9. Right This Very Minute
Right This Very Minute
It was the final morning of magic in Oak Haven. Delilah sat at breakfast with her sister and gazed around with thinly disguised annoyance.
A key selling point of the Stargazer Inn experience was the hotel’s enchanted dining room.
It could be transformed into any sort of venue imaginable, from a twelfth-century banquet hall to a space-station cafeteria and anything in between.
Today, the dining room looked like something out of one of Papa’s beloved Christmas movies: all twinkling lights and “snow” that sparkled as it fell from the enchanted ceiling but conveniently disappeared before ruining anyone’s breakfast. Tiny elves in pointed hats, looking like escapees from a Rankin & Bass TV special, skated between tables delivering coffee and syrup.
It was a sight that would have made Edward Melrose beam with delight but was currently giving his eldest daughter a tension headache.
Delilah had talked Mama out of her Infinite Diyas project, but even she couldn’t stop the Christmas.
At the Stargazer, a number of rooms were currently occupied by the Injabere family.
They were visiting for a holiday reunion with Daniel and Linda Injabere, a pair of Oak Haven’s most recent arrivals.
The extended Injabere family had claimed most of the tables by the window.
Little Maya Injabere raced around the room, determined to catch an elf.
The elderly matriarch, Ruth, held court at the center table.
Delilah couldn’t stop looking at the old woman, though she knew it was impolite.
But Ruth Injabere was gazing at her great-grandchildren with the kind of joy that Delilah could feel all the way down to her toes.
It was the same look Papa used to get, watching his girls discover some new Christmas wonder he’d arranged.
Stop that , Delilah told herself firmly. No Papa thoughts before coffee .
“Del?” Scarlett’s voice pulled her back to their corner table. “Are you even listening to me?”
“Sorry, what were you saying about your completely insane plan to get us all killed?”
“It’s not insane. Look, yesterday we learned there’s going to be some big meeting of magician leadership at the casino. This could be our chance to?—”
“To get captured? End up in some magician equivalent of Guantanamo?” Delilah watched one of the elves do a particularly elaborate figure-eight between tables.
Papa would have loved that. He’d definitely have named all the elves by now, given them elaborate backstories grounded in his knowledge of Norse history.
No. Stop it. I am not doing this today.
“Listen,” Scarlett interrupted her thoughts again.
“You just got back to town. I’ve been obsessing over this kaiju-casino situation for weeks.
This is the first chance we’ve had to really get our heads around what the hell the magicians are up to.
I’m not blowing this opportunity to dig up some real information. ”
Delilah shook her head. “Doesn’t it seem a little convenient that we would just happen to be lurking outside, right when the gardeners just happened to show up? For all we know, the gardeners wanted us to overhear them. Maybe this whole thing is a trap.”
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous. How could they possibly have known that we’d even?—”
“TRAP!”
Scarlett rolled her eyes. “Okay, Admiral Ackbar, whatever you say.” A cranky silence fell over the table as the sisters poked at their waffles. “Well, well, look who’s here.” She nodded toward the buffet table, where Jasper was deep in conversation with Ruth Injabere.
He looked adorably rumpled, as though he’d spent the night obsessing over the history of his four-poster bed instead of sleeping in it.
“...and it doesn’t bother you, Mrs. Injabere?
” Over the giggles of the Injabere children, the sisters could just make out their conversation.
“You’ve arranged this big family reunion, everyone traveling from hundreds and even thousands of miles away, and the minute you leave, none of you will remember it? ”
Ruth’s laugh was as warm and nourishing as Zahir’s fresh bread.
“Young man, I’m eighty-six years old. Do you know how much I no longer remember?
Honestly, I’ve already forgotten half of what I did yesterday!
Details fade for all of us, no matter what.
But that doesn’t mean the experiences didn’t matter.
They may not be up here,” she touched her head.
“But in here?” She pressed one hand to her heart. “Here, they stay.”
Something twisted in Delilah’s chest, sharp and familiar. She’d spent ten years guarding the front desk of this hotel, watching other people make memories while she locked her own away.
“Hey, Jasper,” Scarlett called out. “Come sit with us.” She waved him over, ignoring her sister’s attempts to kick her under the table.
Jasper nodded and came over, sliding into the chair beside Delilah. He’d barely set his plate down before he was pulling a notebook out of his back pocket.
“This room is fascinating,” he said, gesturing at the enchanted ceiling. “Am I understanding correctly that a witch can transform the entire room into any size or design?”
“Good morning to you too,” Scarlett interrupted cheerfully.
Jasper flushed. “Ah. Yes. Good morning.” He glanced shyly at Delilah beside him. “Er, hello.”
“Hey. Um, listen. Sorry I didn’t come back to finish the mint,” she said awkwardly. “The situation with Mama and the chandeliers was... uh... It took a while to sort out.”
“No worries, I stayed for a while longer and helped Zahir. Pretty fun, actually.”
“So!” Scarlett set down her coffee with a decisive gesture. “We’re planning a heist. Want in?”
“We are not planning a heist,” Delilah corrected.
“You’re right,” Scarlett admitted. “It’s not technically a heist. I just always wanted to do a heist, and this is as close as I’ve gotten.
Jasper, I presume you heard we have intel that a significant meeting of magicians is about to happen?
I want to sneak in there, do the whole fly-on-the-wall thing, and learn what their plan truly is.
So, actually, if you think about it, we’d be stealing information .
.. which is kind of like a heist? A bit? ”
Delilah groaned. “Why are you determined to turn a simple fact-finding mission into Ocean’s Eleven? ”
“Because it’s awesome.”
“Danny Ocean never had to deal with anti-witch wards,” Jasper pointed out.
“See?” Delilah gestured triumphantly with her fork. “Even the historian thinks it’s a bad idea.”
“Actually, I think it’s fascinating. Historically speaking, magical barriers have always had unexpected vulnerabilities that just need to be exposed to enable—” He caught the threat in Delilah’s eyes. “Yes. Terrible idea. Very bad.”
Nearby, Maya Injabere was conducting a very serious conversation with one of the elves. “But who cares if the other elves don’t like your hat,” she said with that special degree of seriousness only six-year-olds can muster. “I think your hat is very pretty.”
Her mother hurried over. “Maya, honey, we talked about this. Let the elves do their jobs in peace.”
“But, Mama, he’s sad about his hat!”
Watching the mom shepherd the little girl back to the family table, Delilah felt that familiar ache.
Papa would have helped the little girl start a support group for elves with self-esteem issues.
Made them tiny motivational posters. Maybe an elf clinging to a tree branch with Hang in There! across the bottom in a cheerful font.
“So anyway ,” her sister’s voice cut through the distracting thoughts. “I want to have a bit of sneak, see what I can learn from the proverbial horses’ mouths.”
“Or,” Delilah countered, “we could focus on something slightly less likely to get us all captured. Like, why they’re running these weird historical tours through town.”
“Ah yes, the tours!” Jasper said. “I also want to know about those tours. Why are they spreading misinformation?”
“Exactly!” Delilah tried to ignore how his entire face lit up when she agreed with him. He looked like a golden retriever discovering that tennis balls exist. “Why bother making things up? The real history is plenty dramatic without embellishment.”
“Unless...” Jasper’s eyes took on a sneaky little gleam. “Unless the point isn’t the content of the lies, but the act of lying itself.”
Both sisters stared at him.
“Think about it—what did that tour guide say yesterday? About how witches corrupted Christmas traditions? I went for a walk earlier, and?—”
Scarlett scoffed. “It’s barely 9 a.m. What do you mean, earlier ? There is no such thing as earlier than nine.”
“There, I must disagree,” Jasper grinned. “In fact, there is an entire buffet of hours that are earlier than nine, and some of them are delightful for strolling in new places. My point is, while I was out, I heard another guide telling a completely different version of that story.”
“Different how?”
“According to that tour guide, the witches of Salem were actually secret Christians who helped spread holiday celebrations through New England.”
“That’s ridiculous. Everybody knows we were pagans until Papa—” Delilah stopped abruptly, the words catching in her throat. Great. Apparently she couldn’t even get through one conversation without stumbling over another Papa-shaped landmine.
Scarlett frowned, and she reached for her sister’s hand. “Hey, Del...”
But Delilah was already pushing back from the table. “You know what? Let’s go see for ourselves.”
“Del, it’s okay . . .”
“ I’m fine .” She managed a smile that was only slightly wobbly. “What do you think, Jasper? Shall we go have a look?”
“Uh...” He glanced regretfully at his completely untouched plate of food. But then he looked at Delilah and his expression turned resolute. “Let’s do it. No time like the present, right?”
“Right.” Scarlett forced herself not to grin at them. “Okay, Mulder and Scully. I’m gonna visit Louise Demain. See if she has any ideas about those wards.”
“My gods, Scarlett, don’t drag Louise Demain into this.”
Jasper frowned. “Who’s Louise Demain?”
“Time witch,” Scarlett said with a twinkle in her eye. “Most powerful witch in Oak Haven, bar none.”
“She’s out of her damn mind,” Delilah complained. “Picture Ursula from The Little Mermaid but written by H.P. Lovecraft. Nothing Louise has to offer is going to?—”
“I’ll be careful,” Scarlett interrupted.
“Look at me, Del, I’m being responsible!
Making plans, gathering intelligence. Isn’t that the younger sister you’ve always wanted?
” She reached for a cloth napkin, wrapped a waffle in it, and held it out to Jasper.
“Here, a bit of Belgium to go. Tours start every half hour. If you hurry, you can catch one by the bookstore.”