Free A Tale of Magic... by Brandon Dorman Page B

had me worried half to death! I almost sent for the King’s Royal Guard!”
    “I’m so sorry, Mother!” Brystal panted. “I—I—I can explain—”
    “There better be a good reason why you weren’t in your bed this morning!”
    “It—it—it was an accident!” Brystal said, and quickly fabricated an excuse. “I was up late making beds at the Home for the Hopeless.… The beds looked so comfortable I couldn’t resist lying down.… The next thing I heard were the bells this morning! Oh, please forgive me! I’ll go inside and do the dishes from dinner right away!”
    Brystal tried to go inside the house, but Mrs. Evergreen blocked the front door.
    “This isn’t about the dishes!” her mother said. “You can’t imagine the fright you gave me! I convinced myself you were lying dead in an alley somewhere! Don’t ever do that to me again! Ever! ”
    “I won’t, I promise,” Brystal said. “Honestly, it was just a silly accident. I didn’t mean to worry you. Please don’t tell Father about this. If he finds out I was gone all night, he’ll never let me volunteer at the Home for the Hopeless again.”
    Brystal was in such a panic she couldn’t tell if her performance was convincing or not. The look behind her mother’s eyes was difficult to decipher, too. Mrs. Evergreen seemed convinced and unconvinced at the same time—like she knew her daughter wasn’t telling the truth but was choosing to believe her lies.
    “This volunteering …,” Mrs. Evergreen said. “Whatever it entails, you must be more careful if you don’t want to lose it. Your father will have no problem taking it away if he thinks it’s making you irresponsible.”
    “I know,” Brystal said. “And it’ll never happen again. I swear.”
    Mrs. Evergreen nodded and softened her stern glare. “Good. I may only see you for a few minutes each morning, but I can tell volunteering is making you happy,” she said. “You’ve been a different person since you started. It’s nice to see you so content. I would hate for anything to change that.”
    “It makes me very happy, Mother,” Brystal said. “Actually, I didn’t realize I could be so happy.”
    Despite her daughter’s excitement, something about Brystal’s enthusiasm made Mrs. Evergreen noticeably sad.
    “Well, that’s wonderful, dear,” she said with an unconvincing smile. “I’m pleased to hear it.”
    “You don’t seem very pleased,” Brystal said. “What’s the matter, Mother? Am I not supposed to be happy?”
    “What? No, of course not. Everyone deserves a little happiness now and then. Everyone . And nothing makes me happier than knowing you’re happy, it’s just… it’s just…”
    “What?”
    Mrs. Evergreen smiled at her daughter again, but this time Brystal knew it was genuine.
    “I just miss having you around, that’s all,” she admitted. “Now get upstairs before your father or brothers see you. I’ll do the dishes while you wash up. When you’re finished you can help me in the kitchen. Happiness or no happiness, breakfast doesn’t cook itself.”

    The following week Brystal took her mother’s advice to heart. To prevent herself from falling asleep in the library again, Brystal limited her nightly reading to just one hour after she finished her evening duties (two hours at the most if she found something really good) before packing up and heading home. She didn’t get to read nearly as much as she wanted, but any time at the library was better than none.
    Late one night, while searching for something to read, Brystal strolled down a long, winding hall on the second floor. Of all the sections in the library, she figured this was the least popular because it always needed the most dusting. The shelves were filled with collections of old public records and outdated ordinances—so it was no mystery why the hall was virtually forgotten.
    As Brystal browsed the shelves at the end of the hall, a book on the very top shelf caught her attention.