Page 28 of Jingle Spells

Delilah groaned. “Why are you determined to turn a simple fact-finding mission into Ocean’s Eleven?”

“Because it’s awesome.”

“Danny Ocean never had to deal with anti-witch wards,” Jasper pointed out.

“See?” Delilah gestured triumphantly with her fork. “Even the historian thinks it’s a bad idea.”

“Actually, I think it’s fascinating. Historically speaking, magical barriers have always had unexpected vulnerabilities that just need to be exposed to enable—” He caught the threat in Delilah’s eyes. “Yes. Terrible idea. Very bad.”

Nearby, Maya Injabere was conducting a very serious conversation with one of the elves. “But who cares if the other elves don’t like your hat,” she said with that special degree of seriousness only six-year-olds can muster. “I think your hat is very pretty.”

Her mother hurried over. “Maya, honey, we talked about this. Let the elves do their jobs in peace.”

“But, Mama, he’s sad about his hat!”

Watching the mom shepherd the little girl back to the family table, Delilah felt that familiar ache. Papa would have helped the little girl start a support group for elves with self-esteem issues. Made them tiny motivational posters. Maybe an elf clinging to a tree branch with Hang in There! across the bottom in a cheerful font.

“So anyway,” her sister’s voice cut through the distracting thoughts. “I want to have a bit of sneak, see what I can learn from the proverbial horses’ mouths.”

“Or,” Delilah countered, “we could focus on something slightly less likely to get us all captured. Like, why they’re running these weird historical tours through town.”

“Ah yes, the tours!” Jasper said. “I also want to know about those tours. Why are they spreading misinformation?”

“Exactly!” Delilah tried to ignore how his entire face lit up when she agreed with him. He looked like a golden retriever discovering that tennis balls exist. “Why bother making things up? The real history is plenty dramatic without embellishment.”

“Unless . . .” Jasper’s eyes took on a sneaky little gleam. “Unless the point isn’t the content of the lies, but the act of lying itself.”

Both sisters stared at him.

“Think about it—what did that tour guide say yesterday? About how witches corrupted Christmas traditions? I went for a walk earlier, and⁠—”

Scarlett scoffed. “It’s barely 9 a.m. What do you mean, earlier? There is no such thing as earlier than nine.”

“There, I must disagree,” Jasper grinned. “In fact, there is an entire buffet of hours that are earlier than nine, and some of them are delightful for strolling in new places. My point is, while I was out, I heard another guide telling a completely different version of that story.”

“Different how?”

“According to that tour guide, the witches of Salem were actually secret Christians who helped spread holiday celebrations through New England.”

“That’s ridiculous. Everybody knows we were pagans until Papa—” Delilah stopped abruptly, the words catching in her throat. Great. Apparently she couldn’t even get through one conversation without stumbling over another Papa-shaped landmine.

Scarlett frowned, and she reached for her sister’s hand. “Hey, Del . . .”

But Delilah was already pushing back from the table. “You know what? Let’s go see for ourselves.”

“Del, it’s okay . . .”

“I’m fine.” She managed a smile that was only slightly wobbly. “What do you think, Jasper? Shall we go have a look?”

“Uh . . .” He glanced regretfully at his completely untouched plate of food. But then he looked at Delilah and his expression turned resolute. “Let’s do it. No time like the present, right?”

“Right.” Scarlett forced herself not to grin at them. “Okay, Mulder and Scully. I’m gonna visit Louise Demain. See if she has any ideas about those wards.”

“My gods, Scarlett, don’t drag Louise Demain into this.”

Jasper frowned. “Who’s Louise Demain?”

“Time witch,” Scarlett said with a twinkle in her eye. “Most powerful witch in Oak Haven, bar none.”