Page 75 of Impractical Magic

In the dining room, the witches were drinking pinot noir and trying to figure out what to do next.

Aphra couldn’t stop apologizing for the failure of her cages. “I really thought I had things under control . . . I’m so sorry I’ve let everybody down.”

“Babe . . .” Dayo sat beside her wife, a supportive arm over her shoulder. “Nobody could have done better.”

“Absolutely,” consoled council member Jerusha.

“You’re goddamn right!” Belinda declared. She got up and brought the wine over to refill Aphra’s glass. “This isn’t your fault, sweetheart.”

Mama clinked her wineglass with a fork. “Ladies. Dwelling on what went wrong gets us nowhere. What is our next move?”

Seated beside her, Luna flipped open the Myrmex Arcana. “I did read about a parasitic wasp from Macquarie Island, near Tasmania? It lays eggs inside the thoraxes of other magical insects. Maybe that’s something? Introduce wasps?”

“One question,” said Polly. “What happens after the wasps have run out of dragonflies to kill?”

Candace nodded fretfully. “Will they come for my ladybugs next?”

“I hear you,” Luna admitted. “I’m not sure about that. Of course, if we clean out the grove, we should get magic back so—”

The witches reacted with alarm. “Should!” exclaimed Jerusha. “Kelly, what does your girl mean, should? I thought everything will be normal once we clear out the flies!”

“Unbunch yourself, Jerusha,” Mama said. “Luna is merely acknowledging that life is uncertain. Still . . .” Here she turned to address her daughter. “I do think the ladies have a valid concern. Introducing a new potential pest to address a current one doesn’t seem especially wise.”

“Luna, you’re our historian here,” Belinda said. “What about the old days? You said these flies originated in Ancient Egypt, right? How did they fix the plagues back then?”

“Um . . .” Luna grimaced. “How did they end the plagues . . . in the story of Exodus?”

Candace laughed. “I don’t suppose you have any Chosen People you could set free, do you, Belinda?”

Mama lifted an eyebrow. “Belinda’s gnomes already left,” she said slyly. “So that won’t help.”

“Well, I was just asking!” Belinda huffed.

Into this bickering marched Scarlett and Delilah. Scarlett triumphantly placed Max’s cage of flies on the table.

“Oh my goodness,” cried Jerusha. “Just look at them!”

Aphra gazed at her friends. “What’ve you got here, gals?”

“These were in Maximillian’s room,” Delilah said.

Scarlett nodded. “He’s the source of our problem. I’d suspected before, but now we have evidence.”

Mama stood and approached the cage, pulling her readers up to her eyes to study the tiny beasts. “Luna, these creatures had to be conjured, am I understanding correctly? He couldn’t have bought these in a joke shop, in other words.”

“Yes, that’s right. They haven’t existed for thousands of years.”

“Someone created them.” Mama straightened up, gazing at each of the witches in turn. “How did he manage it?”

“He had a little helper,” Delilah announced. “I’m sorry, Polly.”

Polly looked appalled. “What are you suggesting?! I certainly didn’t assist that muppet. You can’t mean me.”

“No,” Scarlett said sadly. “I’m afraid we don’t mean you.”

A silence fell over the dining room.

“Oh dear,” Belinda said. “Oh, that poor child, what was she thinking?”