Chapter 11
The Enchantress's Lair
Antoinette learns about the enchantress and her magical talent agency, a place where dreams are twisted into contracts. The agency is described as gaudy and filled with desperate, magically altered hopefuls.
The air in Antoinette’s kitchen, usually a symphony of clanking mugs and the occasional dramatic sigh, had taken on a peculiar stillness. It was the kind of quiet that precedes a thunderclap, or, in Antoinette’s case, a particularly scathing review of a new artisanal cheese. Sacry, or rather, the new Sacry, was meticulously arranging miniature quiches on a platter, each one a perfect, golden dome. Antoinette watched, a knot of suspicion tightening in her stomach. It wasn’t just the quiches; it was everything. The way Sacry’s hair always seemed to catch the light just so, the unnervingly eloquent way she discussed existentialism while dusting bookshelves, the fact that she’d somehow mastered knitting without ever having touched a needle before yesterday.
“Honestly, Antoinette,” the new Sacry said, her voice like the chime of tiny silver bells, “you’re staring again. Is there something about these quiches that offends your delicate sensibilities?”
Antoinette bristled. “My sensibilities are perfectly robust, thank you very much. And yes, there is. They’re too perfect. They look like they were manufactured by tiny, incredibly talented elves. Where’s the charm? Where’s the slightly burnt edge that says, ‘I wrestled this quiche into submission and won, mostly’?”
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