Page 10 of The Blue Moon Café & 24-Hour Occult Emporium

“Jackalopes?” Talula sputtered, too stunned to be offended by the antlered rodent.

“Jackalopes!” Sara clapped her hands delightedly. “I haven’t seen these in years. What were they doing in the orchard?”

“I wound up in the wrong orchard.” Talula’s face grew hot with embarrassment. “But I was in the right one for a little while!”

“Darling, that’s wonderful.” Sara knelt near a cluster of jackalopes and conjured a carrot from nothing. The jackalopes flocked to her immediately. “But we should put them back where you found them.”

“How? I don’t know where I was last.” Talula tried to get to her feet, but the angry jackalope threw her a dirty look that clearly said, Don’t even try it.

“Not to worry,” Sara said airily. She glided to the Volta. Rodents hopped in her wake like a fluffy, antlered train. She threw out a hand to the portal and called out a word that reverberated with power.

The Volta grumbled but didn’t stir.

“Hmm.” Sara glanced over at Talula. “Would you come here, my love? I may need your memory of the orchard for this to work.”

“Sure, but…” Talula pointed at the angry rodent near her. “He might impale me if I move.”

Sara put her hands on her hips and tsked. She reached over and seized the jackalope by the antlers.

Talula got up. “Why do some have antlers and others don’t?”

“Females have antlers,” Sara explained, as the jackalope in her hand kicked at the air wildly. “Males of this species have to be very hard-headed.”

Sara held Talula’s shoulder with her free hand. She cried out the spell again. Power sparked through Talula like an electrical current. Immediately, the Volta lurched, showing the prairie where Talula had found her twig (among other things). When the image stilled completely, Sara cried out another word, and the Volta shimmered.

“I’ve returned the Volta to its last location. I also thinned the veil a bit on our side,” Sara said.

“Why?”

Sara reeled back, swung her arm like a pro pitcher, and flung the jackalope through the portal. The veil made a faint popping sound as the jackalope flew through and landed on the other side. She was still for a moment but jumped to her paws after a few seconds. The jackalope tossed her head, glared, and charged at the portal, but her antlers didn’t puncture the veil.

Satisfied, Sara dusted off her hands. “Thin enough for us to throw them in, thick enough to keep them out!”

“Does it hurt them?”

“They’re pretty sturdy.” Sara swiftly grasped another set of antlers. She reeled back, swung, and threw. Another jackalope popped through the portal to join her angry sister.

Usually, Sara’s sorcery was elegant, subtle, and clever. But sometimes, Talula thought, you’ve just got to chuck some jackalopes.

“So efficient!” Talula erupted into laughter.

“And oddly satisfying!” Sara grinned.

The jackalopes gave them offended looks.

In one of their weirdest mother-daughter bonding activities ever, Talula and Sara continued catching and chucking jackalopes. Abruptly, Sara stopped mid-toss, her eyes glazed over. Talula knew that look—it was the someone is talking in my head magically right now look.

When her eyes had cleared, Sara finished her jackalope toss with a worried frown. “That was a summons from the Council.”

“Is it about Samhain?” Talula wrangled a particularly twitchy rodent. “It’s only a month away.”

Every Halloween, Sara opened the Volta to any and all magical creatures. It was done under the cover of a pagan festival known as Samhain (the holiday Halloween descends from). The event was funded by the Council, the same powerful and ancient order of magical beings that had established the Blue Moon’s secret operations. Sara, of course, was a founding member.

Samhain provided the perfect cover for magical folk to hide in plain sight amongst the costumed festival-goers. They’d grab a corn dog, wait for their Volta time slot, then pop through the portal to visit far-flung family and friends. At the stroke of midnight, the Volta and Sara’s magic would usher everyone back home. To the magical community, it was a day to reunite with loved ones. But to the rest of the county, it was Pine Hollow’s eclectic fall-slash-Halloween festival. Talula and Sara had spent years making sure it was awesome. There were carnival rides, food trucks, acrobats, fire-eaters, fortune-tellers, face painters, and reenactments of ancient autumn rituals from a dozen or so cultures. Talula managed the festival from the café while Sara handled the portal—it was always a ton of frenzied fun.

“This isn’t about Samhain.” Sara pursed her lips. “But I need to go home and astral project myself to the meeting. Can you finish up?”

“Sure thing.”