Chapter Thirty

"Well, of course you'll stay here." Mable's older sister Jeanne said, leaning over her expansive dining room table to place a plate full of fresh baked muffin in front of Mable. "There's no point in your going back to Vermont, now that Dad is all settled."

Mable watched Jeanne as she went back in the kitchen and brought out some mugs and her favorite teapot, thinking as her sister placed mugs in front of her and Colette that Jeanne somehow turned domesticity into an art form.

It never failed to amaze her that they could share the same genes but still be completely different in looks. Jeanne shared the same reddish hair as Mable and her father, though hers was more auburn that Mable's red-gold. She had it pulled back in a ponytail, accentuating her fair skin and grey-green eyes. She was six years older than Mable, but Jeanne's youthful face and leggy figure meant that she always looked as if she had just graduated college, even though she was a mother of two school-age children and had been married for almost a decade.

The three sisters sat in Jeanne's home in the suburbs of Boston, enjoying the temporary quiet while Mable's nieces were at school and her brother-in-law at work. Jeanne's home was much like Jeanne herself; classy and elegant but not overly lavish. The walls were painted in deep earth tones, and the furniture was stylish, but in every room, there were reminders—a girl's light-up shoes tucked against a wall, a bin of toys in the corner, shelves filled with family-friendly movies and books—that a family lived here, loved each other here. Photos with Mable's grinning nieces were hung on the walls, occasionally joined by Jeanne or her husband. There were even a few pictures of Mable and Colette scattered about, usually in conjunction with one of Jeanne's wedding pictures. It was much like their childhood home Mable had left yesterday; the novelty of the day-to-day and the assurance of happy memories all gathered under one roof.

"Mable, you aren't eating." Jeanne pointed out anxiously. Mable hastily took a bite of one of her muffins. Unlike Colette, who had been following Mable around pestering her with questions about where she had been like a bloodhound on the scent, Jeanne didn't seem to care where Mable had been these past few months. She didn't ask any questions when Mable and Colette had showed up on her doorstep the other day; she had just hugged Mable tight and had been giving her a smothering kind of love ever since. This included serving all of Mable's favorite meals for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and forcing Mable's littlest niece out of her bedroom so Mable could have a "proper bed" instead of the couch.

Satisfied, now that Mable was making her way through another muffin, Jeanne poured them all some tea. "I already talked to Dan about this last night." She told Mable as she handed her the mug. "The girls can share Felicia's bedroom, and you can stay where you are in Rosie's bedroom. The girls would love having you here all the time. You can go back to school if you want, there are plenty around…"

"Or you can get a job doing something you like, save up some money for your own place." Colette said from behind her laptop. She had spent the morning catching up on work, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she answered e-mails and went over legal documents. She had also spent the night instead of driving back to her apartment in New York. Mable had a feeling that her sister was just biding her time before she interrogated Mable again. "There are plenty of condos or apartments in the area."

"And you can visit Dad whenever you want." Jeanne sipped her own tea, now that she had put another three muffins on Mable's plate. Colette, Mable had noticed with a bit of smugness, had to lean over to get her own share of muffins. "He's only thirty minutes away. We can even sell the old house. After all, there's no need for you to be all the way up there now that Dad's all settled. You can use the money for school, or your own place, like Colette said."

"We grew up there." Mable pointed out.

"It's just a house, Mable." Jeanne said calmly. "We can go back up in a few weeks, the three of us, and pick through any of the stuff that we want to keep, pieces that have sentimental value. Those are the important things, not the house itself."

Mable couldn't argue with that, because she did agree with Jeanne. She had fought so hard to come back to the people she loved, not a house that, for the past few years, had felt more like a prison than a home.

Surreptitiously she snuck her hand in the pocket of her sweatshirt to caress the hilt of the mirror that was tucked inside. She didn't miss the castle, not really. Oh, occasionally she missed the luxury of it; the beautiful paintings adorning the walls, the secret rooms that would magically appear, the library.

But it was much like a few years ago, before her father's illness, she and her sisters had taken a trip to a resort down in Florida. There was luxury there too, but when they had returned, Mable had realized that it wasn't the resort she missed, but the time she had got to spend with her sisters without work or school interrupting.

She missed the people in the castle, the people who had grown to be her friends over such a short period of time. She wanted to spend an evening curled up on Maddie's bed, making up a story. She wanted Monsieur Lune here to offer fatherly advice, or to spend an hour with Carnier in the kitchen fighting over the proper way to make a recipe. She missed her daily girl-talks with Labelle, and working in the greenhouse with Madame Cecile. She even wished she had gotten a chance to spend more time with Maestro—they had only just started getting along when she was pulled away without so much as a goodbye.

She didn't dare let her thoughts drift to the one person she yearned to see, because every time she did the ache became too painful.

"Mable, are you all right?" Jeanne was peering at her with concern. Mable snatched her hand out of her pocket, hoping that the grief hadn't shown on her face. "Do you need to go lie down? You look pale."

"What she needs to do is tell us where she has been all this time." Colette said, closing her laptop with a snap. "You said you would tell us when we were all together." Her tone was slightly accusatory.

"It doesn't matter." Jeanne scowled at their sister. "What matters is you're back now. You are safe, and everything can get back to normal around here."

"No, Colette's right." Mable felt her heartbeat speed up. Telling her sisters about the castle was risky; she might find herself in a home much less accommodating than the one her father now lived in. "I should tell you where I have been. But…" She gave both Jeanne and Colette a hard stare. "You need to promise you'll listen to the entire story before you say anything, all right? And try to have an open mind." This was aimed at Colette.

Jeanne and Colette exchanged glances. "All right, Mable. We promise."

Slowly, Mable pulled the mirror out of her sweatshirt pocket and placed it on the table. She took her necklace out from under her shirt but left it on. It felt reassuring, like a friend holding her hand as she started from when she left the house that fateful day two months ago.

It took a while. The tea cooled in their mugs as Mable told them about the unexpected fall, the snowstorm, the castle appearing out of the darkness just as she was afraid she would freeze to death. She told them about her first meeting with Monsieur Lune and Madame Cecile, and meeting Maddie the next day. She jumped ahead and told them about Labelle, about her enthusiasm and support of the new guest. She explained how she fought for days, for weeks, trying every way she could to contact them, or find a way back.

She told them about Theo, fighting to keep her tone noncommittal as she explained the reason for his appearance, and his initial attitude towards her, an attitude that eventually transformed into friendship.

As she talked she watched their faces, and her heart sank as she saw a crease deepen between Jeanne's brows and Colette's cheeks redden the longer she went on. She knew this would be hard for them; she supposed if she had been in their shoes she might not believe her story either.

She pushed the mirror towards them, and drew their eye to the necklace. She had been hoping that these two items would be evidence, would show them that she wasn't making this up. But they didn't so much as blink at the mirror, and they only gave the necklace a cursory glance as Mable wrapped her up her tale.

"I went to bed that night, and when I woke up I was here." She finished. She took a gulp of her cold tea, her throat scratchy from speaking for so long.

Jeanne and Colette's faces, she noticed, were frozen in the same, stony expressions they had pasted on at the beginning of her story.

Nervously, Mable took a bite of another muffin, even though she wasn't at all hungry.

Colette exploded out of her chair with a curse and paced around the dining room, fury in every line of her petite frame. "What do you take us for?" She yelled, slamming her hands on the table. "You're gone for months, months, and the best you can do is this ludicrous story about some castle in the woods. Do you have any idea how crazy you sound?"

Mable swallowed her bite of muffin. "I know how it sounds." She snapped back. "But it's the truth."

Colette snorted loudly. Ever the mature one, Jeanne rose from her seat, holding a hand out to stop Colette's angry retort. "Mable, you have to understand…this story is just so—so—"

"Unbelievable." Mable nodded, her mouth curving up wryly in spite of her sister's distress. "I know that, Jeannie. Hell, I spent the last few months living in it. But don't you think, if I wanted to lie to you guys about where I have been, I would have come up with a slightly more believable story? Maybe one that had some grounding in reality?"

"You were always the one who enjoyed fantasy and make-believe." Colette huffed from the corner.

Mable frowned at her sisters. "Yeah, I know, but that doesn't mean I'd use it as an excuse to run away from home. And where would I have gotten the mirror, or the necklace?" she tugged lightly at the necklace around her throat. "I'm living off of your money, remember? Where would I have gotten the cash to pay for this, without you knowing? I'm sure—" she flicked a glance toward Colette, "that you checked my bank account for activity after I left."

Colette didn't meet her gaze. "We should take her to the hospital." She said to Jeanne. "Or a therapist. For all we know, this could end up being a hereditary condition, or like Dad—"

"This isn't like Dad!" Furious, Mable shot up from her chair and glared at her sisters. "I promised to tell you the truth, and I am. It's not my fault you choose not to believe it." She told them hotly. "I'm your sister, can't you just try to believe me, instead of shoving me at some doctor and hoping that there is a medical explanation?"

Jeanne opened her mouth as if to speak, but the front door suddenly slammed open and Mable heard the familiar voices of her nieces before they bolted into the room.

"We're home." Her oldest niece, Felicia, announced their presence. She was her mother's child, her auburn hair pulled back in a messy braid. Eyes the same grey-green as Jeanne's lit up when she saw the muffins on the table. "Oh great, snacks. I'm starving." She grabbed a muffin.

"I want one." protested her younger sister, Rose. Pasting on a smile, Mable helped her youngest niece grab a muffin and sat down next to her at the table. Rose was her father's miniature, her dark curls hiding no hint of red or gold. Unlike the rest of the family, though, her eyes were a brilliant green, and she narrowed them as she sensed the tension in the room. "What's going on?"

Jeanne forced a smile on her face. "Nothing, Rosie. We were just talking." Mable and Colette both nodded, as if this was exactly what they had been doing.

Rose's eyebrows knit together. "It feels as if you were arguing." She accused.

"No, no. Just…talking." Frantic, Jeanne grabbed another pair of muffins and handed one to each of her daughters. "Why don't you two go eat your snacks in the other room, and we'll finish up? I still need to start dinner."

With a careless shrug, Felicia took the muffin and wandered into the other room to watch television. Rose followed, but not before sending them all a look filled with suspicion as she left.

The three sisters sighed in unison as the sounds of the television being turned on echoed from the other room.

"So now what?" Mable was still fuming, but she kept her voice low so that the girls wouldn't hear. "You going to call the mental hospital, have them come pick me up before dessert? Maybe they should do it in front of the girls, so they know that Auntie Mable will be going away for a while."

"Stop it, Mable." Colette hissed back. "This isn't easy for us, you know."

"Easy for you? I—"

"Enough." Like it had throughout most of Mable's childhood, Jeanne's firm voice cut through the bickering. "We're not calling anyone. Mable, go upstairs and—and lay down or something. I'll call you for dinner."

"And then what?" Mable couldn't keep the bitterness out of her voice.

"And then we have a nice dinner, without mentioning any of this to the girls, and go to bed. We'll sleep on it, and think of a solution tomorrow morning." Jeanne gave both her younger sisters a slashing look before stalking back into the kitchen.

Mable and Colette eyed each other a moment longer, debating if it was worth Jeanne's wrath to continue their argument. Colette broke eye contact first, grabbing her laptop with a murmured excuse about working in the study.

Mable grabbed the mirror off the table and put it back in the pocket of her sweatshirt. Forcing back the frustrated tears threatening to spill over, Mable hurried past her nieces, who were curled up on the couch watching a silly afternoon T.V show. She bolted upstairs to the room she had stayed in last night. She had an impulse to slam the door behind her, but that was too childish, so she closed it with care and lay on the pink, ruffled quilt on her niece's bed

Alone, she let the tears fall, gripping the mirror in her hands. She had guessed that her sisters wouldn't believe her, but there had been a small, traitorous part of her that hoped the mirror and necklace would be enough.

She traced the ivy leaves etched into the mirror's back. She should have made something up, she thought morosely. She should have just let her sisters think she had felt burnt out and had taken off for a few months to recharge. Yeah, they would have been furious with her, and called her a flake, but certainly that was better than being a crazy person, wasn't it? The idea of going back to school or getting her own place had appealed to her initially, but now all she could think was that she would have to spend the rest of her life having her family watch her out of the corner of their eye, waiting for her to say or do something to justify shipping her off to a mental asylum.

She didn't belong here anymore. This life with her father and sisters was like a coat that fit her fine a few months ago, but was now just too small to be comfortable. She still loved her sisters, adored her father, but the truth was that the castle felt more like home to her now than being around her own family.

No, she thought suddenly. It wasn't the castle that was home; it was being with Theo. It scared her how much her love for him had grown in the short time she had been gone. She had thought that being back in her old world would help her forget, help her to move on, but being here without him was getting more painful each day. A thousand times today a question would pop into her head; was he thinking about her? Did he miss her at all? Was he upset she hadn't said good-bye, or was he relieved that she was finally gone? She had hastily shoved these questions away, distracting herself, but now she felt them burning in her chest. She wondered if, the night before she was sent home, she should have told him that she loved him. Where would they be now, if she hadn't been a coward and had just told him how she felt?

Mable sat up on the bed, holding the mirror up to her face. After failing earlier, she had wanted to wait until she was alone to try and use it again. Now she wiped the tears from her face and held the mirror in front of it. The need to see Theo was like a buzzing under her skin, so strong it made her breath quicken and her heart pound.

"Show me Theo's study." She commanded the mirror, ignoring the hoarseness in her voice.

She stared at the mirror's face greedily, watching as fog rolled into the frame. She waited several moments for it to clear, for her to get an image of Theo's study, but no image appeared.

She frowned. She had been too preoccupied to wonder why the mirror hadn't worked earlier in the day. She supposed the magic could have worn off, but then why was the glass fogging like it did before?

"Show me the library." She ordered, because that had worked last time.

The fog merely shifted itself within the frame and didn't clear, even after several minutes.

A seed of worry planted itself inside Mable's core. It wasn't just a matter of the mirror not working, but the fact that it still fogged like it had the first few times she had used it. The fog didn't even dissipate after a few moments, but stirred and moved around within the frame while she watched. It was as if it was trying to show her the library, or Theo's study, but couldn't find them.

Worry bloomed into panic. Her instincts were screaming at her, telling her that the mirror wasn't working because there was something wrong, terribly wrong, happening back at the castle. Mable stared at the mirror for a few more heartbeats, then jumped up and grabbed a knapsack out of her niece's closet.

She had to go back. She would go back, find the castle, searching all night if she had to…

She stopped her half-crazed packing when she heard the front door open and her brother-in-law's voice call out.

She couldn't just leave now. Her sisters would hear her leaving, would try and stop her. Besides, she had worked so hard to get back, and her sisters had been so worried. She couldn't just bolt without any explanation.

She reached for the necklace around her throat. She would leave first thing tomorrow, she promised herself. She would leave a note for them, explaining what happened and where she was going. By the time they found out, she would be halfway to Vermont and they wouldn't be able to stop her.

But one thing was certain, she thought as she picked up the mirror, scowling when she saw the fog still roiling about in the frame.

She had to go back.

Mable snuck down the stairs the next morning, knapsack thrown over one shoulder as she navigated her way down the dark staircase. It was early enough that she would reach Vermont by the time the sun started to come up. She crept through the living room, past a sleeping Colette, who didn't so much as twitch when Mable brushed by her towards the kitchen.

Mable had tried to act normal during last night's dinner. She hadn't mentioned the castle or where she had been for the past few months, but focused on her niece's school activities and her brother-in-law's work. Jeanne and Colette had barely spoken to her, but Mable had felt their eyes on her the entire night, watching for any sign of insanity. Mable had finished her dinner, made an excuse about having a headache, and had gone back upstairs to pack and wait for morning.

She had barely slept, the mirror clutched in her hands as she lay on the bed, listening to the sounds of her family getting ready for bed. She hoped fervently that she was wrong, that the mirror was just broken or couldn't work outside the castle. But her intuition kept warning her that Theo was in danger, that she had to help him. She tossed and turned, her sleep broken by nightmares and panic until the alarm on her cell phone beeped.

Mable had packed a couple of changes of clothes, and had dressed for the cold; a pair of jeans over fleece leggings and a bulky sweatshirt over a turtleneck. She was already sweating, but she knew once she got out into the cold she would be grateful for the added heat.

She snuck into the kitchen, intending to grab a quick bite to eat and write a note, but was surprised to find the light in the kitchen on and her sister Jeanne seated at the kitchen island, nursing a cup of tea. Jeanne's brows went up when she spotted Mable.

"Couldn't sleep?" she said dryly.

"What are you doing up?"

"I like to be up early, before the girls and Dan wake up. It gives me some time to myself." Jeanne's eyes raked over the knapsack in Mable's hand. "Is it too much to ask for you to wake us and let us know where you are going, before you disappear again?"

Mable opened her mouth with retort, but closed it, staring at the woman who had been the only mother she had ever known. Ignoring the voice in her head that was insisting she leave, now, she dropped her pack on the ground and sat down on the other side of the island. "I wasn't going to disappear again, Jeannie." She said quietly. "I was going to leave you a note."

"Well, that's a relief." Her voice filled with biting sarcasm, Jeanne glared at Mable across the countertop. "It just eases my mind, knowing you would have left a note before going off into God-knows-where."

"You don't understand." Mable leaned forward. "I have to go back. I just…I got this feeling something is really wrong at the castle. I think Theo might be in danger. I need to go back and help him."

"Because you love him?"

Mable felt her cheeks flush, and she sat back in shock. "How could you possibly know that?"

"You didn't do a very good job of hiding it." Jeanne's lips twitched. "You were very careful when you talked about him, but you couldn't quite keep your feelings hidden."

"I never was any good at it." Mable admitted. Taking a deep breath, she told her sister, "I love him." It was the first time she said it out loud; the words felt strange, but absolutely right, on her tongue. "I love him, and I need to get back to him."

Jeanne's eyes had darkened to a somber grey. "You're certain something is wrong?"

Mable nodded. "I know you don't believe me." Jeanne gave a harsh intake of breath, but Mable held up her hand, asking for silence. "I know my story last night sounded crazy…that I sounded crazy. But can you believe that this is something I have to do?"

Jeanne pursed her lips, exasperated. "I don't have much choice, do I?"

Mable smiled wanly. "Not unless you plan to bar the doorway."

To Mable's delight, her older sister muttered something incredibly rude under her breath. "No, I won't bar the door. But you need to promise me that you will call the minute you have finished…whatever this is. Got it? You can't just leave us in the dark again."

Mable got up from the counter and hugged her sister. "That, I can promise." Jeanne hugged her back tightly.

Mable rest her head on her sister's shoulder. She would keep her promise, she told herself. No matter what happened with Theo. She wouldn't leave her sisters to worry about her again.

After a few long moments, Jeanne gently nudged her aside. "You're going to need some coffee for the ride." She muttered, hiding her face behind her hair as she trudged over to the machine. Mable let her fuss with it, making herself some toast while her sister pulled herself together.

"Should we tell Colette?" Mable asked after a moment.

Jeanne shook her head. "Let her sleep. I'll talk to her when she wakes up." She turned from the coffee maker to give Mable a dry smile. "Colette never was one for love stories. You, you always loved the ones where two people fell in love and lived happily ever after."

Mable smiled back as her sister handed her a cup of coffee. "Let's hope this story has that kind of ending."

A few minutes later she was on the road. She hadn't dared let the car warm up in the driveway, afraid that if she stalled then she would talk herself out of going. Instead, she had wiped away enough of the frost on her windshield so that she could see, turned the heaters on full blast, and had left as soon as the car started.

Jeanne had hugged her again before she left, but had not come out to see her off.

As she headed down the dark road towards the highway, she glanced once more at the knapsack, where the mirror was tucked in the front pocket.

"Hold on, Theo." She murmured. "I'm one my way."