A crash from the corner interrupted Fabio's artistic outrage. Fat Bastard, Boba Fett, and Jango Fett had somehow managed to topple an elaborate tower of floating cupcakes, creating a rainbow-colored avalanche of frosting. The cats scrambled away from the disaster, trailing what looked suspiciously like Fabio's silk scarves.
"My Versace!" Fabio shrieked, abandoning them to rush toward the feline thieves.
Zelda intercepted her familiars, who were now attempting to look innocent despite being covered in both frosting and evidence. "You three are worse than toddlers with sticky fingers!"
Delilah leaned against Sam, surprising herself with how natural it felt. "Did you know about Fabio's clues?"
"Not a clue," he admitted, slipping an arm around her waist. "Though it explains why he kept insisting I feel the 'emotional journey of the left fin.'"
As they watched Fabio salvage his designer accessories, Delilah noticed several townspeople humming the same melody Elder Thornberry always did. The tune seemed to spread through the crowd like a contagious yawn.
Near the front window, a new poster caught her eye—"The Collector's Symphony – Part Two" in elaborate lettering beneath an image of paired magical creatures.
"Did Fabio mention a sequel?" she asked, pointing.
Sam frowned. "That wasn't there when we came in."
As if summoned by their attention, Fabio returned, still clutching rescued scarves. His eyes followed their gaze to the poster, confusion crossing his face.
"That's not my design," he said slowly. "I don't remember changing it."
The bakery door jingled as Delilah stepped outside, grateful for the cool evening air after the packed celebration inside. The sunset painted Assjacket in shades of amber and gold, transforming even the most ordinary buildings into something magical.
Sam followed her out, his neon green hair practically glowing in the fading light. The magical backlash had affected everyone differently—Mayor Grimble's hat had started reciting poetry, Vic's fangs temporarily turned into candy corn, and they'd all ended up with hair that would make a punk rocker jealous.
"I forgot how loud Fabio's parties get," Sam said, leaning against the railing beside her. His shoulder brushed against hers, sending a small current of warmth through her body.
"Especially when he's the hero of his own story." Delilah smiled, tucking a strand of radioactive green hair behind her ear. "Though I have to admit, the pastry air force was pretty impressive."
They fell into comfortable silence, watching the sun sink lower. Inside, the celebration continued at full volume, but out here, it was just them and the evening breeze.
Sam cleared his throat. "Your shop reopens tomorrow?"
"Back to finding lost keys and predicting kidney stones." She laughed softly. "Though after all this, a normal day of fortune-telling sounds pretty good."
"About that..." Sam shifted his weight, suddenly looking as uncomfortable as he had in the shark costume. "I was thinking. Maybe dinner? No visions, no missions, just us." His yellow eyes met hers, uncertainty flickering across his face. "Unless you're sick of me after all this."
Delilah felt her heart skip several beats. "I survived you as a grumpy wolf and an even grumpier puppy. I think I can handle dinner."
The tension in his shoulders eased, and the smile that spread across his face made her breath catch. It transformed his usually serious expression into something that made her want to kiss him again, preferably without magical explosions this time.
"The river flows both ways when the moon dances with the stars!" Elder Thornberry materialized beside them, appearing from seemingly nowhere as usual. He winked conspiratorially, his wispy white beard catching the last rays of sunlight. "Remember, timing is everything, especially when it's nothing!"
He took a dramatic step backward, tripped over his own feet, and would have tumbled down the bakery steps if Mac hadn't appeared to catch him.
"I got you, Elder," Mac said, steadying the ancient man with practiced ease. Over Elder Thornberry's head, he shot Sam a thumbs-up and a grin that made Delilah suspect there had been some behind-the-scenes conversations she wasn't privy to.
"Meant to do that," Elder insisted. "Gravity is merely a suggestion after your first century!"
As Mac escorted Elder Thornberry back inside, Delilah noticed movement across the street. A figure stood in the shadows between buildings, watching them. For a moment, she thought she saw its face shift and change, like a mask being adjusted, before it melted into the darkness.
"Did you see that?" she asked, reaching for Sam's hand.
He nodded, suddenly alert. "Another shadow creature?"
"I don't think so. It felt... different. Older."
Sam's fingers intertwined with hers, warm and solid. "Whatever it is, we'll figure it out. Together."
