Lady Ann's Folly: Chapter Two - Part Four

“What do you mean, not go through with it?” asked Mavis grumpily, eyeing the money on the table. “Does that mean I don’t get paid?”

“Of course you won’t you ignorant girl,” snapped Ann. “The payment was for a service that you will no longer be carrying out. Why should you get paid for doing nothing? I’ll pay you... two shillings for your trouble.”

“Two bob? For getting trussed up like this?”

“Yes,” snapped Ann, “and you’ll be grateful for that.” She set the pendant on the table and started work on untying Mavis’s bonds.

There was a stony silence between them as Ann struggled with the knots. She wished now that she hadn’t made them so tight but it couldn’t be helped. She had a good mind to leave the girl bound to teach her a lesson for her impudence but she went on working instead. She got Mavis’s hands free first and then finally both legs.

Both women stood and Ann folded her arms crossly, angry at herself for various reasons: that she hadn’t had the guts to go through with it; because she’d had the weakness to want it in the first place. Now that the moment was passed she felt almost total relief; only the slightest regret.

For all she knew the pendant only allowed a one way change. Even if it worked to turn her into Mavis it might not allow her to swap back. She could lose that wonderful life forever. Or perhaps there was some kind of arcane time constraint; a limit before its powers could be used again. With only her experience with Burt as a test it might even take weeks to recharge.

Yes. Not going through with it was the correct decision, without doubt. She would always wonder what it would have been like to become the wench; but a lifetime of vague regret was far better than a lifetime actually trapped as a mere barmaid, the wife probably of a stablehand; the matronly mother of eight mewling peasant children.

“What’s this for anyway?” asked Mavis and Ann turned, just in time to see her pick up the pendant by its chain from where it lay.

A jolt went through Ann’s body from head to foot; panic sufficient to freeze her in place. “That isn’t yours,” she said sharply, almost desperately. “Give it back.” She extended her hand, palm up and noticed again the sleeve of the barmaid’s garb she was wearing. That panic climbed even higher.

Mavis clearly noticed the change in pitch and imperative and a smirk danced across her lips. “Is it a family hair-loom or somethin?”

“Hand it to me. Now,” said Ann.

Mavis raised the chain, looking at the designs carved into the smooth grey surface. She turned her wrist and the pendant twirled, the gold banding catching a snippet of reflected sunlight from the dusty windows. Mavis lifted her other hand toward the pebble itself, fingers stretching.

Ann recalled the magical insertion of knowledge at its first touch and snatched forward saying, “No!”

Her own palm came up against the stone and gold hooping and her fingers started to close, but at the same instant, Mavis’s free hand reached it and closed in from the other direction, their hands touching, the artefact trapped between, forming that same terrible circuit as had occurred one month earlier between lady and servant.

Instantly Ann realised the impulsive error she had made but it was far too late.

It was far far too late to stop it now.