A Magical Match

by Juliet Blackwell

  Next, I unwrapped the lachrymatory and held the small bottle up to the light. I gazed at the tiny crystals within, tumbling as I turned the glass bottle. Were these the vestiges of my tears? Had I cried? I remembered Tristan saying—via Hervé—“The tears of the daughter . . .”

  If these truly were mine, they were too precious to keep in a shoe box. I secured the stopper with some soft wax, then cleaned and anointed the bottle with olive oil, and added it to my leather medicine bag.

  Next, I took the stones and crystals from the shoe box and added them to my basket of stones. Several hummed with teenage angst and energy, a few with great sadness. But as I knew only too well, negative forces could also be useful in spells. It was all about balance.

  Finally, I picked up the watch. The glass face was scratched, the brown leather band worn. Had my father given this to me? Or had I nabbed it? It put me in mind of Sailor’s missing watch. I wondered whether the police had taken it into evidence, as Sailor had suggested . . . or if someone had stolen it from him to cast a Sailor-looking glamour. If so, it would suggest this person knew where Sailor lived, as well as Sailor’s connection to Tristan Dupree. And this person wouldn’t want Dupree horning in on Renee’s attention.

  I considered winding the wristwatch to see if it worked, but remembered seeing this same watch nestled with the broken eggs in my vision. Probably it was merely symbolic of my father betraying me, but just in case . . . I set the watch, unwound, on my bedside table, alongside my parents’ wedding photo, and the one of me as a toddler.

  All that was left in the box were the last vestiges of herbs and the silverfish. Very special silverfish, apparently, which could be used to cast glamours. They might come in handy someday, if I took the time to experiment a little and discover how to use them.

  As I went to close the box, I noticed with astonishment that the creepy little fellows had arranged themselves in the shape of Deliverance Corydon’s mark.

  * * *

  • • •

  The day dawned bright and cheery, a beautiful spring morning for the Magical Match Tea. Officially the event started at eleven, but the steering committee showed up early to finish setting up.

  Tables were covered with colorful cloths, plates were stacked, and silverware was put into jars. Food arrived by the carload: platters of cookies and petits fours, trays of finger sandwiches and cupcakes, and bowls of fruit. There were vats of coffee and tea, and pitchers of juice and punch. Maya had put together a playlist that featured a mix of old and new tunes, and there was a good deal of dancing while we finished our preparations.

  We were a raucous, excited, and extremely well-dressed crowd.

  Maya and Lucille wore matching turquoise dresses patterned with little sprigs of bright red cherries. Bronwyn’s twelve-year-old granddaughter, Imogen, wore an actual vintage dress in a pretty butter yellow with white embroidery, while Bronwyn wore a version that Lucille had skillfully produced to match the original. Selena and I were matching in our polka-dot dresses, and the rest of the coven sisters came with an assortment of daughters, nieces, and granddaughters. Starr brought her two foster daughters, forming a matching trio instead of a pair. Wendy brought her barista buddy, Xander; they were outfitted in matching corsets and black boots with faded jeans. They both looked quite fetching.

  “Where’s Wind Spirit?” I asked the group, checking my watch. “It’s almost ten thirty.”

  “She texted me that she had to pick up some cupcakes,” Starr said. “Said she was running late.”

  “Looks like we have plenty of cupcakes already,” I said.

  “She wanted to be sure there were more than enough, Lily,” Bronwyn explained. “It’s just the way she is.”

  If Wind Spirit really was working with Renee, I reflected, she wasn’t trying to hide it. Then again, why would she? How in the world was I supposed to prove that she had cast a glamour to look like Sailor while attacking and murdering Tristan?

  Conrad declined to attend the actual tea, but accepted a muffin and the smoothie I had made for him with the special brew I concocted last night. He announced he would stand outside and act as doorman.

  “I’ll keep our little porker friend out here with me if you want.”

  “Good idea. That way he won’t be underfoot. I’ll bring you both some snacks later.” Something occurred to me. “Conrad, do you know what time Amoeba Records opens?”

  “Dude, I love that place. It opens at eleven, every day of the week. Want me to run and buy you an LP? I didn’t even know you had a record player.”

  “I don’t, actually. I was just wondering. Thanks for staffing the door.”

  “Happy to do it.”

  I looked up and down the street. Still no sign of Wind Spirit or Renee. But others were beginning to arrive; from both directions, women—young, old, and in between—wearing matching dresses were walking toward Aunt Cora’s Closet. It was a sight to see.

  “Dude,” said Conrad.

  “Dude,” I echoed in agreement.

  Soon the shop was crowded with chattering partygoers. Most were women; other than Xander, only one brave man had taken us up on the invitation and wore a sort of late-1970s jumpsuit that matched the one his daughter wore. The two of them stood together, beaming with pride. I welcomed several Aunt Cora’s Closet regulars, as well as Haight Street neighbors.

  “Here comes Renee,” said Maya quietly. She had sidled up to me without my noticing, so intent was I on the arrivals.

  I stroked my medicine bag for strength, and to help me focus.

  “Accompanied by Wind Spirit, in matching cupcake dresses.” Just as I’d thought. They carried large pink bakery boxes, which they set down on a nearby refreshment table. Wind Spirit started removing the cupcakes from the boxes and setting them on plates, while Renee worked the crowd, the picture of ease and contentment.

  Surely she wouldn’t have dosed cupcakes that were for the general public, would she? Was I willing to take that chance?

  “How does Wind Spirit know Renee, do you suppose?” asked Maya.

  “I’m not sure, but I’ll bet it has something to do with cupcakes.” I continued to watch Wind Spirit, trying to determine if she was left-handed. She was using both hands to put out the cupcakes, not seeming to favor either one.

  “You want me to . . . keep an eye on them, or something?” Maya asked. “I’m not sure what I should be on the lookout for, but I’m happy to try.”

  “That’s okay, Maya. Thanks, though. Mostly I want to get Wind Spirit alone to see if I can get her to tell me anything,” I said.

  “Wind Spirit? I thought you told me you were worried about Renee?”

  “I’m worried about both of them. It’s . . . a long story.”

  Maya nodded. “So what else is new, right? I’ll go ask Renee to tell me about her cupcake business. That ought to keep her busy for a little while.”

  “That’s a great idea.”

  She moved across the room to join Renee, then subtly steered her over to chat with Lucille on the other side of the room. I approached Wind Spirit as she was arranging the last of the cupcakes on a tiered glass stand. At least they hadn’t brought meat pasties, so I didn’t have to worry about poisonous mushrooms.

  “Are those ‘special’ cupcakes?” I asked Wind Spirit.

  “Oh, yes, indeed they are! From Renee’s bakery!”

  “So I hear. Wind Spirit, I have something in the back for you that you left at the voodoo supply shop the other day. And, oh! Look at this!” I said, picking up the tiered cupcake stand. “This platter needs to be tended to. . . . It’s not shiny enough. Let’s bring it in the back with us. Would you grab the bakery box with the rest of the cupcakes? There are more platters in the back.”

  “Oh, um . . . sure.”

  I led the way to the rear workroom, where it was slightly quieter. We set the cupcakes down on the kitche
n counter.

  “That is such a cute dress,” I said. “How in the world did you and Renee decide to come together, as a match?”

  “It’s the craziest thing! I’m wild about her cupcakes, but then, isn’t everyone? So anyway, the second time I went into her bakery, she remembered my name—I have people I’ve known for ages who can’t remember my name. She’s so thoughtful.”

  “I’ll bet. Here’s the stuff you left at Hervé’s shop,” I said, handing her the canvas bag.

  She took it from me and peeked inside the bag. A blush stained her cheeks. “Oh, thank you. Did you, uh, see what’s in here?”

  “The hexing supplies? Yes, I did.”

  “Please don’t tell the coven sisters,” she said, stashing the bag under the table. “They wouldn’t approve. It’s just . . . I’m trying to get this little side business going, believe it or not, growing mushrooms in the basement of my apartment building. The super gave me permission and everything. But then my cousin stole my idea, and she’s trying to edge me out. . . . I know it’s silly, and I shouldn’t resort to something like this, but . . .” She trailed off.

  “What kind of mushrooms are you growing?”

  “Champignons de Paris,” she said. “Otherwise known as button mushrooms.”

  “Not amanita?”

  Wind Spirit looked shocked. “Those are poisonous! I would never grow something so dangerous. I took classes—I know what I’m talking about. I won’t even forage in the woods around here because unless you really know what you’re looking for, it’s easy to make a mistake. No, I get the spores from a reputable source in North Beach, and sell to a couple of local vendors.”

  “I went out to visit Calypso Cafaro recently, and she mentioned that you had been out there.”

  “Isn’t she amazing? But, Lily, shouldn’t we bring the cupcakes out for everyone and join the party?”

  “Soon,” I said, deliberately taking my time as I arranged the cupcakes on a painted ceramic platter. As far as I could tell, I thought Wind Spirit was telling me the truth, but I was hesitant to trust my dulled senses. “Calypso mentioned you knew a lot about glamours.”

  Wind Spirit looked away and blushed again. “I’ve been reading up on them. But no matter how hard I try, I haven’t been able to manage much.”

  “Why would you want to cast a glamour?”

  She shrugged. “I know it’s silly. The coven sisters always tell me I’m beautiful, just as I am. But I’ve always wanted to be . . . lithe—d’you know what I mean? I’m short and not exactly petite. I’ve always wanted to be sort of elfin, for want of a better word. I know it’s foolish.”

  “Bronwyn tells me you’re an expert in a martial art.”

  “It’s called eskrima,” she said with a nod. “I practically grew up in my dad’s studio. I’ve known how to fight since before I can remember. I’m strong, but not . . .”

  “Elfin,” I said. “I get it.”

  “It makes it hard to fit into your vintage inventory. I’ll tell you that much. Anyway, the glamour thing might be silly, but I thought maybe I could make people see me in a different light, somehow.”

  “Well, I agree with your coven sisters—I think you’re beautiful just as you are. And I think being strong and skilled in eskrima is more impressive than being thin, or even elfin.”

  She smiled. Beyond the brocade curtains, the noise was ratcheting up. There was the usual chatter and music of a party, with the occasional raised voice as well. Wind Spirit looked longingly toward the curtains, as though anxious to join the party.

  “I suppose we should be getting back,” I said. “Let’s bring some fruit with us.”

  I picked up an orange and tossed it to her. She caught it with her right hand. So much for that theory.

  “Lily, are you sure everything is all right?” she asked curiously.

  “Yes, Wind Spirit. It’s fine. Sorry. . . . I just thought we should get to know each other better. Let’s go join the party. Do you happen to know what time it is?”

  She took her phone out of her pocket and checked the display. “Almost eleven twenty.”

  “I guess no one wears a watch anymore,” I said.

  “I know I don’t,” she said with a laugh. “Want me to bring the cupcakes with us or save them for later?”

  I hesitated. I hadn’t felt anything from the little cakes, and I truly couldn’t imagine Renee would ruin her reputation by putting anything frightening in this batter for such a public event. Still . . .

  “Let’s hold on to them for later,” I said. “Just so people don’t pass up the home-baked items in favor of Renee’s cupcakes. We wouldn’t want anyone to get their feelings hurt. And besides, who would eat fruit if they could have one of Renee’s cupcakes? We’ll bring them out when the food runs low.”

  Wind Spirit looked disappointed, but agreed. She grabbed the bowl of fruit, clearly unconvinced it was an adequate substitute for Renee’s elaborately frosted cupcakes.

  “Lily!”

  I ducked through the curtains as soon as I heard someone scream my name.

  Out on the shop floor, I discovered all hell had broken loose.

  Chapter 28

  “What is going on?” I asked Bronwyn as she approached.

  “The-there are bugs!”

  Dozens of silverfish scurried around the crowded shop floor, light glinting off their little writhing bodies.

  “Ew!” Starr cried out, and she and her foster daughters laughed and tried to step on them, as though it were a game. I heard one of them starting to sing “La Cucaracha” as she stomped.

  Bronwyn reached out her foot to step on one, and for a brief second, she looked like her granddaughter, Imogen. I watched as Starr appeared to resemble her older foster daughter for a moment.

  These were certainly no ordinary silverfish. But how did they get out of the shoe box?

  As I looked around the shop, I saw people’s appearances changing as soon as they stepped on the slinky little bugs. One mother in a bright pink sundress took on a glamour of her daughter for a few seconds before changing back into her own likeness once again. The father-daughter couple each looked like the other for a quick moment, before regaining their normal appearances.

  Some guests were laughing, others shrieking, and one young girl started crying.

  I searched the crowd for Patience and Renna, hoping to find a magical ally to lend a hand, but either they were running late or they’d decided against coming altogether.

  “It’s like Freaky Friday!” exclaimed Starr, smiling. “How did you manage this, Lily?”

  “I . . .” What could I say? If I admitted I wasn’t orchestrating the mayhem, it would only frighten everyone further.

  As an enchanted atmosphere took over the store, the antique dresses that had been hanging on the walls ripped free of their pins and started to dance in the air above our heads, like a Halloween haunted house. More people started laughing, oohing and aahing, believing it was all some sort of elaborate trick designed for their entertainment.

  Then an iced cupcake—one of Renee’s—sailed across the room and landed with a plop on Maya’s back, icing side down.

  “Hey!” Maya cried as she turned around, but there was no obvious culprit. Another cupcake, then yet another, flew across the shop.

  Next the silver cutlery crashed to the floor, skittering across the wooden planks as the tea goers inadvertently kicked the forks and spoons. The lamps glinted off the silverware, casting orbs of light on the walls and the ceiling.

  It was bedlam.

  Xander came up to me; then the glamour slipped and he transformed into Wendy before my eyes.

  “What can I do to help?” she asked.

  “Just try to calm folks down,” I said. “These bugs aren’t going to hurt them, and the glamours don’t last. And if it doesn’t weird you out too much,
try to corral these silverfish? They aren’t normal bugs.”

  “Yeah, I got that impression,” Maya said as she joined us. “Come on, Wendy. I’ll help.”

  “Hey, Maya, have you seen Selena?” I asked, searching the milling crowd.

  “Not lately.”

  “She was headed over to Lucille’s Loft for something, last I saw,” said Wendy.

  Panic crept up on me. “Where’s Renee?”

  “I was talking to her earlier,” said Maya. “But then she put out more cupcakes. . . .”

  I pushed my way through the chaos. How could I have been so foolish? I had been so focused on Wind Spirit and her connection to Renee that I utterly failed to make sure Selena was safe.

  “Dude,” said Conrad as he held the door open for me. “You know how to throw a heck of a party. Did someone spike the punch?”

  “Did Selena come out here? Or Renee?”

  “Didn’t see them, but I have to confess I was off duty for a coupla minutes. Nature called.”

  “Where’s Oscar?”

  “I thought he went back in with you. What’s wrong? Hey, where are you going? Want me to come with you?”

  “No, thanks. It’s best if you stay here and watch over things.”

  “Watch for what, exactly?”

  “Just please try to make sure things don’t get out of hand, okay? And if someone who looks like Sailor arrives—”

  “Don’t trust him. I got it, dude.”

  I ran next door to Lucille’s Loft as quickly as I could. The lights were off, and the curtains drawn across the front windows.

  I tried the door; it was unlocked. So I pushed it open very slowly.

  “Hello?” No response. I tried again. “Anyone? Selena?”

  I felt magical vibrations, but they seemed . . . off. It wasn’t Renee. Renee was driven and determined, but she was in control.

  What I felt was entirely different.