16. Now Bring Us a Figgy Pudding #3
On stage, Maximillian had moved on to his second trick: pulling seemingly endless colorful scarves from his sleeve while simultaneously delivering terrible puns.
“Watch closely!” he declared. “For nothing is as it seams !”
“That doesn’t even make sense,” grumbled Jerusha from the bar.
“I’ve seen better tricks from my five-year-old niece!” someone else called out.
“Ah, but can your niece do... this ?” Maximillian produced a white rabbit from his hat with a flourish that suggested he’d just invented nuclear fusion.
“Well, yeah,” came a shout from one corner of the room. And: “Of course we can!” from another.
“Not today, you can’t!” Maximillian shot back, surprisingly quick on his feet. “ Yo Saturnalia and so on.”
The audience roared with laughter.
“You got us there,” Candace shouted from the bar.
“Indeed! And now—” Maximillian drew himself up to his full height “—for my next spectacular illusion, I shall require a volunteer from the audience!”
Jasper nodded. “Hey, maybe this is a good moment to?—”
Before he could even finish, both Delilah and Scarlett delivered swift kicks to his shins.
“Ow!” he yelped. “Dammit!”
“Is that brave gentleman volunteering?” He pointed dramatically at Jasper. “Yes, you sir! The man in pain! Please, join me on stage!”
Jasper straightened his jacket with as much dignity as he could muster and approached the stage.
“Actually,” he began, “if Maximillian will indulge me... I wanted to take this opportunity to introduce myself. I’m Jasper Hopkins, the chief archivist of this county.
I’ve been asked to address some troubling developments.
.. literally, real estate developments. .. right outside of Oak Haven.”
But Maximillian wasn’t having it. With the practiced ease of a performer used to handling hecklers, he smoothly cut Jasper off, placing an arm around his shoulders and steering him toward a large box: an upright coffin-like structure painted with mystical symbols.
“Ladies and gentlemen, what we have here is a most unusual volunteer! A man of history, of documentation. A perfect subject for... THE CABINET OF FATE!”
“Yes of course,” Jasper tried again. “But if I could just have a moment to address the crowd?—”
“The magnificent Maximillian will make this gentleman vanish before your very eyes!” the magician continued, ignoring Jasper completely. “Prepare to be astounded!”
With a flurry of movements too quick to follow, Maximillian opened the cabinet, showed the audience that it was empty, and then, before Jasper could protest, shoved him inside and slammed the door.
Delilah sat up straighter, and a chill ran down her spine. This wasn’t part of the plan. Jasper was supposed to deliver his warning, not actually take part in some stupid magic trick. She glanced at Scarlett for reassurance, but her sister was staring at the stage.
Maximillian waved his hands over the cabinet, reciting nonsense in that same wandering accent. “Abracadabra! Hocus-pocus! Bibbidi-bobbidi-boo!” He paused, looking slightly embarrassed. “That last one was from a movie, but you get the idea.”
He flung open the cabinet door with a dramatic flourish. “Behold! The volunteer has vanished!”
The cabinet was empty.
Scarlett whirled around to meet her sister’s eyes. What the hell? they both mouthed. Delilah started to get up.
“For my next astounding feat—” Maximillian began, but he was interrupted by a sudden shift in the atmosphere, like pressure dropping before a storm.
The candles fluttered, and the temperature seemed to plummet by several degrees.
In a swirl of burgundy fabric, a woman appeared at the entrance to the hall.
Her silver hair was twisted into an elegant knot, and her face held a kind of cold, terrifying beauty.
It was the magician from the casino, the one who had delivered the ultimatum.
Maximillian’s expression faltered. “Ah, madame! I wasn’t expecting?—”
“Your performance is over,” the woman said, her voice cutting through the suddenly silent room. With a casual gesture, she sent Maximillian flying off the stage.
“Ramona! What is the meaning of this?” Kelly stood, her voice steady despite the obvious threat. “You and your magician thugs not invited to our celebration.”
Delilah and Scarlett made eye contact again, this time each mouthing “Ramona?!” at the other.
Mama is on a first-name basis with a powerful magician? Apparently? Delilah was struggling to take this in. And here I thought the Mandy Patinkin thing was the weirdest connection Mama had.
Wonders really never did cease where Kelly Melrose was concerned.
“Your deadline has passed.” The burgundy woman, apparently Ramona, strode forward through the crowd and ascended the stage. “We magicians have come to claim what is rightfully ours.”
“And what would that be?” Kelly asked.
“Everything. Starting with the grove.”
Witches all over the banquet hall instinctively tried to summon their magic, gesturing wildly or muttering incantations under their breath. But of course, nothing happened. No magical shields formed, no counter-spells manifested. The realization spread through the room like a virus.
Then Delilah saw her mother, marching towards the stage to confront Ramona face-to-face. “Mama, don’t!” She leaped to her feet, Scarlett mirroring her action on the other side of the table.
But it was too late. Kelly had already ascended, standing toe-to-toe with the burgundy woman.
“Our answer is this: we will never give you the grove, because the grove is not ours to give away. It belongs to the land itself. It belongs to the Earth. It cannot be given, nor can it be taken. It cannot be owned at all.”
“How charming.” Ramona’s voice was practically drowning in condescension. “A witch who thinks she knows her history. But all you know are lies.” With a flick of her wrist, she sent Kelly stumbling backward toward the open cabinet.
“No!” Delilah shouted, finally reaching the stage, Scarlett right beside her. They lunged forward, trying to grab their mother, but an invisible force held them back.
“The time for negotiation has passed,” Ramona announced. “Now we take what we want.”
“Mama!” Scarlett cried.
Kelly’s eyes locked with her daughters. There was fear there, yes, but also something else: resolve, and beneath that, something that looked almost like a plan. “Get Luna,” she managed to say before the door slammed shut. “You three need each other.”
Ramona smiled, but it was a cold, satisfied smile that made Delilah’s blood run cold. “Let this be a lesson,” she announced to the horrified crowd. “Magic belongs to those strong enough to wield it.”
With a broad, arcing gesture, she enveloped herself and the cabinet in a massive burst of flame. When the smoke cleared, all that remained was a pile of ash and the echo of her laughter.