Page 26 of Impractical Magic

“Sure,” Scarlett said. “They’d been poisoned.”

“Right, well. Look at this.” From her bag, Delilah removed a handful of oak tree leaves. They were firm, with a bright green color—darker on the top, lighter on the underside—with just a hint of autumn yellow tickling the edges. No discoloration or markings or bug bites. They were perfect.

Scarlett stared at the leaves for a moment. “The trees aren’t sick.”

“They don’t appear to be.”

“Then how do we explain the squirrels, Delilah? Or the potholes, or the failing spells. If we’re not dealing with sick oak trees, then . . . what is it?”

“I don’t know. But my first thought is: maybe something is indeed wrong with the trees, just not visibly. We’re going back to the grove tonight. Luna’s going to have a chat with them and see what they say.”

“Excuse me,” Scarlett said. “I’m sorry, what? Quick clarification. By them, you mean, Luna’s going to chat with . . .”

“The oaks.”

“The oaks. Right. My baby sister talks to trees. That’s a completely ordinary thing for you to say.”

“Apparently she studied with a coven in . . . oh nuts, where was it?” Delilah took a step toward her baby sister. “Luna,” she said in a stage whisper, “where did you learn the tree-talking thing?”

“Bo-Kaap, in Cape Town,” she said, never turning her eyes away from the stage. “They have baobab trees that are thousands of years old, and there’s a spell where you can communicate with them. Now, will you shut up? Maximillian is about to do something interesting.”

Scarlett nudged Delilah. “So she just talks to trees now.”

“She’s been busy. Traveling all over, learning all sorts of arcane magic.”

“Oh my God . . .” Scarlett considered this. “Is Luna the most powerful of us now?”

“It’s worse than that,” Delilah said. “Mama says that Luna is the most powerful of anyone.”

Luna turned to her sisters, her face flushed with joy. “He made a rabbit appear in his hat,” she exclaimed. “A rabbit, Scarlett!”

“In his hat, Luna. I saw. Well done, Maximillian: you’ve mastered a feat achieved by any eighth-grade nerd with a top hat.”

Delilah snickered. “Yeah, and she’s supposedly the most powerful witch in the family—how about that.”

Luna’s eyes flashed. She stalked over to her sisters and said, “Now you listen to me. I have been all over the world, and I’ve seen all types of magic. Stage magicians are not entirely fake. When I was in Japan, I saw this young man do a trick with a plastic alligator and a cell phone, and I still have no idea how he did it without using genuine powers. Magicians are our cousins, and they deserve our respect.” Luna turned her back and returned her full attention to the show.

Delilah rolled her eyes. “Well, she sure told us, huh.” She impatiently checked her watch. “Is this thing done yet? We need to get home. Psst, hey, Luna. How much longer?”

Luna waved them off without turning around. “Go without me.”

With a shrug, Delilah turned to Scarlett. “Let’s go. There’s something I want to show you.”

***

“Look at it,” Delilah said, disgusted. “Can you believe that?!”

They were standing at the corner of Main and West streets, and Delilah was pointing to the crosswalk ahead of them.

Unlike the parallel stripes seen in cities everywhere, Oak Haven crosswalks featured elaborate patterns of repeating circles, and within each circle was a complex maze.

At first glance, one might assume the intricate design was just one of those small-town quirks—like the “Garden of One Thousand Buddhas” in Arlee, Montana, or how Collinsville, Illinois, is home to the world’s largest ketchup bottle. But Oak Haven’s crosswalks are one piece of a massive, town-wide mosaic of enchanted sigils, elaborate carvings that generate a protective quilt of forgetfulness, keeping Oak Haven safe from the scrutiny of the outside world.

But this crosswalk had gouges all over it, like someone went at the designs with a sledgehammer.

“What the hell . . .” marveled Scarlett. “What happened to the sigils?”

“Excellent question. We’re seeing this all over town.”