Page 44 of Impractical Magic

“He’s kidding.” Scarlett forced a laugh. “Such a kidder, our Nate—I mentioned how he was a pain in the backside, right? Now, erm, would you mind lowering your sword so we can exit this bathtub?”

Scarlett and Nate freed themselves from the clutches of Mrs. Bert and headed downstairs, only to find the lobby in an absolute uproar. Guests swarmed Delilah at the reception desk—making demands, asking questions, everyone in total panic. It seemed that Bert wasn’t the only guest who’d gone missing.

“There you are!” Mama raced over to meet them at the bottom of the staircase. “What happened to you two?”

“Pro tip,” Scarlett replied. “Don’t use the walk-in. We ended up in the French Quarter.”

“Oh for crying out loud.” Mama sighed. “Well, I’ll add that to our list of problems.”

“What did we miss around here?”

“The doors . . .” Mama said despairingly.

“Really? Oh no. Nate, we missed the Doors.”

He winked. “I’ve always been more of a Stones guy.”

“Or the Who,” suggested Scarlett.

“The Who?” Nate tilted his head in confusion. “Weren’t they on second?”

“No, the Who was on first, What was on second, and I Don’t Know was on third.”

Mama sighed. “You two got into the champagne, didn’t you?”

Scarlett and Nate made eye contact and giggled.

“Pull it together, both of you. As you two have already discovered, a number of doors have turned into portals overnight. Currently, Luna is on the hunt for the guests who’ve accidentally stepped through a portal and gotten lost. She’s busy rescuing them; meanwhile, Delilah is managing their fretful companions. I need your help to prevent us from losing more guests.”

“Sure, maybe there’s a spell that could—”

“A spell?! Scarlett, we’ve got motorcycles turning into pigs and doors turning into portals. The last thing we need now is more magic. No, I have something far more traditional in mind. Nate, please fetch your toolbox and some fresh locks from down in the supply closet.”

“Of course, Mrs. Melrose,” Nate said.

“We’ve been over this. Call me Kelly.”

“We have been over it,” he allowed, “and I really can’t.”

***

Mama stalked along the second-floor corridor, and Scarlett and Nate had to jog to keep up.

“Mama, will you please slow down . . .”

They came to a halt in front of Room 205. She handed Scarlett the room key and gestured for her to open it. “Just peek. Don’t step inside or I’ll have to go looking for you.”

Scarlett shrugged and took the key. She opened Room 205 and leaned in, keeping her grip on the doorknob.

Instead of a quaint hotel room, she found herself gazing at Stonehenge.

A young woman cowered on the grass nearby, terrified and lost. She yelped when she saw Scarlett appear. “Who are you? Where am I? What’s going on?”

“You’re all right.” Scarlett reached out to take the woman’s hand and pull her back. “C’mon back—no sense hanging around out here.”

The young woman allowed Scarlett to lead her across the threshold. “Oh, thank you . . .” She looked equally relieved and shocked to find herself on the second floor of the inn. “I . . . but . . . where am I now? How did I get here? I don’t know what happened!”

Mama patted her on the arm. “I believe your companion is downstairs, quite upset. Go let him know you’re all right.” As the woman hurried down the hall, Mama called after her, “Help yourself to some champagne.”