrifying and foreboding. “Whatever you need, Miss Margaret.”

Beside Margaret, Priya lowered her voice. “Where’d she find these two? In a graveyard?”

Margaret laughed, then clapped her hands together. “All right, everyone. We’ve got a lot to do. Let’s get started.”

While Liza got to work on the spells to expand the kitchen and Sarah and Priya started brainstorming Toasty Owl–themed baked goods, Margaret sent Hyde and Jeremiah out to talk to the other business owners about possibly pitching in for the relaunch. Part of it felt like asking for charity, but Margaret tried to remember Silas’s words about how people wanted to help.

She also tried not to think about how Silas hadn’t shown up all day. It wasn’t like him. Liza assured her he must’ve gotten busy with something at school—he had had to dash away in an emergency, after all—and Margaret truly believed that to be the case.

But still. It was odd.

Regardless, she and Liza worked tirelessly to make sure the spell’s expansion charm looked just right. In the end, Liza was able to give her several feet more in the kitchen, and after they’d discussed it together, she was able to engrave a sort of mosaic of creatures into the wood on the cabinets behind the bar. They were the same cabinets her grandmother had picked out all those years ago, but now, they also felt remarkably . . . Margaret.

Hyde and Jeremiah returned later with what Margaret decided were favorable reports. They said people were interested, but time would tell if they actually chipped in. They tried some of Sarah’s and Priya’s baked goods and broke into legitimate smiles—the truest victory of the day.

With all the activity, Margaret was able to keep her anxiety at bay through the evening when everyone left. But the fact that Silas hadn’t come, that she hadn’t heard from him at all . . .