Page 106 of Jingle Spells

Snowball, Eps’s fluffy white cat with the mismatched eyes, was pawing at her ankle.

“She was forged from Eps, which means she’s made from magic too.”

“Aw, c’mon . . . you want me to use her for power?” Delilah said. “Poor Snowball!”

But if she didn’t try, all those unsuspecting visitors, innocent folks from Woonsocket or Nashua or Brookline, who’d all been drawn to that trendy witch casino they’d seen on TikTok . . . They’d all tumble about six hundred feet and splatter across a frozen New England ground.

Snowball gazed up at her, meowing impatiently. Delilah picked her up and tucked her inside her coat. “Is this gonna work?” she asked the cat. She just meowed again, which wasn’t helpful, so Del posed the same question to her far-more powerful sister.

“Damned if I know!” Luna’s voice was cracking from exertion. “But this casino has about ten seconds before it’s swallowed by the uh . . . by the big thing . . . you know. Anyway, chop chop.”

“Okay.” Delilah sighed heavily. She kissed the top of Snowball’s head and whispered, “Good kitty. You’re the best little gal ever.” Then she lifted her wand. She squeezed her eyes tight, envisioning herself standing in the Great Sandy Desert. She tried to remember the smell of the sand, and how the sun felt on her skin. And after several deep, cleansing breaths, Delilah stretched out her arm and . . .

She caught them all. Forty-seven people, each one grasped by an invisible power. It was like conducting the world’s strangest symphony. Every gesture of her wand controlled the descent of panicked humans who’d suddenly found themselves suspended in mid-air. With every life saved, the cat’s purr against her chest surged, acknowledging and even approving this wild, unorthodox wielding of forbidden magic.

“Holy shit,” Scarlett breathed, momentarily breaking her part of the incantation to watch her Grinchy sister saving Christmas tourists. “That’s some Big Mary-Poppins Energy right there.”

“Focus, ladies!” Jerusha’s orders sliced through the chaos. “The spell is destabilizing!”

They refocused, and the spell flowed from their lips with renewed urgency. As the casino dissolved like sugar in hot tea, a sound like the unholy offspring of a thunderclap and a vacuum cleaner echoed across the sky. After a final, thunderous surge of power, the structure vanished entirely, leaving behind nothing but shocked tourists and a handful of profoundly confused casino employees who happened to be outside. Luna collapsed from the effort, landing on the frozen ground like a marionette with cut strings. Epsilon had disappeared entirely, as had Snowball.

But the other cats had survived; they were curled up on the pavement, grooming one another as if not a single interesting thing had occurred in the past hundred years. Delilah smiled down at them. Don’t you worry, kitties, she thought, I’ll convince Mama to let us keep you around. Oak Haven could use a few cats . . . and Epsilon deserves a furry memorial.

“Holy mother of—” Scarlett stumbled backward, tripping over her own feet and landing hard on her butt. “Did we just . . . did that actually work?”

Delilah stared, her mind struggling to process what her eyes were seeing. Or rather, what they weren’t seeing. No tacky architecture. No rotating top hats. No magicians. “I think we did it,” she managed, the words feeling inadequate for the sheer magnitude of what just took place. “We just . . . fixed the skyline.”

Jerusha hobbled over to help Luna to her feet. “Breathe, child. The magic takes a heavy toll.”

Luna’s face was tuberculosis pale, her normally wild hair hanging limp with sweat. “That was . . . intense,” she wheezed. “Like trying to fit the entire Pacific Ocean through a drinking straw.”

Meanwhile, rescued tourists and stray employees milled about, their expressions ranging from stunned disbelief to outright panic. One woman in a sparkly “WITCH PLEASE” T-shirt kept taking photos of the sky, as if her phone would reveal something her eyes couldn’t see.

“Um, guys?” Scarlett gestured toward the increasingly agitated crowd. “What do we do with . . . them?”

Aphra stepped forward, her expression resolute. “I’ll handle it. I spent the last week pretending to be a ‘genuine witch tour guide,’ so I can certainly manage these folks.” She straightened her shoulders and strode toward the confused group. “Ladies and gentlemen!” she called out, summoning the same theatrical presence she’d used during her Enchanted Yarn Experience. “On behalf of Oak Haven, I want to thank you for participating in our annual Holiday Illusion Spectacular!”

The tourists blinked at her in confusion.

“What you just experienced was a masterful example of mass hypnosis and state-of-the-art holographic projection,” Aphra continued smoothly. “We hope you enjoyed this unique entertainment experience! Click like and subscribe for more.”

“That’s only for videos,” Delilah called out. “Not real life.”

“But I don’t understand,” a man in a plaid jacket protested. “I was up fifty bucks at blackjack!”

“All part of our famous immersive simulation,” Aphra assured him. “Now I suggest you let me lead you back to your cars. It’s Christmas Eve, after all. Surely you have families to visit.” Amazingly, the crowd began to follow her, their confusion giving way to a sort of bemused acceptance. One woman was already telling her companion, “I told you those slot machines couldn’t possibly be real. They were paying out way too much!”

“Aphra is a goddamn genius,” Scarlett whispered. “Think they’ll actually believe that whole ‘Holiday Illusion’ garbage?”

“They believed a casino materialized in the woods overnight,” Delilah pointed out. “Safe bet they’ll believe anything at this point.”

The witches stood in stunned silence for a long moment, staring at an empty space where, seconds before, a garish monument to the great humbug had dominated the landscape. The afterimage was still burned into Delilah’s retinas, like a ghost hovering in the cold night.

“Did we just kill a bunch of gamblers?” Scarlett asked suddenly, that thought clearly just occurring to her. “Like, the tourists and stuff?”

“The Mojave isn’t exactly the surface of the sun,” Luna replied, still sounding winded. “They’re probably just improperly dressed and super confused.”

“So what’s next?” Delilah asked. “We need to get to the oak grove, right? Finish Saturnalia and get our powers?”