“It was yellow and green, and there was a huge, antiquated gas stove.” Molly glanced over the thoroughly modernized space with stainless steel appliances, cream-painted cabinets, and granite countertops.

“Funny how the magic chooses to manifest,” Sarah said. “I haven’t had that kitchen since the fifties.”

Molly accepted the tea with a murmur of thanks, eyeing the older woman sidelong as she slid into the opposite chair at the breakfast nook. Despite her illness, Sarah looked barely old enough to have been born in the fifties, let alone old enough to have had a kitchen.

“You’re one of those witches who’s older than you look.”

“One of ‘those witches’?” Sarah raised her eyebrows. “How many have you met?”

“One, before you.” The tea was delicious, and she drank thirstily. “I think he was born at the end of the Russian Empire. He taught me a few things that kept me from going crazy.”

Sarah regarded Molly curiously. “What kind of things?”

“My Power started to manifest telekinetically, so he showed me how to focus and use it at will. He also said at some point I would have the ability to slow down my aging, which he has done. I assume you have too?”

“Yes, I’m much older than I look.” Sarah’s expression turned dry. “And with the kind of Power you carry, you’ll be able to make the same choice, but I would encourage you to think hard about it. While you might gain a prolonged life, you’ll give up a lot in order to get it.”

“I wondered about that. The witch who helped me said he watched his children’s children die of old age, and he still looks like he’s in his midforties.” She looked down at her glass, reluctantly acknowledging how much she missed Josiah.

Sarah nodded. “If you use the spell of youth, eventually you’ll be saying goodbye to all your loved ones, their children, and their grandchildren. It is a hard choice, and at some point you will still die. We’re all human, after all, but you won’t face death until all the people you know and love have been dead and buried for a very long time.”

“I see.”

“Don’t look so stricken on my account,” Sarah said gently. “I’m not a victim. I knew what I was doing when I cast the spell. For all that I gave up, I gained a very long, fruitful, and interesting life. This is just the consequence of that choice. Besides, I’m not checking out quite yet.”

“No, you’re not.” Sam spoke from the doorway. “You made me a promise. You’re going to stick around for at least another year, hopefully two.”

“You know I can’t promise anything,” Sarah replied. “We’ll see how much time the chemo buys me.”