Page 32 of Jingle Spells

“Well, this has been nagging at me all day. The tour guides are all telling different stories, right? Contradicting each other . . . heck, contradicting themselves, even. Maybe it’s not about any one of their lies in particular. Maybe it’s about all of them, collectively. Flooding the air with so much nonsense that people lose track of the truth. I mean, you heard the people on the tour. Esmerelda kept contradicting herself and everybody just ate it up, like they couldn’t tell what the truth even was anymore. But . . . Oh, wait. No.”

“No? You lost me.”

“Well, I mean, why do that, though? What’s the point? Sorry, I thought I had something for a second there, but no. There’s no reason they’d do it.” Such a stupid thing to say, he thought. Christ, Jasper! Why can’t you just shut up? He wished, yet again, that he could pull his words out of the air and shove them back down his own throat.

But Delilah grabbed his arm in a burst of excitement. “That’s actually brilliant. Horrible, but brilliant.”

“Excuse me?”

“The forgetting spell. It’s just as you said—the forgetting spell is in the air! It works by overwhelming visitors’ brains with trivia. But what if you could overwhelm the spell instead? I mean, trivia is just another word for pointless little facts, right? What if you put out so many versions of ‘facts’—just flood the air with so much gibberish that the spell itself gets overwhelmed. It shorts out, almost.”

“Like a magical denial-of-service attack.”

Delilah frowned. “I have no idea what that is. But sure, if you say so? Last time they attacked us, the magicians tried to become experts at trivia, so the spell wouldn’t affect them. But this time, rather than beat the spell, maybe the game is to break the spell.”

“Just blow it up.”

She nodded. “Just blow it up. Do you think that would work?”

“Um, Delilah?” Jasper checked his watch. “I’ve known that witches exist for all of twenty-four hours. You tell me if it would work.”

They had drifted closer together as they talked, drawn in by the thrill of shared realizations. Jasper could see the individual lights reflected in Delilah’s eyes, like tiny sparkling stars caught in dark water.

I wonder what would happen if I kissed her right now?

But then from the next room came Esmerelda’s screeching voice: “And now, folks, who’s ready to hear the story of how the witches of Oak Haven’s wrote ‘Silent Night’?”

“Oh, for crying out loud . . .” As Delilah’s eyes narrowed, the stars all fled.

Ah well, Jasper thought. Wasn’t meant to be, I guess.

“It wasn’t witches, it was Franz Gruber,” he said wearily. “And it wasn’t in Oak Haven, it was in Oberndorf. But you knew that, Delilah.” He extended his elbow for her to take. “I don’t suppose you’d like to join me in correcting some historical inaccuracies?”

“Oh yes, let’s!” Her grin was positively wicked. “After all, what’s the point of being a witch if I can’t occasionally terrorize a tour guide?”

Behind them, the mechanical carolers launched into “The First Noel,” their painted faces beaming with artificial joy. For once, Jasper didn’t mind the excessive Christmas cheer. He and Delilah made their way back out to the tour bus, their heads bent together, co-conspirators in the best possible crime.

Chapter 11

In the Bleak Town Meeting

“Wait, Scarlett. Say that again. Louise suggested we do what?”

Delilah, Scarlett, and Nate were crossing the town green, headed toward what promised to be the most contentious town meeting since the Great Garden Gnome Uprising of 2005.

Scarlett rolled her eyes. “In order to get past the magician wards protecting the casino, Louise said we need to gather the midnight tears of sleeping children.”

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

“I wish.” Scarlett wrapped her arms around herself, either against the December chill or the memory of her visit to the lair of the time witch. “She said they had to be gathered with, and I quote, ‘a brush made from a mother’s grief.’ Whatever that means.”

“It means Louise has officially lost what remained of her mind,” Nate offered. “Okay, so what’s Plan B, ward-removal-wise?”

“I didn’t stick around for Plan B. Once she started talking about collecting children’s dreams in mason jars, I realized Louise wasn’t going to have any suggestions I wanted to hear.”

Delilah fought off the urge to say she’d told her so. “Well, at least you tried. Meanwhile, Jasper and I might have figured out what the magicians are actually⁠—”

“Ooh, speaking of your historian.” Scarlett’s grin was uncommonly wicked even for her. “Why isn’t he with us? I would’ve thought he’d want to document every second of an authentic New England witch meeting.”