Page 22 of The Blue Moon Café & 24-Hour Occult Emporium

She turned to the dog. “Simon! Did you see that? I did it!”

Simon just stared at her, unmoved.

Well, he’s hard to impress.

Talula refocused on the strange trunk. Gripping the lock with both hands, Talula let witchfire lap over the metal. In her palms, the lock softened into a coppery clay, melting away from the latch.

Then, the trunk lid flew open.

Talula sprang back. She braced herself, expecting an evil curse, a plague of spiders, or a poltergeist to emerge from the trunk.

Instead, a person tumbled out.

They were dressed in simple black pants, a loose black sweater, and a long necklace. A golden headscarf was wound elegantly around their head with one end loosely thrown over their shoulder. Pale amber irises gleamed from deep-set eyes. The person stretched out like a cat on the floor, groaning with relief. “Bidukh’s tits! That was cramped.”

“Are you okay?” Talula rushed over to the new arrival, witchfire fading back into her skin.

“I’d be infinitely better with a cup of tea.” Delicately, they stood up, shifting from hip to hip, hands braced on their back.

Talula stared dumbly at her new guest. “Are you my new magic teacher?”

They cocked their head at her. “I’m a traveler. What is it I’m supposed to say? One caramel macchiato, four shots of espresso, with two decaf, two caf, and the raspberry syrup. No whip. But I insist on tea. Earl Grey, if you please.”

“Of course.” Talula gestured for the newcomer to sit.

“Thank you, darling.” Their eyes traced along Talula’s face before they draped themself elegantly into the couch. “You must be Sahar’s girl. Tahlia?”

“Talula. Mom goes by Sara now.” As Talula turned on the kettle, she noticed Simon sit up ramrod straight, his black eyes fixed on the newcomer.

“Saaah-raaaah…” Talula’s guest sounded out the vowels with all the refinement of a sommelier savoring a fine wine. “Your mother is a woman of many names. But singular power. You may call me Kiki.”

“Hello, Kiki.” Talula put on her customer-service smile. “You’re safe here. I have a higher class of tea in the back. If you’ll excuse me?”

“For good tea I’d do almost anything, daughter of Sahar-now-Sara,” Kiki purred. They twirled a finger around the long, delicate chain of their necklace. It held a simple gold ring. The metal was a bit tarnished, but it looked heavy, somehow.

Talula resisted the urge to curtsy and darted away. She popped into the Voltlette for tea (and a few other things) before returning to her usual place behind the counter. Talula’s mind puzzled at the circumstances of the guest’s arrival—the magical lock, the allusions to her mother. Kiki’s mysteriousness had the crooked-finger curl of a challenge.

Kiki tilted their head at Simon. “Who’s this?”

“He’s just someone who needs a place to be for a while.” Talula glanced over at the dog. His tan-and-white ears were pricked toward Kiki vigilantly. “I call him Simon. How long have you known Mom?”

“Almost as long as there’s been fire, my dear.” Kiki tucked their legs under themself. “She was my student for a little while, then my favorite co-conspirator. We’ve had a great deal of fun.”

“I can only imagine.” Talula laughed as she artfully arranged a honeycomb, freshly cut lemon wedges, rock candy chunks, spoons, and a few saucers on a tray with her mom’s collection of thin glass teacups. Everything on the platter had a shine to it—the glint of a juicy lemon wedge, the slow-moving gold of honey, even the silvery gleam of the teaspoons.

“Noosh-eh joon,” Talula said, with a slight bow of her head, as she served the tea.

“Khasteh nahbahshee.” Kiki gave the traditional response elegantly. They leaned forward, breathing in the tea’s aroma. “Maymunah’s drunk uncle, is there anything sweeter than the first cup of tea after a long journey?” A smile bloomed across their bronze face. The space around Kiki’s skin seemed to shimmer, like air over hot asphalt. Their eyes brightened as they brought the mug closer to their lips, irises like ruddy burning gems. Like fire without smoke. A realization chilled Talula down to the marrow.

Suddenly it all made sense. The strange shimmering heat over Kiki’s skin. Their eyes. Talula swallowed, her heart pounding frightfully in her chest. “Pardon me, but do I have the honor of addressing a jinn?”

“A tea-loving jinn,” Kiki corrected with a Cheshire cat smile. They popped a bit of rock candy into their mouth, tucking it into the pouch of their cheek. “Polite and clever. Sara-formerly-Sahar has done well with you. Sit. Drink. Let’s chat.”

It was not a request.

To risk offending a powerful jinn was to risk death (or an extremely creative hex), and Kiki emanated power like a meteor.

“It’d be my pleasure.” Talula sat down tentatively on the couch next to Kiki. She took a deep breath and decided to be honest rather than disappoint them (and risk the consequences). Shame-faced, Talula spoke. “Kiki, I know you’re here for safe haven. But I haven’t figured out the Volta, not like my mother has. The Council is sending someone to help me, but they’re not here yet. You can stay as long as you want until they get here.” Talula hung her head a little. “I’m sorry I’m not good enough to help you.”