Page 21 of Jingle Spells

The gardeners stared. The witches stared back. For a moment, nobody moved.

Then the older gardener reached for something in his pocket that definitely wasn’t pruning shears.

“Run?” suggested Scarlett.

“Run,” agreed Delilah.

As they sprinted back toward town, Delilah could have sworn she heard the topiary rabbits laughing.

They didn’t stop running until they reached Main Street, where Delilah finally slowed to catch her breath. “Well,” she managed between gasps, “that was . . .”

“Graceful?” offered Scarlett. “Elegant? A testament to the legendary poise of the Melrose women?”

“I was going to say ‘informative’ but sure, mock me if you like.”

“Del, you fell out of a bush.”

“It was a tactical surprise exit from concealment.”

“You landed on my chest, elbows first.”

“Tactical surprise ribcage.”

They walked the rest of the way to the Stargazer in companionable silence, though Delilah could practically hear her sister crafting the most embarrassing possible version of events to share with Nate later. At least the running had warmed them up. December in Oak Haven had always been cold, as if the weather itself was trying to justify all those cozy Christmas traditions Papa had loved so much.

Delilah pushed the thought away, trying to focus instead on their discoveries: the magical wards, the gardeners’ cryptic conversation, and the terrible rotating top hats.

“Oh ho ho, what have we here?” Scarlett muttered.

“What?” Del looked around, trying to figure out what Scarlett was—oh. A little electric car was parked in front of the hotel. “So? Whose car is that?”

Scarlett snorted. “Come on. Can’t you guess?”

They found Jasper in the lobby, attempting to check in while simultaneously babbling nonstop about the many intriguing architectural features of the building. Mama was on the far side of the reservation desk, enduring the newcomer’s enthusiasm with the kind of forced patience she usually reserved for drunk wedding guests.

“The neo-Gothic elements are fascinating . . .” He was clearly oblivious to Mama’s expression; her smile was becoming increasingly wooden. “Though the Victorian influences in the wooden detailing suggest⁠—”

“There’s gonna be a meeting!” Scarlett burst into the lobby and marched up to the desk. “Mama, we overheard some gardeners talking. We couldn’t get the details, but the magicians are gathering here tomorrow. The big ones, apparently. Or, big enough to merit sending landscapers out to make everything perfect.”

Delilah was right behind, nodding vigorously. “All those lies they’re telling? I don’t know why exactly, but they aren’t doing it by accident. There’s some sort of plan and⁠—”

“Girls! I’m so happy to see you!” Her mother’s relief at the interruption was palpable. “Perfect timing. Why don’t you show our enthusiastic new guest to his room while I check on . . . um . . . something in my office?”

“I, ah . . . well.” Jasper glanced at Delilah, then down at his shoes, then he adjusted his glasses, somehow making them more crooked than before. “That is, I was hoping to document the . . . that is . . . um. You have leaves in your hair,” he blurted suddenly.

Delilah’s hand flew to her head. Sure enough, evidence of their tactical surprise exit from the shrubbery remained. Perfect.

“Botanical research,” she said with all the dignity she could muster while picking bits of hedge out of her hair. “Very important witch business. Nothing you need to document.”

“Though if you’re interested in documentation,” Scarlett chimed in with her usual mischievous helpfulness, “I’m sure Del would be happy to show you around the hotel. The architecture is fascinating, especially in the evening. By candlelight. Just the two of you⁠—”

A little growl escaped from Delilah’s throat. “Don’t you have a boyfriend to torment?”

“Don’t you have a room to assign our historian friend here?”

Jasper looked between the sisters like he was watching a tennis match played with live grenades. “I don’t want to impose . . .”

“You’re not,” said Scarlett, just as Delilah said, “You are.”