15. Saturnalia’s Upon Us #2
Nate joined Scarlett at the table. He was looking slightly less disheveled than his partner, but no less exhausted. “Hey, guys. We checked out the casino from a distance this morning. Place is crawling with magicians in fancy outfits, looking all smug and villainous. A lot of capes.”
“Way too many capes,” Scarlett added. “They’re definitely preparing for something. And I don’t think it involves taking ‘no’ for an answer tonight.”
“Have some coffee, my darlings.” Mama glided over, carrying a fresh carafe of coffee in one hand and mugs in the other. “You’ll need your energy for the day’s labors.”
Kelly was looking improbably put-together for someone orchestrating a feast for hundreds. Only the slight flour dusting on her sleeves betrayed any kitchen activity whatsoever.
“Mama,” Delilah began, “the magicians?—”
“—are lurking about, being menacing and overdramatic. Yes, I gathered.” Kelly poured coffee into the empty cups with precision. “That’s not exactly breaking news, dear. Magicians have been menacing and overdramatic since top hats were invented.”
“This is different,” Scarlett insisted. “They gave us a deadline. Sundown tonight. That’s when?—”
“Darlings, tell me: what exactly do you propose we would do right now? Storm the casino with wooden spoons and strong language? We won’t have our powers back until after Saturnalia.”
“Well... we could warn everyone,” Delilah said. “Get the town prepared?”
“And cause a panic that would ruin a sacred tradition?” Kelly arched an eyebrow. “No, I think not. We can’t give in to bullying. If those magicians think they can disrupt Saturnalia with vague threats, they clearly don’t understand Oak Haven very well.”
“But, Mama—” Scarlett tried again.
“The feast begins at six,” Kelly interrupted. “There will be plenty of time to deal with the magicians later.”
Delilah exchanged a look with her sister. Their mother’s confidence felt misplaced, especially given the creep show they’d seen in the council chamber.
“Now,” Kelly continued. “Caffeinate yourselves as necessary. I need all hands on deck, please. The feast preparations are catastrophically behind schedule, and I just caught Jerusha trying and failing to enchant the cranberry sauce. Now we have cranberries all over the ceiling.”
“The thing is, Mama...” Delilah tried one more time.
“No arguments, Delilah. This feast is happening, no matter what. I’ve already taken precautions. Why do you think I hired Maximillian to perform tonight?”
“I was wondering about that,” Scarlett said. “Isn’t he the one who helped the magicians try and take over the town last year?”
“Of course—not that he remembers.” Kelly smiled with the satisfaction of a chess player revealing a particularly clever move. “Keep your friends close and your enemies where you can watch them sparkle. Now, finish your coffees and meet me in the kitchen. All of you.”
She departed in a cloud of subtle perfume and absolute authority. “And if anyone sees Candace,” she called over her shoulder, “tell her those centerpieces need to be redone! They look like something the cat dragged in and vomited tinsel all over!”
A silence fell in her wake.
“Is she always like that?” Jasper asked.
“Yes,” the sisters said together.
“So I guess we’re?—”
“Yep.” Nate stood up. “Galley slaves until further notice.”
“Wait,” Delilah said as the others began to rise. “Hang on. I still don’t think we should just wait for disaster to strike.”
“Sure.” Scarlett nodded. “But what can we do? Everybody in town is focused on this feast tonight. Mama does have a point: they’re all salivating about coming here for dinner, and they aren’t going to want to hear any bad news from the Melrose sisters.”
“Although,” Jasper offered hesitantly, “isn’t that exactly what you want?”
Three pairs of eyes turned to him.
“I mean,” he adjusted his glasses nervously, “from what I gather, your entire town will be in one place.”
“You’re right,” Scarlett agreed. “Maximize our warning efficiency. But when? Mama’s got the whole evening scheduled down to the minute. There’s the welcome speech, the traditional toast, Maximillian’s performance...”
Delilah brightened. “That’s it! Everyone will be heckling the crap out of him anyway. We’ll interrupt it.”
“Mid-performance?” Nate asked. “Your mom will be furious.”
“Better in trouble with Mama than attacked by magicians,” Scarlett pointed out.
Nate made a face. “You sure about that?”
But Scarlett was already plotting. She turned to Jasper. “Could you do it? You’re a neutral party here. People might actually listen to you. Del and I have a history of?—”
“Shenanigans,” Nate interrupted. “Hi-jinx. Tomfoolery.”
“I was going to say, unfortunate errors in judgment . But okay. Point is, they may not take us seriously. But Jasper, you’ve got that whole professor vibe going.” Scarlett gestured at his general... Jasperness. “You’re an outsider. You’re an authority.”
“I don’t know... How can I be an authority on anything? I barely know where I am.”
“It’s a great idea! Listen—” Delilah squeezed his arm in her enthusiasm, and Jasper’s eyes widened in shock at her touch.
It was an unpleasant reminder that he no longer knew her as well as she did him.
“Listen,” she began carefully. “I know none of this makes sense to you right now. But our whole town is facing something really dangerous, and we could use your help.”
Jasper looked at her for a long moment. “Okay,” he said finally. “But if I’m going to stand up in front of an entire town of witches, I’d like to at least understand what I’m talking about. Can you explain everything to me? The whole situation, from the beginning?”
“Absolutely.” Delilah nodded. “But we better do it over a pile of potatoes, or Mama will hex the hell out of us once she gets her powers back.”
As they made their way toward the kitchen, Delilah found herself watching Jasper. The way he took everything in, his expression one of anxiety and fascination in equal parts. The way he kept glancing at her when he thought she wasn’t looking.
Focus, Delilah, she told herself sternly. Crisis first, feelings later. If there is a later.
But as she followed him into the kitchen, she couldn’t help but think that even in the midst of impending doom, her heart had picked a spectacularly inconvenient time to remember it existed.
The kitchen was, as Delilah had expected, an utter madhouse.
Steam billowed from massive pots while three different timers beeped at different rates, each more insistently than the last. A mountain of potatoes sat beside an equally impressive pile of potato peels, looking like the Alps recreated in starch.
There was a puddle of spilled hot sauce on the floor.
Jerusha stood atop a teetering stepladder, trying to wipe cranberry sauce off the ceiling. Her elegant hairdo was now polka-dotted with red.
“Oh for—” she muttered, stretching to reach a stubborn glob. “If I could just—” She pointed at the ceiling and snapped her fingers, then looked surprised when nothing happened. “Dammit!”
“You can stop your snapping,” Candace muttered. She was arranging flowers at a nearby workstation, her otherwise immaculate appearance undermined a bit by the holly leaves stuck to her sweater.
“Amateurs.” Zahir moved through the mayhem with resignation, quietly adjusting temperatures and rescuing sauces from the brink of separation. “You’d think after centuries of doing this, you’d remember how to function without magic for a few days.”
“Easy for you to say,” Jerusha shot back. “You’ve never had to live without it.”
“Oh yes, the lifetime I’ve spent actually developing skills is so much easier than your charmed existence of pointing at things and snapping your fingers.”
Across the kitchen, Kelly was attempting to truss a turkey, but the string kept slipping. “For heaven’s sake,” she muttered, trying again. “This would take two seconds if I could just—” She made a quick gesture, then looked annoyed when the string remained uncooperatively limp.
“Need a hand?” Delilah asked, approaching her mother.
“Pshh... I’ve been trussing poultry since before you were born,” Kelly replied. “I just need to remember how to do it manually.” She fumbled with the string again and cursed under her breath.
“Here.” Delilah gently took the string from her mother’s hands. “Let me.”
Kelly surrendered. “Thank you, darling. I don’t know what’s wrong with me today. I keep reaching for magic that isn’t there.”
“Happens every year,” Delilah reminded her, expertly looping the string around the turkey’s legs.
Mama laid a gentle hand on the small of her daughter’s back. “I want you to know—I do understand about the magicians.”
Delilah looked up sharply. “So you believe us now?”
“I always believed you. I just don’t think panicking is especially helpful. We handle this the way we’ve always handled magicians: calmly, strategically, and without letting them disrupt our lives.” Kelly’s eyes gleamed. “If those magicians want a fight, we’ll give them one. But first, we feast.”
On the far side of the kitchen, Jerusha had surrendered on the cranberry ceiling front and taken up berating Candace about the centerpieces. “Those pinecones should be pointing north-northwest to honor the winter solstice! Did you do them wrong? Or have they moved on their own?”
“They’re pinecones, Jerusha,” Candace shot back. “They don’t have directional awareness!”
“Um, Mama?” Delilah ventured, returning to the more pressing crisis. “About Maximillian. Are you sure hiring him was a good idea? I mean, given his history with the town...”
“Of course it’s a good idea,” Kelly replied, inspecting Delilah’s turkey-trussing with approval.
“The forgetting spell wiped his memory of ever being our enemy. Now he’s just a mediocre stage magician with a questionable accent.
Plus, keeping him close lets us monitor the doings of his colleagues.
Last time, he gathered information on us, but tonight, we turn the tables. ”
“You’re using him as bait,” Delilah realized.
“I prefer to think of it as strategic entertainment booking.” Kelly smiled thinly. “Now, enough conspiracy theories. Scarlett, those napkins won’t fold themselves.”
As Kelly moved away to intervene in yet another holiday crisis, Scarlett nudged Delilah. “Mama’s playing a dangerous game.”
“When isn’t she?” Delilah watched their mother effortlessly separate Jerusha and Candace, redirecting their energies to different tasks.
“But I think she might be right about Maximillian. If he is working with the magicians again, tonight’s performance would be the perfect cover for whatever they’re planning. ”
“So what do we do?” Scarlett asked.
Delilah caught sight of Jasper across the kitchen, peeling potatoes with the precision of a surgeon. Despite everything, he was still here, still trying to help.
From across the kitchen came a crash, followed by Kelly’s voice rising above the chaos: “Who put turmeric in the figgy pudding? Zahir! Someone fetch Zahir to come fix this!”
Delilah and Scarlett shared a look.
“It’s going to be a long day.” Delilah sighed.
“May as well eat, drink, and be merry,” her sister noted. “Isn’t that what they say?”
After all, they were Melroses. And Melroses knew how to throw one hell of a party, even at the end of the world.