Chapter 24 Kismet! Is That a Candy Bar,a Plan? #2
“As soon as I read that your mom was going to be competing in All-Stars, I knew this was my chance for revenge,” said Josephine.
Her voice turned icy. “But of course, it was impossible to pull this off on my own. I needed help, from someone powerful. Someone who would benefit even more than me from getting rid of Abby … and more importantly, you.”
Sylvie turned queasy. “You’re Bass’s mole—”
“I’d love to tell you you’re right.” Josephine gave Sylvie a wicked smile. “But a great chef never reveals all their secrets.”
Sylvie was still trying to make sense of it. “But Ms. Honeycut, she was the rat—”
“The librarian?” Josephine laughed. “That woman couldn’t cook her way out of a pot!
Of course, it wasn’t easy for me, hiding under Godard’s nose.
Once ingredients started disappearing, she grew suspicious.
Then, she realized there was a spy. I knew it was only a matter of time before she figured it out. ”
Sylvie recalled Kitty’s words: Spells can do more than keep people from getting in. At the time, she’d wondered what Kitty meant. Now, she thought she understood. They were trying to track down the school’s mole with magic.
Josephine moved closer. “I had to improvise, find a different source for my transformation supplies. The heist at Tidwick’s did the trick. But then, there were Godard’s other spells … the ones she put up to protect her students.”
Sylvie thought back to the staircase the night she’d broken into the school. She’d come so close to getting impaled, but at the last minute, the jaws on the stairs snapped shut. A protection spell.
“As long as you were at this school, I couldn’t break those down, at least not without drawing attention … until you stumbled into my kitchen, and a new idea formed.”
Sylvie’s mind turned numb. She didn’t want to listen … to believe.
Georgia started nervously gnawing on a nail.
Josephine pulled out her Blade. The knife glinted as she pulled a thin layer of film off the handle. The smudged fingerprints, interwoven into the onyx handle, sloughed off.
Sylvie let out a gasp. Two initials were now visible, etched in silver into the dark scales of the handle. JF.
“That’s the nice thing about being the kitchen help. No one bothers to pay you much attention.” Josephine reached out.
For a second, Sylvie thought Josephine was going to gut her like a fish.
Swoosh!
The knife pierced the tip of Sylvie’s finger, spilling crimson drops. Sylvie watched in horror as her blood turned into a wisp of black smoke. “Now, thanks to you, the protection spells Godard put up are gone.”
The dusty scent of her perfume wafted toward Sylvie. She could smell the dried roses. But now, they reminded her of something dead and shriveled.
What had her mom said before they parted ways in the garden? As long as you’re safe, I’ll be fine too. “There was a link between Godard’s protection spells here and the Golden Whisk… . Wasn’t there?”
Josephine nodded. “Students past and present were shielded by them.”
A new reality wrapped itself around Sylvie like a blanket of thorns. Godard’s work. Her mom’s sacrifices. All the risks Sylvie had taken to try and stop Bass … with one recipe she’d torn it all down. Thanks to me, Bass is getting exactly what he wants.
“You know, culinary competitions aren’t just about skill,” said Josephine. “You must be able to improvise and easily navigate obstacles. I may have failed back then, but this time I will succeed.”
Sylvie suddenly found herself full of regret. There were so many things she wanted to take back, do differently, but she couldn’t.
Boom! Rhump!
The oven gave a violent rattle.
“What was that?” cried Georgia.
Sylvie had a terrible feeling she knew. Rumbledethumps.
“That’s the signal that it’s time for me to leave,” said Josephine.
“You see, I’m going back to the Golden Whisk to prepare my greatest recipe yet, Vindicti-au-vent!
It’s time the judges, and Sylvie’s mom, pay for what they did to me.
As for you …” Her tongue made an audible tsk-tsk.
“Breaking down Godard’s spells, helping Josephine Flammé…
. Now it’ll be easy for Bass to get rid of you. ”
Sylvie’s insides turned wobbly. “A friend and enemy so close,” she muttered. “That’s what Kitty said when she read the transparent pie. At the time, I thought she was talking about Georgia, but that wasn’t it. The pie was trying to warn me about you.”
Boom! Rhump!
The oven door flew open. A gust of hot air shot out.
Josephine spun around and bounded toward it.
Sylvie dashed after her. “Stop!”
“Sorry, Sylvie. Sometimes we must make sacrifices to get what we want.” With that, Josephine leaped into the oven. The door slammed shut.
“What’s she doing?” cried Georgia.
Sylvie grabbed the handle and yanked it open, but it was too late. The casserole. Josephine. Gone.
“W-where’d she go?” asked Georgia.
“Paris,” said Sylvie, slumping to the floor.
“How do you travel there by oven?” Georgia peered inside, as if she were searching for a runway.
Agnes was actually Josephine Flammé. Now, thanks to Sylvie, the spells that had kept her classmates and mom safe were gone.
This wasn’t just about Sylvie’s dreams and future anymore.
It was bigger than all of that. Josephine Flammé was going to destroy her mom and the entire Golden Whisk competition.