Page 14 of Jingle Spells

“Ah ha, well,” Scarlett sighed. “This is where things get tricky. It is not in Oak Haven, strictly speaking. It’s a few yards beyond our perimeter.”

“So . . . it’s not influenced by our magic.”

“Exactly. I think we can officially abandon the idea that magicians aren’t every bit as powerful as we are. Or, you know . . .” Scarlett gestured helplessly up at the glittering tower. “More.”

Delilah felt a hot flush of shame. While she’d been off collecting passport stamps and exotic magic tricks, this . . . this thing had sprouted up like some kind of corporate kaiju, threatening to swallow everything her ancestors had built. She’d been swanning around the world with Luna when she should have been here, protecting her home.

But what could anyone have done against something like this? The witches of Oak Haven were capable, yes, but their magic was intimate, personal—enchanted snowmen and floating ornaments, protection spells woven into stone walls. This hotel seemed to present a different kind of power entirely. The kind that came with lawyers and permits and environmental impact studies. The kind of power that could crush a small town.

Delilah stared up at the casino. The building’s endless rows of windows stared down at her with the impassive menace of a thousand eyes.

“There are who knows how many guests up there, in those rooms, gazing at us. At Oak Haven. They are looking at us from up high and just beyond our range—a vantage point that is not influenced by the forgetting spell.”

“Del, you know how I was complaining before, about the locator spell that doesn’t consider altitude? Well. Here we are, altitude fucks us yet again. But that’s not even the worst bit.”

“That’s pretty bad! Our anonymity is completely blown. People must be looking out the windows: ‘Oh, look, Tyler! What an adorable little town. Won’t our followers just eat that up?’ ‘You’re so right, Chloe! Think of the content we could generate.’ How long do you reckon before we end up a trending topic? Those magicians are trying to wipe us out, Scar, pure and simple. Last year they infiltrated the town to get us from the inside out. This time, it’s a full-frontal assault from the outside in. They’re trying to⁠—”

“Okay, you’re ranting, sis. I agree with everything you’re saying. But I’m telling you: it’s not the worst bit.”

“Well, what is?”

“Let’s go into town, because I think you need to see for yourself. But I have to tell you, I just . . . I don’t know . . .” Scarlett’s voice trailed off and, for the first time, Delilah could see the worry in her sister’s eyes. “I can’t figure how we’re going to fix this one.”

Delilah grabbed her sister by both shoulders. “They won’t beat us. This is our town, built by our mothers and fathers, and their mothers and fathers, and their mothers and fathers before them, going back hundreds of years. In Oak Haven, magicians do not win. Got it?”

Scarlett impulsively threw her arms around her sister and squeezed her tight. “I’m so glad you’re home, Del.”

“Okay, okay, cut it out. Come on.” Delilah pulled back, wrapping one arm around her sister’s. “Let’s go fuck their shit up.” But first she paused, put one hand to her forehead for a moment, then snapped her fingers. Suddenly the headbanging snowmen were belting out “Back in Black.” The sisters marched toward town like twin storms while AC/DC’s thunder rolled down the perfect New England street.

Chapter 6

Last Christmas (I Gave You Amnesia)

Jasper stared into his coffee mug, hoping it might contain a few answers along with the rum.

No such luck.

“Six times,” he said slowly. “You’re certain? I’ve been here six times?”

“No, we’ve met you six times. Who knows how many other times you’ve driven through town. But yeah,” said Nine, “we’re certain. As certain as we are that you’ll forget this conversation, same as all the others.”

“If it helps,” Ten offered, “you do mix it up a bit each time we see you. First time you visited, you got so angry about Oak Haven being off the map that you threatened to call the U.S. Department of Defense to report a glitch in the Global Positioning System.”

“The time after that, you were hopping mad at the National Registry of Historic Places,” added Eleven.

“You do have a tendency to get worked up, Mr. Hopkins,” Twelve said. “That’s why we started adding rum to your coffee.”

“But hang on . . .” Jasper’s mind was spinning from all the questions he wanted to ask. “When exactly does this forgetting happen? The second I leave town?”

“Like stepping from light into shadow,” Ten confirmed. “When you cross that town line, Oak Haven becomes nothing but a weird feeling you can’t quite place. Like déjà vu, but backwards.”

“Sure, the French call it jamais vu. The feeling that something familiar should be recognized but isn’t.”

“Look at the brain on this kid!” Twelve clapped his hands.

“Is it all at once? Or gradual?” Jasper pressed. “And is it complete? Do I forget everything?”

Nine stroked his beard thoughtfully. “Not everyone forgets the same way. Sometimes visitors retain tiny fragments: a smell, a tune they can’t place. Nothing useful, mind you. Likely that’s why we get the occasional repeat visitor such as yourself. Curious souls who keep wandering back, who can’t quite shake us.”