Page 99 of Jingle Spells
Delilah collapsed into her embrace, letting Luna hold her up as her own strength failed. “I got the spell,” she managed between sobs. “But he’s gone, Luna. When he looked at me, there was nothing in his eyes at all.”
“I’m so sorry, Del . . .” Luna stroked her hair, a gesture so reminiscent of their mother that it only made Delilah cry harder. “It’s not fair. None of this is fair.”
Delilah took a few deep breaths and wiped her face with her sleeve. “Okay . . . okay, sorry. Pulling it together, I promise . . . How did you find me, anyway?”
“Locator spell. Scarlett realized that you’d left in Jasper’s car and that you’d need help getting back to town. Some of the witches are waiting for us just outside the grove. I’m going to try to bust up those magician wards. I hate to rush you, but we probably should get going.”
Delilah nodded, drawing another deep breath to steady herself. “Let’s roll. Believe me, I want this to work more than anyone.”
“Hey . . .” Luna wrapped her big sister in one more hug. “I truly am sorry everything turned out like this. I know you fell hard for that bookmark with legs.”
“Oh my gods . . . You’ve been home for about ten seconds and you’re already spending too much time with Scarlett.”
Luna opened another portal back to Oak Haven. Before stepping through, Delilah glanced back toward the county clerk’s office, barely visible in the distance.
“Goodbye, Jasper . . .” She turned away, following her sister into the shimmering light.
Chapter 28
Do You Wanna Build a Clone Man?
The witches gathered just beyond the perimeter of the grove in a fretful clump. Above and beyond towered the massive oaks, with their gnarled roots and whispering leaves. For centuries, the grove had been the wellspring of the witches’ power. The beating heart of their town. Now, it was as unreachable as the moon.
The magicians had encircled the area with an intricate web of formidable wards, far surpassing those that safeguarded their bustling casino. These wards created an impenetrable barrier, preventing anyone (witch or otherwise) from stepping foot into the sacred grove without the magicians’ say-so. The witches could sense the wards from a hundred yards away: an unnatural, imposing blockade that made their skin itch and their stomachs go sour. There was nothing they could do except linger at the bottom of the hill, staring helplessly up at their stolen birthright.
When Delilah stepped out of Luna’s portal, she couldn’t help but notice how pathetic the witches looked. Quite the sorry little battalion, armed with nothing but hope and, thanks to her sacrifice, an ancient parchment.
Delilah said a silent prayer that the key to their victory lay in Agnes’s old spell. It has to, she thought. It has to be worth it.
“You got it,” Scarlett said eagerly when Delilah approached with the parchment in hand. “The portal spell.”
“The very same,” Delilah confirmed. “Although, what language this is, I have no clue. Hopefully it contains an incantation for moving entire structures across vast distances.”
Jerusha peered at the text, her wrinkled face scrunching in concentration. “I can read it, clear as day. The incantation is complex but not impossible.”
“Only one problem.” Aphra expressed what they all knew but didn’t want to say. “We’ve got no magic to power it.”
The ritual to end Saturnalia was as important as the one that began it. Without proper closure, the witches’ powers remained locked in the oak grove’s crystalline trees. Inaccessible and dormant.
“I ought to be able to fix that,” Luna said. “I’ll break through.”
Delilah and Scarlett gazed at their baby sister with a bubbly mixture of pride and doubt. Luna was powerful, sure . . . but would it be enough?
“First off, let’s try something straightforward.” Luna rolled up her sleeves. “The wind-bending technique I learned in Mongolia.”
She positioned herself at the edge of the wards, her arms moving in fluid, circular motions. The winter air responded, swirling around her in a miniature cyclone that grew more and more intense, with leaves and small branches caught in its vortex. With a powerful thrust, Luna directed the whirlwind against the invisible barrier. The air crashed against the wards like water against stone: impressive to witness, but ineffective. The barrier didn’t even ripple.
“Okay, Plan B,” Luna muttered, shaking out her hands. “Let’s try the Warlpiri method.”
This time, Luna crouched low to the ground, pressing her palms against the frozen earth. Delilah recognized the Australian telekinesis Luna had been so excited about during their travels. A tremor ran through the ground, small at first, then building in intensity until small rocks and clumps of earth began to rise, hovering a few inches above the ground.
With a grunt of effort, Luna sent the debris hurling toward the barrier. Each stone and clod hit the invisible wall with a dull thud before falling harmlessly to the ground.
“Well, shit.” She brushed the dirt from her hands. “Let’s try something a bit more . . . creative.”
Over the next hour, Luna worked her way through a National Geographic–level compilation of obscure spells. If David Attenborough had ever done a BBC series on magic, it would have looked roughly like this. She tried the shapeshifting techniques of the Greek Proteans, transforming herself into mist to slip through the barrier. She attempted the death-defying illusions she’d learned from trickster spirits in Haiti. She tried a technique from the mountains of Armenia that involved aggressive throat singing.
Nothing worked. The wards would not be smashed, or tricked, or sung into submission.
