“Yes, please, we’ll need help. I’m more than happy to provide breakfast and lunch for anyone who puts in a couple of hours.”
“You’re on, dude,” Conrad said.
Tomorrow we intended to virtually empty Aunt Cora’s Closet to make room for the Magical Match Tea. Hard to believe we were going through with the event with Sailor still behind bars and an unsolved murder on my plate, but canceling it wouldn’t achieve anything more than frustrating our friends and disappointing the Haight Street shelter, which needed the funds to help women facing much more difficult lives than mine.
Besides, Renee had promised—or threatened—to show up to the tea. I had no idea what to expect from that, but I certainly wanted to be here when she did.
I couldn’t put an impenetrable protection spell over the store, or it would keep out all our visitors. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t take precautions. I would have to brew. And... possibly approach Aidan, one more time. Surely there was something—or someone—else I could appease him with? What about Jamie? Hewantedto work for Aidan.
Conrad followed me inside Aunt Cora’s Closet. Bronwyn was consulting with a customer, her wildflower-crowned head bent low as she concocted a custom tea blend at her herb stand. Duke sat on a velvet bench near the dressing rooms, reading a thick novel. Maya was straightening several brightly colored prom dresses, circa 1980, while half a dozen customers roamed the crowded aisles.
After trading greetings and making sure everyone was still on for our big move tomorrow, I asked Maya: “Did you get any hits on that drawing?”
“Unfortunately, there wasn’t anything that matched one hundred percent.” She called a file up on the computer. “But you said to keep in mind that it might not be complete, so these are some of the signs that looked similar.”
I studied the computer screen, which showed thumbnails of several signs that did seem similar, though none was exact.
“What do they mean?” I asked.
“Depends on which one you’re referring to. They’re all over the map. This one’s an ancient Hebrew sign for water; this one’s a petroglyph. This one here”—she clicked on the thumbnail to make the picture larger—“is from the Da Pinchi Code that Conrad mentioned, and it actually looks pretty close. But the interesting thing is that it seems to be based on a much older sign. I’m still trying to track down its origins, though.”
“Thanks so much for looking.”
“You’re welcome. It’s sort of fun, like a treasure hunt.”
I smiled. “I never think of anything computer-related as ‘fun,’ but I’m gladyoudo. Hey, could you look up something else for me while you’re on the Internet? I think it’s Latin, and it’s probably an ingredient for baked goods, or a sweetener of some kind.Lepisma saccharina.”
“Spell it for me?”
“I’m not completely sure, butL-e—”
“Dude, what kind of baked goods are you eating?” interrupted Conrad, who had been playing with a heap of colorful Mardi Gras beads.
“What do you mean?”
“That means silverfish.”
“Silverfish?” I asked. “As in, the bug?”
He nodded. “Lepisma saccharinais the Latin name for silverfish.”
“I didn’t know you knew Latin,” Maya said.
“I don’t. I knowbugs, dude.”
“So then it’s not an ingredient for baked goods,” said Maya, looking it up online. “At least, I sincerely hope not. Yep, the Con’s right, as usual:Lepisma saccharina, commonly known as ‘silverfish.’”
So Jamie had been asking around the Russian psychics for silverfish? That made no sense at all, of course, but there had to be a connection to the bugs in the shoe box.
I felt lost. Whom could I talk to about this? I glanced at the map: The grandmas were in Sacramento. If they were completing this same sign, and it looked like they were, they’d be headed somewhere north next: maybe to Napa for a little wine tasting. Aidan wasn’t going to be much help if he kept demanding I turn over Oscar or Sailor; I would save him as a last resort. But there was another wise woman out there, someone I had, perhaps, underestimated.
I knew Calypso Cafaro had a magical way with plants, but according to Aidan, she was more than that. She “used to be” a witch. In my book, once a witch, always a witch.
What’s more, she also used to be in charge of the Bay Area’s magical community. She had had Aidan’s job.
Determined to speak with her, I asked Maya and Bronwyn to stay and close up shop, and made sure Conrad and Duke would keep them company. Then I ran upstairs and managed to corral one of the silverfish from the box into a jar, rewrapped the shoe box in rowan, and returned it to its place on the shelf. Next I jumped in my car, stopped by the wax museum to pick up my pig, then headed north across the Golden Gate Bridge.
“I take it you’re feeling better?” I asked my familiar in greeting.
