Chapter 26
It was Monday morning, and Talula was behind on her translation work.
It was no wonder. She just couldn’t get the night before out of her head.
She had already walked into two different pieces of furniture and one door replaying the way Dahlia had felt against her mouth. Simon had asked her if she was haunted.
But when Talula wasn’t thwacking into things thinking about that kiss, she thought about the questions Dahlia had asked.
Did Talula even want her Magical Destiny? To be the Guardian of the Volta? Her whole life, it had seemed like a forgone conclusion. Had Talula ever stopped to wonder if it was really her dream? Or had she spent years beating herself up for not meeting her own impossible standards?
Talula stared out the window and thought about what she did want.
The answers came immediately. She wanted to improve her magical abilities—it was an extraordinary part of herself that she wanted to embrace.
She enjoyed helping her magical community find sanctuary.
She also liked feeding them. She didn’t like that she had to say goodbye to them forever as they disappeared into their new lives.
Talula wanted to visit all the places they went, see new sights, and learn new cultures through food and friends.
Just like her old chef mentor had offered years ago.
But she also loved her human community, just as much as she loved her magical one.
She’d always wanted to be a part of both.
To be a chef and to be a sorceress. But was that even possible?
“Simon,” Talula called, setting her pencil down. “If you weren’t a sorcerer, what would you have wanted to be?”
Simon, splayed out in a square of sunshine on the café’s rug, replied sleepily. “A sorcerer.”
“What if being a sorcerer wasn’t an option?”
Simon yawned. “Back then, you were a sorcerer, a shepherd, a priest, a soldier, a farmer, a tradesman, or the village idiot. Sorcerer was the best option.”
Talula’s phone buzzed.
“Can’t you turn that thing off?” Simon whined.
“Nope.” Talula glanced at the phone. “One of these calls might be Mom.”
Talula still hadn’t heard from Sara about her return home or how things were going with the trophy hunters.
Simon, likewise, hadn’t heard about the lost wildlings or any other missing magical beings.
But they did have some news; someone from the Council was coming to expand the town’s protective barrier any day now.
So no, every time Talula’s phone had beeped, it hadn’t been Sara.
Though it had been beeping—a lot. Talula had woken up to dozens of notifications, all of them about Samhain.
Vendors texted to confirm their spots (including a few who had canceled), called to review details, and overloaded her email with updated contracts.
Thanks to the new performers and vendors Talula had hired to replace the old ones (and ensure the most epic Samhain ever), there were more i’s to dot and t’s to cross than ever.
After responding to the text, Talula leaned against the back counter and slid to the floor, mentally reviewing everything she was worried about.
Her mom.
The trophy hunters.
Samhain.
The town hall meeting about canceling Samhain.
Her sorcery skills.
The Magic Box.
Dahlia.
Dahlia.
Dahlia.
And now, suddenly, Talula’s entire direction in life.
The weight of it seemed to squeeze the air from her lungs.
“What are you doing back here?” Simon peered at her from around the counter.
Still on the ground, Talula groaned. “Processing.”
Simon cocked his fluffy head. “How’s that going?”
Her phone beeped with another notification.
“Not wonderfully,” Talula said, and sighed.
“Any reason in particular?”
Talula weighed the pros and cons of telling Simon about her night. Finally, she decided either he was her friend or not. And now was the time to find out. “Dahlia told me she liked me.”
“A geriatric nematode could have told you that.” Simon rolled his eyes.
“Apparently, I’ve been missing some very obvious signs. Or, too afraid to see them for what they were.” Talula covered her face with her hands. “Then we…”
“You…?”
Talula peeked out from between her fingers. “Kissed.”
Simon opened his mouth to bark, then snapped his jaws closed. He stormed away, muttering to himself. Talula sat up to watch Simon pace back and forth across the café floor. Occasionally, he would tilt his head up to the ceiling fervently, as if beseeching divine intervention.
Finally, Simon stomped over to Talula. “Despite my stalwart principles about prioritizing our magical responsibilities, I find myself…” Simon’s tail gave a subtle stubby wag. “Unduly excited about this development. Tell me everything, right now.”
Talula laughed. “From the beginning?”
Simon sat down, eager despite himself. “From the beginning.”
So she did. By the end of it, Simon sighed and said, “She’s a good one, that Dahlia.”
“She is.” Talula shook her head. “I don’t think I deserve her.
Plus, even if we did wind up starting something, how long would I have to keep lying to her about magic stuff?
Until we get married? That’s not fair to her.
On that note, we all know how I’m doing with that whole Magical Destiny.
And am I being fair to my magical responsibilities if I prioritize my own happiness over the needs of my community? And then there’s—”
Simon cut her off. “You know, I’ve seen this behavior many times in heroic types.”
Talula scrunched up her face. “Am I a heroic type?”
“Do you feel overwhelmed by the many hectic goings-on of your human and magical worlds and the things you must do in order to achieve a successful outcome?”
Talula nodded.
“Then I’ll tell you what I’ve told countless others who have battled dragons, disease, and dithering fools.” Simon drew himself up regally. “A sword can only cut one enemy at a time.”
Talula considered this for a moment.
“But what if two enemies were standing really close to each other front to back, and you could just jab them both right through the guts?” Talula demonstrated with an imaginary sword. “Like a kebab?”
Simon wrinkled his furry forehead. “The enemies would have to be very still and you’d need an absurdly sharp sword and a wielder strong enough to punch through two sets of armor, bone, and viscera—” Then he caught the mischievous glint in Talula’s eyes.
“You’ve been spending too much time with Dahlia.
” Simon huffed, but his heart wasn’t in it.
“Listen, you can’t take on the whole army alone and all at once.
Letting yourself be overrun by these quandaries won’t get you closer to winning the day, whatever that may mean for you.
You have to focus on one small battle at a time and delegate when you can. Now, take a deep breath.”
Talula did.
“Choose one battle.”
Talula stood up. She silenced her phone. She cranked up the volume on her spooky lo-fi playlist and turned back to her translation work.
Simon smiled approvingly. “Very nice.”
“Thanks.” Talula smiled back. “You’re an excellent mentor.”
Simon hrmphed and waddled back over to the sunlit square of carpet. He turned in a circle three times, then tucked himself into a tidy ball. Talula almost missed the quiet words that he repeated to himself before drifting off.
“I’m an excellent mentor.”
By the time Talula had to leave for the Magic Box’s third show, she’d finished a rough translation of the recipe—Cake as You Like It. Even so, she grimaced at the page.
“What is it?” Simon asked, hopping on the counter stool in front of Talula’s work.
“Baking.”
“Isn’t that the same thing as cooking?” Simon tilted his head to get a better look at Talula’s scribbles.
“Not really. With cooking, there’s more room for a little bit of this, a little bit of that.” Talula shrugged. “Baking…if you use the wrong temperature of butter, it could completely ruin the whole thing.”
Which might be why the quiche crust turned out so crumbly, come to think of it…
“Just follow the recipe.” Simon nosed the book closer to Talula.
“I wish I could. But this recipe doesn’t have measurements. Or instructions. Just ingredients and a clue.”
Talula turned her notebook paper to where she’d translated the only instruction she could find: Make it what you want, how you want it.
“Does that mean anything to you?” Simon asked, eyebrows raised.
Grimly, Talula shook her head.
“I’m going to murder that jinn,” Simon grumbled.
“Have a little faith,” Talula said with a wry smile. “Come on, we better get going to the Magic Box.”
When they arrived at the town square, Talula saw Dahlia before Dahlia saw her.
And when she did, Talula stopped in her tracks.
Moments from the night before came flooding back, her face heating like a skillet on a high flame.
And when Dahlia turned, spotted her, and gave a big, perfect Dahlia smile, Talula lost her balance and nearly stepped on Simon.
They walked over to Dahlia, who had been chatting with Emilio and Anna by the designated protest area.
Emilio was dressed as Green Lantern this time. Anna wore black velvet cat ears.
“Hey, hon!” Anna slung an arm around Talula’s shoulders. “How was your dinner last night?”
Talula answered, never tearing her gaze away from Dahlia, “It was amazing.”
“That good, huh?” Emilio asked, elbowing Anna, who was clapping her hands with delight.
“Outstanding, really.” Dahlia smiled a devious, knowing smile and ran her tongue over her bottom lip.
Blushing furiously, Talula broke away from the trio. “We should get to work!”
The QAFD&D group, Dahlia, Talula, and even Simon went about preparing the town square for action. All the while, Dahlia found reasons to be near Talula, brushing by her with sparkling, sultry smiles and sending electricity coursing through Talula’s veins. It was a little bit torture.
(But Talula was not unhappy with this torture, to be honest.)