Chapter 15: Wicked
Seeking feedback on my work-in-process cozy fantasy novel, Jack and the Beanstalk Cafe.
Gillian
Jack hadn’t spoken another word to Gillian the rest of the train ride back to London. He sat with his arms crossed, staring out the window, watching the dark countryside slide past.
Gillian eyed him as he occasionally stole furtive glances at her, a muscle in his jaw feathering whenever they made eye contact.
He clearly wasn’t taking the news of the existence of a magical world well. She couldn’t blame him. He was a scientist, after all. But Gillian also couldn’t deny it hurt to confirm her worst suspicions— that he wouldn’t accept her once he knew the truth.
Frankly, she hadn’t really thought about what would happen when he found out. She’d been in denial that he would ever discover her true nature. He was always so… happy. Excited about his research, pleased with his Earl Gray tea, overall just kind to her. Gillian had been content to pretend that she was a normal girl. She should have known better.
But, as she continued to remind herself, her feelings didn’t matter. There were bigger things at stake. With Alice in her father’s clutches, she had no idea what was going to happen. The old woman seemed obstinate, but she had no idea how Alice would withstand whatever torture her father had planned.
“I got it,” Jack said gruffly as Gillian reached for her rucksack in the overhead bin when the train came to a screeching halt at Paddington Station.
He pulled down both their bags and slung them over his shoulders. Gillian opened her mouth, but he stalked off before she could thank him. Staring after him for a moment, she clamped her mouth shut and hurried off the train to catch up.
Jack had paused, waiting for her to exit the train, but once he caught sight of her, he set off again at a fast gait. Gillian trailed after him, wondering if they would ever get back to their easy camaraderie.
She sighed, watching him weave through the sparse crowd. His shoulders were stiff, and she saw his hand was clenched beside him. A few flecks of dried blood clung to his hair where she’d missed when washing his wound. Her heart stuttered when she thought about him lying on the crypt floor, half-dead because of her.
Even if Jack never spoke to her again, Gillian would always be happy he was alive. She couldn’t stand the idea of a world without Jack Kyteler in it.
He led them to the underground station where they would catch the next train to King’s Cross. Gillian came to a stop beside him, where he stood staring across the tracks at an advertisement for the musical, Wicked, playing in the West End.
“So, is that what I am, then?” Jack asked suddenly, still staring straight ahead.
Gillian looked over to him, confused at the non sequitur. “Sorry?”
“Wicked,” he said, nodding toward the advertisement. “Am I the Wicked Witch of the West or Glinda the Good Witch?”
Gillian huffed out a laugh. She thought he’d been brooding over her existence as a vampire. She felt so silly that she hadn’t thought to reassure him about his own existence as something other.
“Jack,” she turned toward him and reached out a hand to rest on his arm. Then, thought better of it and pulled back, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear to mask the movement. “You don’t have to be either extreme. You’re still you– a scientist who–”
“A scientist?” he interrupted her with a scoff, finally turning to face her. “How can I seriously go back to studying archaeology and following logical steps of hypotheses and research and conclusions when there is this whole unexplained world I know nothing about?”
“Science is still real. Everything you know is as true today as it was yesterday. There is just more knowledge now. More things you get to discover.”
Jack looked at her skeptically, eyes slightly narrowed and brows raised. He glanced around the tube station, as if searching for answers.
“But you’re telling me I can do,” he paused, lowering his voice. “Magic. How does that even work? How can I take the laws of gravity seriously when I can probably just levitate things with my mind?”
Gillian laughed. “I won’t pretend I know everything about how magic works. That’s why we need to talk to Phi. But there are also laws of magic. You’ll learn them and I’m sure it will make sense. You can even be a warlock researcher or magical historian. I’ve met a few professors from the University.”
Jack’s jaw slackened. “Wait, is Hogwarts real?”
Gillian was spared answering that ridiculous question by their train breezing into the station. When the few passengers onboard had exited, Jack stepped to the side to allow Gillian to board first.
“Mind the gap,” he said with a wink.
Gillian rolled her eyes, but secretly her heart soared at the teasing. Maybe things with Jack could go back to normal, afterall.
But that hope was quickly doused when Jack came to sit beside her. Their hands briefly brushed as he settled in and he pulled away quickly. From the corner of her eye, Gillian saw him grasp the leather strap of his satchel, knuckles white.
She angled her body away from him and watched the couple sitting a few seats over. She didn’t want to risk catching Jack’s eyes in the reflection of the windows, sure she wouldn't like what she saw there.
The couple had boarded the same place they had, and were clearly exhausted from a long day. The woman’s gray hair was pulled back in a loose bun and she was bundled up in a long coat and scarf. She was nestled under the arm of the gentleman next to her, eyes closed.
Gillian was tired, too. She hadn’t slept since the night before leaving London. Unless you count the time she was poisoned and unconscious, which she certainly didn’t.
Watching as the old man absentmindedly rubbed a thumb on the woman’s shoulder, his gold wedding band glinted in the fluorescent lights of the train. Gillian’s heart ached. She would probably never experience the kind of comfort and ease that came with spending time with your life long partner. She thought she’d come to terms with this centuries ago, but something had changed in her over the last week. Gillian had inadvertently allowed herself something she hadn’t had since Luca– hope.
Gillian and Jack remained pensive throughout the train ride and the short walk back to the cafe. Seeing the Beanstalk nestled on the familiar road between the second hand bookshop and accounting office, Gillian felt her shoulders loosen for the first time since stepping out its doors barely 24 hours before.
There was a faint glow coming from the windows, signaling that Philomena was still downstairs working and hadn’t gone up to her flat for the night yet. Gillian quickly stepped toward the door, her keys already out.
“Jack, don’t forget what I said about Phi being a gnome. It’s–” she paused, suddenly realizing that Jack was no longer beside her.
“Jack?” she called after him, where he had continued walking past the cafe.
He turned, looking at her with eyebrows furrowed. “What are you doing?”
“We’re going to the cafe, remember?”
“Yes, I know,” Jack said slowly. “So, why did you stop?”
Gillian cocked her head. “This is the cafe, Jack.”
Jack’s eyes roamed the storefronts but seemed to skip right over the cafe’s door.
“That’s not funny, Gillian. I think you should get away from there. Let’s go,” he said, starting to back away.
What is going on?
Gillian gasped. The wards. The cafe’s magical wards were finally working on Jack.
“Jack, wait right there, ok? I’m going to get Phi.” She scrambled to unlock the Beanstalk’s front door and poked her head inside.
“Phi? Are you there?” she called. “Something is going on with the wards. Jack can’t see the cafe.”
Not waiting for Phi to reply, Gillian turned back toward Jack and found him walking away again. She called to him and he turned, eyebrows pulled together.
“Gillian? What are you doing back there?”
She sighed but before she could answer, she heard Philomena rush through the doors behind her.
“Oh, my,” the gnome squeaked. “How can it be? Is that–? He’s a Kyteler. No wonder.”
Gillian turned toward Philomena, wondering how the cook knew about Jack’s name. But before she could ask, Philomena snapped her fingers and a sizzle of static filled the air.
Jack jumped back and stared in shock.
“Where–? How–?” His eyes were wide and darting between Philomena and the cafe.
“Come in, boy, come in. I’ll explain everything,” Philomena gestured for Jack to follow as she turned back and disappeared behind the cafe’s door.
Jack dutifully followed, still staring in awe at the building. As he approached Gillian, he glanced at her in wonder. “The cafe just appeared,” he whispered. “How?”
Gillian sighed, shaking her head. “Phi will explain,” she said, gesturing for him to go ahead of her.
She stepped in after him and quickly turned to lock the door behind her. Taking a deep breath, she readied herself for what was sure to be a long night.
But when she’d turned back to face the room, Philomena was just standing there, her mouth agape. She was staring at Gillian with wide eyes, like she’d seen a ghost.
“My gods, it’s you,” Philomena whispered, raising a hand to her mouth. “Gealán MacDermott.”
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So... Temporarily ignoring the last couple of paragraphs, I can see how this was not a 'planned chapter'. I find Jack's character comes across much more richly here (but still in a men don't say what they feel way). It feels like you *had* to write this one for the characters, not to get to a plot point. I very much like that approach. More please.