Spell Fire (23 page)

Isis glanced up through her curls and blinked at me. Jett whisked her toward the back room. Hopefully he just intended to sign his time card and not abandon her back there. Though keeping her on the sales floor didn't seem like a good solution either.

They both emerged a few minutes later. Jett nodded to Uncle Esmun, who sat at the military table, creating an amulet for a tattooed Marine. Jett waited until my customer wandered over to the register line, then asked, "Could you hand me Isis's fairy dust?"

"Sure." When Aunt Terra stepped aside to hand a customer his purchase, I reached under the counter and retrieved the little glass pot. "Here you go."

"Thanks. Has it been this busy all morning?"

"Just the past hour." I leaned over the glass and lowered my voice so Aunt Terra wouldn't hear me. "Did your mom flake?"

"She had to work. School is out. No babysitter. I couldn't leave Isis home alone."

My fury toward adults who endangered or neglected their children stirred like fanned flames.
Your mom should deal with this, not you.
Tamping down a tirade, I said, "Aunt Terra could use a lunch break."

Jett glanced at the register line and nodded before snatching up the fairy dust. "I'm going to be busy," he warned Isis. "So remember what I told you."

"Don't leave the store and stay out of trouble."

"Good. Where do you want to go first?"

She nodded toward the castle I had fashioned out of boxes.

"Okay. Be good." To me, he asked, "Thor coming in today?"

"I don't know." My cheeks heated. "He hasn't called." I scooted out of the register area to make room for Jett, greeting two new customers as they walked in the door. All week I had been hoping for this kind of crush. Now I worried someone would walk Isis out the door and kidnap her.

Two young girls and a boy approached the kid area. Seeing them, Isis picked up her backpack and headed for a chair in the book section. I got swept into showing a twenty-something couple the amethyst geodes and crystal ball we kept in a locked display case. Then another customer requested help finding lemon balm among our packaged herbs. I palmed a question about prosperity spells off on Uncle Esmun. Books, CDs, statues, and jewelry were more my comfort zone. They were tangible. Countable.

Aunt Terra had delayed her break until after everyone in the register line had been helped. Afterward she swept up alongside me, her long, green dress rippling. "I'm back," she said. "Esmun wants you to go next."

My stomach grumbled. "Are you sure?"

"We've hit a lull. Go while you can."

"I'll be in the back if you need me. Okay if I use the computer while I eat?"

"You don't have to ask. Use it anytime."

"Thanks." I kept my head down as I walked, avoiding being sucked into the mural or catching a customer's eye. The bathroom was free, so I made a quick stop before taking refuge in the office. After I had pulled my sack lunch out of the mini refrigerator and sat down, I realized I hadn't seen Isis for a while.

As if she could read my thoughts, Isis appeared in the doorway.

"It's noisy out there," she said.

My shoulders sagged. "Have a seat."

She tucked her backpack onto the spare chair in the office, then climbed up after it. I brought up my email account and unpacked the sandwich I had made that morning.

Isis made a face. "What are you eating?"

"Cucumber, arugula, cheese, and avocado."

"Yuck." She pulled a brown paper sack out of her backpack. "I have peanut butter and jelly."

"Admirable choice. But you can't drink in here. Spills wreck computers."

"Okay. I'll wait."

Rayne's email about how hard finals had been converted my sandwich into a lead ball. The email from my French teacher informing me I had received a B plus on my AP French final resurrected my anger at my parents.
I could have earned an A if I had taken the exam with the rest of the class.
If I didn't start studying, I'd be lucky to earn average grades on the rest of my exams.

"Why aren't you glowing?" Isis asked.

I peeked at her around the edge of the monitor. "Because I'm mad."

Isis shrank back. "Who are you mad at?"

I sighed, then softened my voice. "My parents. Myself."

Isis relaxed. "I get mad at my parents, too."

Remembering her mother, I could see why.

"You should think of something happy so you can become an angel again."

"I'm not an angel."

Isis took a bite of her peanut butter and jelly sandwich and slowly chewed. When she finished, she pulled out a sparkly blue and yellow princess thermos.

I rose and reached for the container. "Away from the computer, remember? Come on." I walked her to the glass table in the adjoining room and waited until she had taken several gulps of her apple juice and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Ready." She left the thermos and plastic cup on the table and skipped back into the office to resume eating.

I followed her and checked the monitor. Thor's reply to my morning email appeared: "Guess I overdid it yesterday. Sorry I can't come in."

Had he been hospitalized? Why no indication of when he'd be back?

"You look like my brother."

"Huh? I do not. He has dark hair."

"You look worried. Scared. Just like him."

"Why is Jett worried and scared?"

Isis did a one-shoulder shrug.

"What did he tell you?"

She rubbed the sides of her shoes together and planted her chin on her chest. "He's afraid everyone will laugh at him."

"Why would they laugh?"

"Because he might not be able to make the magic."

My shoulders rose and fell. "He has an amazing talent. He'll do fine."

Isis pointed her half-eaten sandwich at me. "Promise you won't let people laugh at him."

"You and your brother are sure big on promises."

She scraped her shoes against each other.

"Okay." I hated to think of how many times their mother must have broken her promises to them. "I'm not sure what I could do, but I promise."

Isis's feet stilled. She took a final bite of her sandwich. When she finished chewing, she slipped off her chair again and stood. "Don't worry," she said. "The angel will know what to do." She wiped her hands on her princess dress, making me cringe. "I'm thirsty."

"You still have juice in your cup. Do you need help?"

"No, thanks." She flounced out.

I stared at Thor's email. Pressing my lips together, I blinked back tears.
He shouldn't have promised me he wouldn't disappear.

Isis waved to me from the doorway.

I straightened in the chair and reached for the computer mouse.
An Avalon-Bennett always keeps her promises.
With a click, I re-opened Dad's email, and I began to type.

Chapter Twenty-Six

"Sounds like a full house." Jett paced the dim hallway.

"A bunch of people phoned in ticket orders this morning." I plucked at the white French cuff peeping out from under my black designer pullover. I had layered them over khaki pants with ankle ties. My black stilettos added three inches to my height and a much-needed boost to my confidence. "We had to rent more folding chairs."

I crept to the end of the freestanding bookcase and peered around it. No sign among the crowd of Thor's wavy blond hair. Deflated, I rejoined Jett and Isis.

Jett chewed his thumbnail.

"Don't worry." Isis took her brother's hand. "Morningstar is protecting the crystal ball. No one will break it."

"Yeah. Good." Vertical worry lines trenched above Jett's nose, mirroring the ones I felt furrowing between my brows. We exchanged a worried glance. Morningstar had filled in for Thor, who had gone off the radar almost completely. His silence unnerved me. Was he dying? Were his overprotective parents holding him hostage? Had he forgotten how to make a phone call?

My heart constricted. What if this wasn't about his illness? What if it was about me? Maybe he couldn't look at me without seeing a lunatic. Maybe he had become the Hermit and was waiting for me to journey out of his life.

I should have checked my almanac this morning and not stashed my purse in the office.

Portia squeezed past a pair of latecomers. Her dangly earrings — seven colored crystals representing the main chakras — swayed as she hurried toward us. She clutched the black tote containing the strange spell book. Seeing it, my gut clenched and I stepped back into the shadows. Portia's daughter and granddaughter had arrived the day before. By now, Evie would have connected the dots and told Portia, "Yeah, I know Ainslie Avalon-Bennett. She ended up in a mental ward after her best friend disappeared."

Heat flared across my cheeks and spread higher, making my eyes water.

"There you are," Portia said in a stage whisper. She must have used extra mousse on her hair. The gray spikes on top of her head appeared extra stiff and pointy.

"Can you keep this safe for me? Evie was supposed to guard it, but she and her mother are running late." Portia shook her head. "They hit the galleries and boutiques in Palm Springs and lost track of the time. Artists!"

"Sure. I'll watch it." I searched Portia's face. No crazy girl wariness. The tension eased out of my shoulders.

Portia stabbed an arthritic finger at the tote. "Behave." To me she said, "Thanks, kiddo. The grimoire is priceless, so don't lose it."

"I won't."

"Break a leg," she told Jett.

"That's not nice," Isis scolded.

"It means 'good luck,'" I explained.

Isis appeared unconvinced. Portia waggled her fingers then plunged back into the fray.

"What's a grimoire?" Isis asked.

"A spell book." I hefted the tote. "It's gotten heavier." A swamp image flashed in my mind, then disappeared. Heebie-jeebies jittered down my arms. I placed the black bag at my feet. The grimoire shifted within the tote and thunked against my shins. At least it remained silent.

It likes true love.
I sensed the grimoire assessing the crowd as though it were a dog sniffing the breeze. Maybe it searched for Evie or a certain Viking dragon shaman.
Join the club.
I walked the tote to the end of the bookcase and scanned the crowd and front door again before shifting my gaze to the stage.

Aunt Terra nodded to Morningstar. The waitress relinquished the makeshift stage. She took up sentry in front of the jewelry counter, near the register. Aunt Terra positioned herself beside the velvet-draped table showcasing the crystal ball. The holly, bay, and mistletoe I had ordered from the florist ringed the raised platform supporting the crystal. Their fresh, wintry scents cut through the incense smells, reminding me of home. With a pang, I thought of my parents. I hadn't heard from Dad since his miffed response to my email. Mom, at least, had called and said she was proud of me for upholding my promise to Aunt Terra.

"Dad's disappointed," Mom had explained over the phone, "because he wanted us to spend Christmas together."

Yeah. Well. So did I.

Aunt Terra's star-white cotton-and-lace dress stood out among the sea of dark pants and Christmas sweaters. The silver circlet with a fiery garnet she wore around her head gleamed. The crowd quieted. I beckoned to Jett and Isis to inch forward.

"Welcome, everyone!" Aunt Terra clasped her hands together and beamed at the audience. "I'm pleased to see so many new and familiar faces." She gestured toward Betty, Arthur, and other store regulars who had arrived early to secure front row seats.

As she continued her introduction, Jett murmured in my ear, "If this bombs, I'll have to switch schools."

I assumed my best stage manager pep rally whisper. "You've got this. You crackle with magic."

He snorted. "You lie like a dog."

"Prove me right." I extended my arm, fist closed, and bumped Jett's inked knuckles. Tiny currents zapped me. My lips spread into a genuine smile. "Oh, yeah! You crackle!"

A smug smile lit Jett's face. He flicked his head and his bangs swung upward, revealing dark bad boy eyes.

"Two lucky audience members will receive fire fortunes tonight," Aunt Terra announced from the stage. "Without further ado, I present Jett Julliard."

Jett released Isis's hand and jogged to the stage as though he were a boxer entering the ring. When he pivoted toward the audience and raised his arm in greeting, his ebony blazer shifted, revealing the dark red tee beneath. His iconic black skinny jeans molded his narrow legs. He had painted over the white areas of his piano-keyboard sneakers with a blood-red felt pen.

On cue, Lucia dimmed the lights. The flames from five tea candles on the table cast an eerie glow. The clapping quieted. I hoisted the tote bag. Isis clasped my free hand, and we tiptoed closer, shielded by a bookcase, and sat on the carpet.

"The winter solstice marks the longest night of the soul," Jett began. "Tonight alone, darkness triumphs. Before we bring in the light of fire and the light of fortune, let us take a moment to close our eyes and reflect back on the year."

Isis scooted closer until her knobby knee jabbed against my thigh. The tote with the spell book weighed against my other leg. I closed my eyes and thought back to my friends at Athenian Academy, my parents' announcement about the cruise, Isis and her mother on the plane, meeting Aunt Terra and Uncle Esmun, my first encounters with Jett and Thor, and meeting the board. My mind backed up to Thor
.
I opened my eyes and wiped my hands up and down my khakis.

Onstage, Jett released a long breath. "Lucia, please raise the lights. Not to full brightness. Thank you." His gaze swept the audience. "Has everyone who wants a fire fortune placed their names in the hat? Sorry, but you must be fourteen years or older." He held aloft a black velvet top hat Aunt Terra had retrieved from her costume trunk. Three late arrivals hurried over and stuffed handwritten scraps of paper into the hat. As they returned to their seats, Jett motioned Morningstar to the stage and implored her to mix up the contents of the hat.

Jett focused on the audience. "If I draw your name, please come onstage and stand beside me. Bring one person to stand as witness."