Page 59 of Jingle Spells

The cabinet was empty.

Scarlett whirled around to meet her sister’s eyes. What the hell? they both mouthed. Delilah started to get up.

“For my next astounding feat—” Maximillian began, but he was interrupted by a sudden shift in the atmosphere, like pressure dropping before a storm. The candles fluttered, and the temperature seemed to plummet by several degrees. In a swirl of burgundy fabric, a woman appeared at the entrance to the hall. Her silver hair was twisted into an elegant knot, and her face held a kind of cold, terrifying beauty.

It was the magician from the casino, the one who had delivered the ultimatum.

Maximillian’s expression faltered. “Ah, madame! I wasn’t expecting⁠—”

“Your performance is over,” the woman said, her voice cutting through the suddenly silent room. With a casual gesture, she sent Maximillian flying off the stage.

“Ramona! What is the meaning of this?” Kelly stood, her voice steady despite the obvious threat. “You and your magician thugs not invited to our celebration.”

Delilah and Scarlett made eye contact again, this time each mouthing “Ramona?!” at the other.

Mama is on a first-name basis with a powerful magician? Apparently? Delilah was struggling to take this in. And here I thought the Mandy Patinkin thing was the weirdest connection Mama had.

Wonders really never did cease where Kelly Melrose was concerned.

“Your deadline has passed.” The burgundy woman, apparently Ramona, strode forward through the crowd and ascended the stage. “We magicians have come to claim what is rightfully ours.”

“And what would that be?” Kelly asked.

“Everything. Starting with the grove.”

Witches all over the banquet hall instinctively tried to summon their magic, gesturing wildly or muttering incantations under their breath. But of course, nothing happened. No magical shields formed, no counter-spells manifested. The realization spread through the room like a virus.

Then Delilah saw her mother, marching towards the stage to confront Ramona face-to-face. “Mama, don’t!” She leaped to her feet, Scarlett mirroring her action on the other side of the table.

But it was too late. Kelly had already ascended, standing toe-to-toe with the burgundy woman.

“Our answer is this: we will never give you the grove, because the grove is not ours to give away. It belongs to the land itself. It belongs to the Earth. It cannot be given, nor can it be taken. It cannot be owned at all.”

“How charming.” Ramona’s voice was practically drowning in condescension. “A witch who thinks she knows her history. But all you know are lies.” With a flick of her wrist, she sent Kelly stumbling backward toward the open cabinet.

“No!” Delilah shouted, finally reaching the stage, Scarlett right beside her. They lunged forward, trying to grab their mother, but an invisible force held them back.

“The time for negotiation has passed,” Ramona announced. “Now we take what we want.”

“Mama!” Scarlett cried.

Kelly’s eyes locked with her daughters. There was fear there, yes, but also something else: resolve, and beneath that, something that looked almost like a plan. “Get Luna,” she managed to say before the door slammed shut. “You three need each other.”

Ramona smiled, but it was a cold, satisfied smile that made Delilah’s blood run cold. “Let this be a lesson,” she announced to the horrified crowd. “Magic belongs to those strong enough to wield it.”

With a broad, arcing gesture, she enveloped herself and the cabinet in a massive burst of flame. When the smoke cleared, all that remained was a pile of ash and the echo of her laughter.

Chapter 17

Panic! At the Holiday Inn

Jasper Hopkins had been in strange situations before. One time he’d gotten locked in the county records room over a long weekend because none of his colleagues thought to check on him before locking up. He’d survived on vending machine protein bars and bathroom tap water, and he’d passed the time finishing the cataloging of the county’s property tax assessment records from the years 1873 to 1899. So really, who was the winner there?

But now Jasper found himself in a dim, quiet library after being shoved into what looked like a magician’s coffin. This was definitely new territory.

“Hello?” he called out, his voice echoing slightly in the empty room. “Mr. Magnificent? Is this . . . part of the act?”

The only sound was the distant revelry of the Saturnalia banquet filtering through the walls. Well, he thought, that’s a relief anyway. Wherever I am, I’m still at the inn. The notion of being somehow teleported far away from Delilah didn’t sit well at all.