Page 34 of No Charm Done

Luna and Elias watched in growing horror as Vex disappeared into the crowd, still babbling into his little device.

“Um,” she said after a long pause. “Did we just make a horrible mistake?”

“Applesauce! He’s a rube. What was that he said? He’s zooming? And what does uber even mean, is that German? He’s clearly just a maniac.”

“To be fair, the words Uber and Zoom do have meanings in 2026.”

“In that case, you’re all maniacs.” He waved the problem away. “Listen, I know a chump when I see one, and that kid? Was a chump. A regular four-flusher.”

Luna burst out laughing. “A what?!”

“A four-flusher. A bluffer, a fake. It’s a poker term.”

“Ahhh, okay. I was afraid it was a toilet reference. You’re probably right. And it’s not as if he could actually do anything with that idea. Magic isn’t something you can package up for takeout.”

He nodded. “Believe me, if magic could be sold, I’d have sold it by now.”

They sat in silence, watching a family of tourists pose for photographs next to a sign that read “WELCOME TO WITCHTOWN!”

He frowned. “Is this what witchcraft has become in the twenty-first century? Just a gaudy, commercial pile of balderdash? It is . . . unpleasant.”

“No, no, no. This pile of balderdash is what you magicians tried to turn witches into. Tried and failed, I might add. We defeated you guys and put an end to this whole tourist trap catastrophe. Or, rather, we will defeat you, about a week ago. I mean . . . a week from now? We will have defeated you, a week from now? Time-travel grammar gives me a headache. Point is, this will all be cleaned up soon. You magicians will have lost again, as you always do.”

Elias glared at her, gritting his teeth. Smug was not a good color on this young woman, adorable as she was otherwise. “So are you going to get me home to ’26 or what? Because my partner Vivi is waiting for me there. We had about a half-dozen grifts running at a half-dozen clip joints and I’d like to get back to them if you don’t mind. And honestly, if I never see another witch in my life, it’ll be too soon.”

“I’m eager to be rid of you, trust me. Let’s go see Louise Demain. She’s our local time witch. She’ll know what to do.”

“She can fix this whole time-travel situation? Get each of us back to where we belong?”

“As long as we can talk her into it.”

“Just leave it to me, kid.”

She stood, and gestured that Elias should, too. “C’mon, Gatsby, let’s . . . um, 23 skidoo or whatever it is you people say.”

As they walked along, Elias couldn’t stop himself muttering about all the odd things Vex had said. “And what did he mean, apps? Subscription apps? Was he talking about food? Because, not for nothing? I ran a subscription restaurant game back in ’22. Capone and the boys did not appreciate the extra fees.”

A small shop sat tucked between a store selling “Authentic Witch Crystals” and another advertising “Séances While U Wait.” A towering grandfather clock stood sentinel beside the door, its intricate gears and pendulums gleaming despite the gray December weather. The weathered sign above the entrance read “TOUT LE TEMPS” in letters that shifted and squirmed whenever they weren’t looking directly at them. Below that, smaller text proclaimed: “TIMEPIECES REPAIRED—TEMPORAL CONSULTATIONS BY APPOINTMENT ONLY.”

“Louise can see the past, future, and present all at the same time,” Luna whispered as they approached. “I bet she already knows we’re⁠—”

The heavy wooden door swung open and Louise stood in the doorway. Her stare, cold as the space between stars, fixed on the arrivals like teacher gazing at two students who’d just set the chemistry lab on fire.

“Hello, morons.”

Chapter 11

Tea and Sympathy (Hold the Sympathy)

The tea smelled like something reptilian had died in it.

Luna stared into the delicate china cup, watching steam rise from liquid the color of angry bilge water. The smell was so aggressively awful that her eyes watered. But Luna also understood that this was absolutely typical of Louise’s “hospitality.” Welcome to my shop, the tea seemed to say. Now suffer.

Seated beside her, Elias held his own cup like he’d been handed a live grenade. His gaze darted from the tea to Luna and back, his arched eyebrows clearly saying: No way in hell I’m drinking this swill.

Luna returned a death glare that she hoped would clearly convey her response: You will drink whatever the time witch gives you and you will smile while doing it.

Louise hadn’t been surprised to see them at her doorstep, but she’d certainly been outraged. The question was: why? Luna knew, because she’d already lived through it, that the entire situation with the Oak Haven as Christmas Tourist Trap would be resolved before the year was out. So that couldn’t be what was troubling Louise. It had to be something worse. Far, far worse. And yet Luna was almost relieved. Far better to focus on Louise’s mysterious rage than to think about that kiss back in New York. The kiss that had made her forget her own name for a few seconds. That kiss that she absolutely, positively was not going to think about right now, especially not while sitting three feet away from the man who’d⁠—