Page 104 of Impractical Magic

As the days passed, ever-smaller contingents of witches returned to continue the search. One by one, they began to accept that Scarlett had given her life to save their own.

Perhaps we should erect another statue, the witches whispered to one another. A beautiful stone Scarlett in the center of town, right beside her ancestor, Goodwife Melrose.

Kelly Melrose would glare at the women with homicide in her eyes. “My daughter does not require a statue,” she’d say. “My daughter will return.” And the witches would go quiet.

***

Periodically, Zahir brought food to the grove for his old friend. He’d sit beside Nate, attempting to engage in friendly conversation. Zahir would ask if Nate cared to know the latest news from town, or if he wanted to hear about a particularly zany guest who’d visited the inn, or if he was even slightly curious about what was happening at Williams Hardware in his absence.

And Nate said, “Not really. Thanks anyway.”

As the sun dipped below the horizon, Zahir always attempted to persuade Nate to join him in Oak Haven for a beer. But Nate remained.

***

Down in Oak Haven, the restoration of magic breathed new life into the town. The glittering colors were back, the scents of pumpkin and woodsmoke were all around, and the streets were adorned with gourds as far as the eye could see. Even the miscreant squirrels with magnificent tails had returned, many sporting jaunty new berets. The Road Work Spell Committee worked diligently to mend the damaged sigils, and their magic permeated the air.

Meanwhile, Spellbound Books stood fully restored. Polly sat in the front window every Wednesday, reading stories to groups of enraptured children. She’d conjure parades of ducks to march around the store, eliciting squeals of delight.

***

As the last autumn leaves clung to the trees, two magicians—one male, one female—sat together in the front window of Hexpresso Yourself. The coffee shop had become the magicians’ refuge and makeshift headquarters, where they gathered to study trivia, drink cappuccinos, and (these days) feel very sorry for themselves. Most didn’t even have the heart for trivia practice anymore—not since their leader, Maximillian, had disappeared without a trace. They were feeling lost, bitter, and uncertain of their futures. Not an ideal state of mind for memorizing Elton John lyrics.

“We should kill that fucking bird.” The male magician’s eyes narrowed in frustration. “It’s stupid to just keep it hanging around. I’m so sick of listening to it chirping day and night.”

His partner shook her head. “Bosses said not to hurt it. They want to run tests, figure out how it works. Maybe we can learn that spell, too.”

“Sure, but it’s evidence. Keeping it around just proves that we interfered.” He took an angry swig of his coffee. “You just know those witches will be here any minute to kick us all out of town. And if they find out we’ve been keeping that thing—”

“They won’t,” the lady magician assured him.

“We should get the hell out of here while we can. To tell you the truth, I don’t see why we haven’t all cleared out already.”

She tilted her head sympathetically. “I know, it’s been rough. But the bosses say stay put. The bosses say they’re working on a plan B, and we should sit tight and await further instructions.”

“The bosses say, the bosses say . . .” he muttered. “Who cares what the bosses say.”

“Uhh, I’d rather not piss them off. Know what I mean?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know. It’s just . . . The whole situation makes me so mad. Ugh, those goddamned witches.”

“You can say that again,” she agreed.

“No, you don’t understand.” He pointed out the window. “Out there. Goddamned witches, right goddamn now.”

A phalanx of witches, led by the determined Priti Chatterjee and her EMS team, were marching down the street toward the coffee shop. Panic erupted among the magicians inside, their eyes wide with fear as they frantically gathered their belongings and fled, desperate to escape before being caught by the powerful coven. The sound of clattering objects and fleeing feet echoed through the shop as they hastily retreated.

The lady magician snatched up her top hat and dashed to a low cupboard in the back of the shop. That cupboard contained a very precious item, which she alone had been entrusted to protect at all costs. She grabbed the item, bundled it with her cape and a few essentials, and sprinted out the back door.

“Wait for me!” her companion shouted after her, but there would be no waiting today, not for him or anyone. She had a solemn responsibility to escape with the evidence, no matter what.

The magician’s heart pounded as she sprinted down the cobblestone streets, the sound of witches’ cackles echoing behind her. She followed the winding road that led out of town, her breath coming in ragged gasps. When she reached the covered bridge, she felt a glimmer of hope—but halfway across, three more witches materialized at the far side, blocking her escape. The magician skidded to a stop, knowing she was trapped. Desperate to hide the evidence, she tossed her bundle into the river.

The witches closed in, surrounding her.

“I’ll never talk,” the magician spat out. “You can torture me all you want. But I’ll never comply.”

Priti laughed, her eyes glinting with amusement. “My goodness, you magicians are intense! Nobody’s torturing anybody! We’re going to toss each of you in a portal to a different location. By the time you all figure out how to get home, you’ll have forgotten about Oak Haven completely. That’s all. We don’t want to hurt you; we just want you all gone.”