Page 58 of Impractical Magic

“Violet, listen—”

“Whatever.” She stood up. “Happy Panda closes at midnight. I’m gonna go order while I still can.”

***

Scarlett sat alone outside the store, the smell of smoke in her hair, the sound of Violet’s anger in her ears, and the memory of Nate’s hands still warm on her skin. She looked over at the hardware store—everything was dark. If she was going to fix things with him, it would have to wait until tomorrow now.

But . . . do I even want to fix things? Maybe Nate being mad at me keeps everything simpler. After all, I should be focused on Oak Haven, not him. Plus, the more tangled up we get, the harder it will be to leave when all this is over.

Shouting and children’s laughter emerged from inside the store. Suddenly, a gaggle of Victorian ruffians made of paper and text came barreling outside and took off down the street. Priti was right behind them, shouting, “Hey! Hey, get back here, you little bastards!”

But, the paper-children had the energy of fiction, while Priti was an actual human who’d been on the clock for fifteen hours. She gave up the chase and ambled back to the bookstore, defeated. Seeing Scarlett waiting by the building, Priti shrugged. “The Artful Dodger and his pals got away from us.”

Ellen the EMS volunteer appeared in the doorway. “Those little shits took my wallet!”

“So . . .” Scarlett stood and joined them. “How’s it going in there?”

“We’re getting it done,” Priti said tiredly. “But we have to shut the magic down one shelf at a time, so it’s slow. Slower than a bunch of pickpockets, unfortunately.”

“Can I help?” Scarlett offered.

“Nah. Thanks, but we have a system. Hey, Ellen—hand me that thing, would you?”

Ellen returned to the store and reemerged with a thick leather-bound book, which she handed to Scarlett. “Ta da,” she said tiredly as she handed her the Myrmex Arcana.

“Ohh wonderful! This book is going to be so helpful. Thank you both so, so much!” Scarlett accepted the book eagerly and flicked through the pages. “Now we’ll have everything fixed in—oh.” She sighed. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

Priti frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, you know,” Scarlett said resignedly. “Nothing is ever easy.”

Chapter 22: Ain’t That a Kick in the Head

Scarlett headed back toward the inn, lugging the ancient magical text and about a hundred pounds of guilt and regret about a hundred different things.

Magic is in chaos because of me. The town’s iconic bookstore is a smoking ruin because of me. The EMS team is about to collapse from overwork because of me. Nate is mad because of me. It seems as though Violet might be upset because of me, too? Scarlett wasn’t sure whether to take the hit on that last one or not.

Passing Hexpresso Yourself, Scarlett was surprised to see the lights still on. On the chalkboard outside was the jaunty announcement: QUIZ NIGHT! SHOW OFF YOUR MAD TRIVIA SKILLZ! Despite the hour, the coffee shop was still busy—eight or so customers enjoying their cappuccinos and biscotti, electronica remixes of bossa nova classics on the stereo.

It’s so late, Scarlett mused. I hope they serve decaf . . .

And also, Does anyone truly enjoy biscotti?

She moved on, returning her thoughts to self-reproach, when something struck her as odd. She turned around and returned to the coffee shop window.

Top hats.

All the customers wore top hats—both the men and the women—and some also wore flowing black capes. A few patrons clustered around the counter, their top hats bobbing in animated conversation. Another patron sat at a table, surrounded by several onlookers, brandishing a deck of cards with practiced ease.

Hexpresso Yourself is a magician hangout . . . she realized. But how can Oak Haven have enough magicians to warrant a magician hangout? And they all love a quiz night? What the hell is going on?

She stared at the coffee shop for a long moment, debating whether or not to go in and investigate. But the exhausted side of Scarlett quickly won out over her curious side. I’ll leave those weirdos to their trivia night, she thought. The Myrmex Arcana is more important . . . for now, anyway.

***

Well past midnight, the lobby of the Stargazer Inn was a dim but inviting sanctuary, a fire still crackling in the old fireplace. Delilah sat hunched over the reception desk, the firelight accentuating the worry lines on her brow. A map of Oak Haven lay sprawled before her, dotted with notes in her neat hand, dutifully recording every reported magical incident in town. Beside her, Luna paced back and forth, deep in thought and humming a Gilbert and Sullivan tune.

As the door creaked open, a gust of chilly October air swirled into the room. Scarlett stepped inside and headed immediately for an overstuffed armchair by the hearth. She stretched her tired limbs and let the woodsmoke wash over her. The smell was more innocent, somehow, than the burning-book stench that was still in every pore.