“I’m not sure I understand what my wound has to do with anything. I was under the impression all my prior glitches were because of the damage done to my wand. That’s why every spell I tried to cast went sideways.”
“It wasn’t a bad impression to live under,” Clarabelle mused. “Unfortunately, we were wrong.”
He closed his eyes. “Do you have any new theories on the problem?” During the two and a half months he had taken off before reconvening as Sophie’s bodyguard, he’d been under the care of Clarabelle, who hadresethis magic…so to speak.
And while that was taking place, she had also obtained the address of Zuberi the Enchanter, a wand wizard in Africa. Bravo Baton had been sent to him to fix. The black and gold wand had been blown in half by a bullet, and Clarabelle had been unable to put it back together with her own magic.
“It sounds like when the bullet went through your wand and grazed your finger,” Clarabelle said, “the magic in your wand formed a new conduit through your injury. It’s rare but not unheard of for magic to seek out a new balance in this way. Zuberi and I were under the assumption it still maintained all its magic.”
Stone sighed. “You’re going to have to explain this in layman’s terms.”
“It’s possible that the original magic from your wand now resides inside of you, and it is resonating with Sophie,” Clarabelle said. “Is she by any chance a Magical? Like a fairy?”
“Not that I’m aware of.” Stone glanced inside Sophie’s apartment making sure she hadn’t exited the bathroom. This was not a conversation he wanted her to overhear. “I mean, she’squite fanciful in her approach to life, and would definitely make a much better fairy godmother than the guys and I have, but—”
“Nonsense,” Clarabelle snapped. “Making the three of you fairy godfathers was the best thing I’ve done in this realm. You boys will be great once you’re not so green. Magic takes effort and practice, just like getting all those muscles the lot of you like to flex took time and patience and work.”
Stone’s hand clenched around the phone. He abhorred being green. “If the original magic now resides in me, how is Bravo Baton still able to conjure?”
“The most likely answer is it’s not. You’re the one doing the magic, Bravo is now simply a prop.”
The information tasted sour. “You’re saying I got my wand assassinated?”
“Possibly. Another theory, one I find fascinating and will research, is that Zuberi filled it with new, more powerful, magic.”
Stone recalled the note that had been included in the box holding Bravo Baton when it had been returned to him:
I trust this finds you well. In your hands, you will find your faithful companion rejuvenated and ready for new adventures. May it serve you with the strength of a lion and wisdom of an ancient baobab.
Handle it with care, for it holds the spirit of the savannah and power of the mountains.
The last line now took on a whole other message. One that leaned toward Clarabelle’s second option for his wand. “Let’s get back to my wand’s original magic.”
“I couldn’t agree more aggressively. Let’s stay focused on the current delectable dilemma,” Clarabelle said.
“It is your theory that Bravo Baton’s original magic now lives inside of me,” Stone said, speaking slowly as he wrapped hisbrain around the thought. “And it thinks Sophie and I should…be together?”
“Aren’t you just the cutest thing, being so whimsical?” Clarabelle gave off a soft laugh that sounded exactly like what a Fairy Godmother’s laugh should sound like. Light and happy.
One he and his brothers needed to find a manly version of, so they didn’t initially frighten their new clients upon first meeting. Especially the younger ones. Their last assignment, the one they’d learned about at Sunday night’s dinner—the one Ryder had described as complicated—had been to help a woman survive finding out her best friend had a social media account where all she did was make fun of her. A best friend she was about to give a kidney to.
“I do believe Sophie, and her love of all things romantic, is rubbing off on you,” Clarabelle continued.
“Mom, answer my question, please.”
“Oh. Yes. That,” Clarabelle said. “What was the question again?”
“Do you believe that my magic thinks Sophie and I should be together?” Stone repeated.
“Dear, magic doesn’t think. But it does sense and align with powerful energies. If it reacts around Sophie, it could mean your paths are deeply intertwined.”
He rubbed his temples with his free hand. “Like soul mates?”
“Possibly, but honestly, it is also feasible that the two of you have a nonromantic connection. All the glitching suggests is that it’s a significant bond,” Clarabelle explained. “The nature of that bond is up to the two of you to figure out.”
Relief hit him like a cold blast of winter air. “If it’s up to me, then nope. Nothing to see here. Just two adults thrown together by circumstances.”
“Well, there you have it. You’ve answered your own question.”
