Sam's eyes widened. "You put a tracker on me?"
"Of course I did," Mac said cheerfully. "You always do this. Zelda said to tell you both that Elder Thornberry is at her place, humming that creepy melody again and asking for 'the fated pair.'"
Sam and Delilah exchanged a look.
"We're not a pair," they said simultaneously.
Mac just grinned. "Tell that to the magical tracking device that led me straight to both of you."
11
Delilah flipped the tarot card over with shaking fingers. The Tower. Again. The fifth time in a row.
"That's not even statistically possible," she muttered, sweeping the cards into a messy pile.
Crystal Clear Visions looked like a divination bomb had detonated in its center. Every surface overflowed with scattered tools—tarot decks, rune stones, crystal balls of varying sizes, pendulums dangling from makeshift stands, and scrying mirrors reflecting the early morning light in dizzying patterns. The scent of sandalwood and lavender hung thick in the air, nearly overpowering in its intensity.
Jinxie watched from her perch atop a bookshelf, tail twitching with concern. Her mismatched eyes tracked Delilah's increasingly frantic movements.
"I've never been blocked like this before." Delilah pushed her hair back, leaving a smudge of purple chalk on her forehead. "It's like trying to tune a radio during a thunderstorm."
She grabbed a crystal ball and placed it in the center of a chalk circle. "Come on, universe. One clear message. Is that too much to ask? Just once, skip the cryptic fortune cookie routine!"
The crystal remained stubbornly cloudy, swirling with vague shapes that refused to coalesce.
"Fine. Tea leaves it is." She snatched up her favorite divination teacup, dumping the cold remains of her third attempt onto a nearby fern. The poor plant was starting to look distinctly unhappy about its role as tea leaf repository.
The kettle whistled sharply. Delilah poured boiling water over fresh leaves, letting them steep exactly three minutes before draining the cup with practiced precision.
"Show me the artifacts. Show me the silver witch. Show me anything useful!"
She stared into the cup, turning it slowly.
"A wolf? No, that's a bird. Or maybe a cloud?" She squinted harder. "Is that a duck wearing a top hat? Seriously?"
With a growl of frustration, she set the cup down so hard that tea leaves spattered across her crystal ball.
"That's it. I'm bringing out the big guns." She reached under the counter and pulled out a dusty wooden box inlaid with mother-of-pearl. "Great-grandmother's automatic writing pendulum. Never fails."
Jinxie meowed loudly, jumping down to investigate as Delilah suspended the ornate brass pendulum over a sheet of parchment.
"Focus," she whispered, closing her eyes. "Show me what we need to know about the artifacts."
The pendulum swung in lazy circles, then began to move with purpose. Delilah opened one eye.
The pendulum was writing: H-E-L-L-O-D-E-A-R.
"What the?—"
The cabinet behind her creaked open, and Elder Thornberry emerged, dusty and cobweb-covered but beaming with delight.
"Marvelous collection!" he exclaimed, extracting himself from between a stack of reference books and what appeared to be a stuffed raven. "Reminds me of my aunt Gertrude's pantry! Though she collected spoons, not futures. Sometimes the spoons predicted things, but mostly they just stirred tea."
Delilah nearly toppled backward. "How long have you been in there?"
"Time is a ribbon, not a straight line! Could be minutes, could be centuries." He plucked a fortune cookie from his pocket and cracked it open. "Ah! 'Your future is paired with another.' How appropriate!"
"Elder, I don't have time for?—"
