Page 101 of Jingle Spells
The conversation circled uselessly, theories rising and falling like the level of liquid in their glasses. By the time Zahir arrived, lugging bags of groceries for the pub’s kitchen, they had exhausted both their ideas and most of their hope.
“Ladies!” Zahir called cheerfully as he bustled past their table. “You all look terrible. Day drinking on a Tuesday? Kelly Melrose would never approve.”
“Well, I’ll tell ya what, Z,” Scarlett said, slurring a bit. “I’d give anything to have my mother come storming into the pub to give us a dressing-down for getting drunk before dinner. Seriously, anything.”
“Did you get the . . .” Zahir made a vague gesture with his hand. “The thing?”
“The spell? Yes.” Delilah shrugged. “For all the good it does us.”
Zahir paused, setting down his bags. “No luck at the grove, I take it?”
“The wards are impenetrable,” Luna confirmed. “Even with my powers intact, I couldn’t make a dent.”
“Damn.” Zahir’s cheerful demeanor faltered. “I was really counting on you folks to save the day.”
“So were we,” Aphra said grimly.
Zahir disappeared into the kitchen, the sounds of unpacking and preparations drifting out to them. Soon, he emerged with a tray of food.
“On the house,” he announced, setting down plates piled with pub-food masterpieces. “Can’t save the world on an empty stomach.”
“Zahir, you angel.” Scarlett reached for a scotch egg. “How do you always know exactly what we need?”
“You’re a magic man, Zahir,” Jerusha agreed, digging into a plate of nachos with surprising gusto. “Pure magic.”
“I wish.” Zahir laughed. “If I had even a fraction of your powers, I’d have this place cleaned up and the prep work done in seconds. Alas, I’m just a simple chef trying to keep you witches fed and functioning. A magic man I am not.”
Not magic.
The words echoed in Delilah’s mind, triggering a memory. Another Zahir, semi-transparent, surrounded by cats.
“Holy shit.” She stood up so suddenly she nearly knocked over her glass.
“What?” Scarlett asked, alarmed. “What just happened?”
“Epsilon,” Delilah said, heart racing. “Eps. The clone in the attic.”
“The what now?” Luna looked confused.
“There is some magic left. Scarlett’s failed kitchen doppelgängers.”
Understanding dawned on Scarlett’s face. “You’re right, Del. They were literally made of magic. Too bad I got rid of them all.”
“But you didn’t, though. The, um, let’s see, the fifth one. Epsilon. He has been hiding in the attic.”
“What?! That little bastard!”
Zahir looked deeply concerned. “Hang on . . . Who?”
“I’m clearly missing something important here,” Luna said, looking between her sisters. “There’s a clone of Zahir in our attic?”
Scarlett nodded. “Zahir was working so hard, trying to run two kitchens at once, so I tried to conjure multiple Zahirs to help out.”
Luna gasped. “Oh my gods, Scar . . . That’s way too advanced. No offense but you aren’t experienced enough to do a spell like that.”
“Yeah, no shit. Wish you’d been here to tell me that at the time. It was a huge mess to mop up and apparently I didn’t even get it all.”
For the first time since leaving Jasper at the county clerk’s office, Delilah felt a flicker of genuine hope. She grabbed her sister excitedly. “What do you think, Luna? Would that give us enough power, do you think?”
