Page 16 of No Charm Done

The carnival game operator, a skinny man with arms covered in tattoos, looked her up and down with obvious concern. “You all right there, miss? You look like you lost a fight with a bunch of Bolivians.”

“I need to win that rabbit.” Luna pointed to the enormous white stuffed animal hanging from the booth’s ceiling. It was the size of a dog and absurdly fluffy.

“That’s Buster,” the operator said. “Grand prize. You gotta whack thirty moles in sixty seconds to win him. And just between you and me, the timing’s a little . . .” He made a vague gesture. “Let’s just say Buster don’t find himself a new home very often.”

Luna handed over the ticket price. “I’ll take a shot.”

“Your funeral, lady. Timer starts . . . now!”

The first mole popped up, and Luna brought the foam mallet down with considerably more force than necessary. And then again, and again, and again. Luna was of course cheating, using magic to predict exactly where each mole would appear.

Whack! Whack! Whack!

“For crying out loud,” muttered the operator as Luna demolished mole after mole with machine-like precision. “Lady, you got some serious anger-management issues.”

Other fairgoers began to gather, drawn by the unusual sight of someone actually winning at a carnival game. Luna ignored them, focused entirely on her task. She had thirty moles to whack, and she was going to whack every last one.

When the timer hit zero, Luna had whacked forty-two moles. The operator stared at the score display as if personally insulted. “Well, I’ll be damned. Buster, you got yourself a new mama.”

He handed over the enormous rabbit. Buster was surprisingly soft, with floppy ears and a sweet embroidered face. Perfect for what she had to do.

“Thank you,” she said.

“No, thank you,” the operator replied, still looking dazed. “In twenty years of running this game, I ain’t never seen anything like that. You got some kind of superpower or something?”

Luna smiled. “Something.”

She made her way back to the Agriculture Building, the stuffed rabbit under her arm and her heart heavy with what she was about to sacrifice. It was a beautiful, powerful memory. And it would have to be enough.

Luna approached the refrigerated case with Buster clutched against her chest. The crowd had thinned out, and she was able to get close to the glass.

“Well, well,” came Myrna’s voice. “Look who’s back, and with such a lovely offering. Are you ready to make your sacrifice?”

Luna closed her eyes and pressed her hands against the rabbit’s soft fur. She let her mind drift back to that night last Christmas—the snow falling all around, the magic crackling in the air, when all three Melrose sisters had joined their powers. She remembered the feeling of absolute certainty that they could handle anything as long as they stuck together. The joy of working in perfect harmony with Delilah and Scarlett. The pride in her family’s heritage.

Slowly, deliberately, she began to pour that memory into Buster. She felt it leave her—not painfully, but with a deep sense of loss. The warmth of sisterly cooperation, the satisfaction of a job well done, the confidence that came from being part of something larger than herself. All of it went into Buster’s polyester body.

When she opened her eyes, the rabbit was different in her hands. Heavier somehow, though its physical weight hadn’t changed.

“Oh my.” Myrna’s voice was polite, but Luna could hear the disappointment underneath. “That’s . . . well, that’s a sweet little memory. Sisterly love and all that. But, bless your heart, I was hoping for something a bit more . . . substantial.”

“What do you mean?” Luna asked, though she had a sinking feeling she already knew.

“Well, dearie, I was thinking more along the lines of your last conversation with your dear departed father. Those are the memories that really shape a soul, you understand. This little sisterly bonding is nice and all, but . . .”

“I’m sorry, no.” Luna’s grip tightened on the rabbit. “This is all I can give.”

Butter Gonzo looked positively outraged. Butter Miss Piggy may even have gasped slightly.

“Oh, honey. There’s no way I can share that level of magic for such a minor sacrifice. It’s your father’s memory or nothing.”

Luna gritted her teeth so hard, she feared she’d chip a molar. “Well then, I’ll find some other way. In the words of your winter aspect? Fuck off.” She turned roughly away and headed for the exit.

After a beat, that syrupy voice returned to her head. “Now now, don’t stomp off all in a huff. I’m just a tiny bit disappointed is all. For such a big favor, I really was expecting something more precious. But if that’s truly the best you can manage . . .”

Luna stopped halfway to the exit but didn’t turn around. She could feel Myrna’s attention like a material weight on her shoulders. The pause stretched uncomfortably.

“Oh, I suppose even a small offering deserves some consideration.”