Page 109 of Jingle Spells

“Mama.” Delilah launched herself into another hug, burying her face against her mother’s shoulder like she hadn’t done since she was a child. Her voice came out muffled against Kelly’s coat. “Are you okay? What did they do to you? Where were you?”

Kelly’s arms came around her, strong and steady as always. “All excellent questions, darling. But perhaps better discussed somewhere warmer? And with a martini?”

“Two for me,” Belinda Chatterjee called out. “I need one for each hand.”

“Oak grove first,” Jerusha insisted, and her voice carried a heavy authority. “We need to complete the Saturnalia ritual and reclaim our magic. No cocktail is more important than that.”

Belinda harrumphed. “Says the woman who hasn’t been sitting in a void for—oh wait! How long have we been gone? I hope we didn’t miss the pageant?”

Scarlett went to Belinda and wrapped her in a warm hug. “We waited on the pageant. No pageant without you, Mrs. Chatterjee.”

“Ladies, let’s get back to town.” Kelly was suddenly all business, and she gathered her dignity around her like a warm winter coat. “It’s time to end Saturnalia properly.”

The grove seemed to know they were coming. As the witches of Oak Haven approached, the trees swayed despite the absence of wind, their bare branches reaching toward the star-strewn sky as if in welcome. The crystalline frost that had encased the trees since the beginning of Saturnalia glittered in the moonlight, like thousands of tiny diamonds waiting to be reclaimed.

Most importantly, the magicians’ wards were gone, vanished along with the casino and its operators. The witches moved freely up the hill, their breath visible in the cold air, their faces upturned toward the magic that awaited them.

Delilah walked between her sisters. For the first time in a very long while, she felt something like peace settling over her. They’d done it. They’d saved the town, rescued their mother, and sent the magicians packing. It was a victory by any measure.

So why did she still feel that hollow ache in her chest?

Because some victories come with sacrifices, a voice whispered in her mind. And yours was Jasper.

She pushed the thought away, focusing instead on the task.

The ritual to reclaim their magic mirrored the one that had begun Saturnalia. They encircled the largest oak, hands joined, words spoken in languages that predated Oak Haven itself. Kelly took her place at the head of the circle, her presence commanding attention without effort. “Sisters,” she addressed the assembled witches, “we gather to reclaim what is rightfully ours. To take back the power we willingly surrendered, now enhanced by its temporary separation from our mortal forms.”

The witches joined hands, forming a circle that pulsed with anticipation.

“As we come to the close of Saturnalia,” Kelly continued, “we honor what we have learned in our time without magic. Strength of community. Ingenuity born of necessity. Resilience that defines us, not as witches, but as women. Now, we reclaim what is ours.” Her voice grew stronger, filling the grove. “Not as a privilege, but as a responsibility. To protect our home. To preserve our history. To ensure our future.”

As Kelly began the incantation, the frost clinging to the trees began to shimmer more intensely, pulsing in time with her words. The other witches joined in, their voices weaving together. Soon, Delilah felt a familiar tingle of magic stirring within her, a warmth that started in her core and radiated outward.

The crystalline frost melted into streams of golden light, flowing from the trees. Delilah watched in awe as the magic returned to its rightful vessels, filling each witch with reinvigorated power. She felt her own magic flood back, a homecoming so profound it brought tears to her eyes.

As the last of the light dissolved into the circle, a collective sigh swept through the grove. They were whole again. They were witches once more.

Kelly lowered her arms, her smile warm with satisfaction. “Saturnalia is ended. Our magic returns, stronger for its rest.”

Cheers erupted from the assembled witches, hugs and laughter spreading through the group like wildfire. Families reunited, friends celebrated, and for a moment, all was right in Oak Haven.

Or, most of the women felt that way.

As the others began making their way back down the hill, toward homes and hearths and well-deserved holiday festivities, Delilah lingered. She found a quiet spot at the edge of the grove, perching on a fallen log that offered a view of the distant town. Oak Haven sparkled below, Christmas lights twinkling in the darkness. But as perfect as it all looked, there was something missing that she couldn’t deny.

Jasper.

With her magic finally restored, Delilah couldn’t help but think about how she might use it. After all, what’s the point of having magic at all, if you don’t use it to solve your problems? Why not just take this wand Mama hates so much and straighten it all out? Maybe she could create a remembering spell, to counter the forgetting. A spell to bring him to her side. A spell to bind him to Oak Haven forever.

Yeah, she thought. I could totally do that.

But she wouldn’t.

In her letter, Agnes Bartlett had written that magic wasn’t a dress pattern to be adjusted for better fit. Some things couldn’t—shouldn’t—be “fixed,” no matter how much you wanted to.

Jasper deserved a life unencumbered by the complications of loving a witch. A normal life, with a normal partner, in a normal town that didn’t disappear from his memory every time he went to work. She should let him go find that.

“You okay?” Scarlett’s voice came from behind her, unusually gentle.