Page 87 of The Blue Moon Café & 24-Hour Occult Emporium

“What about Samhain? Won’t everyone who comes to the festival be sitting ducks?”

“No one is going to find us. The entire city of Pine Hollow is shielded from any kind of malicious or seeking magic,” Sara assured Talula. “In fact, I ran into some wildlings during my travels. They’re taking the forest to the café and should be on their way over to you. Keep an eye out for them tomorrow morning? I reminded them to change to their human shapes for safety, but they’re not always very good at it. Talula, you remember.”

Talula hid a smirk. A wildling had come to the café once looking for refuge. He had knocked on the café door completely naked and had forgotten to transform his tufted bobcat ears, which were very cute if a little conspicuous.

“Yes, the Council alerted me to their arrival.” Simon nodded. “But Sara, will you be back in time to speak for the Blue Moon at this town hall nonsense? Just in case we need a little extra magical swaying?”

Talula’s mom laughed. “I’m looking forward to it! I could use a little small-town drama to cheer me up.”

The muscles in Talula’s shoulders loosened. Though she hoped they wouldn’t need Sara’s magical influence, Talula felt a little better knowing Samhain would ultimately be okay and her mother would be returning soon. “I’m glad you’re coming home, Mom. Even if it’s just for a little while.”

“Me, too, my darling girl.” Sara’s transparent hands wistfully skimmed over her daughter’s hair. She sighed. “I’d better go. Keep working through that spellbook, sweetheart.”

“Technically, it’s a cookbook.” Simon’s eyes roved disapprovingly over the cover.

“I love you.” Sara blew a kiss to her daughter.

“Love you too, Mom. Be safe.”

With that, Sara disappeared, leaving Talula alone with an extremely irate Simon.

He turned to Talula, fur poofed out with rage. “I can’t believe you hid the details of this cookbook from me!”

“I’m sorry for lying, but can you blame me?” Talula sat down on the floor, level with Simon. “I finally found a way to make magic make sense to me. I didn’t want to give it up just because it wasn’t a part of your curriculum.”

“If any other jinn had written that book, your insides might be a bunch of ferrets right now,” Simon growled. Then, to Talula’s surprise, he let out a resigned sigh. “But I can’t deny the results. It looks as though I’ve failed as a teacher again—”

Simon’s jaws clamped shut.

But Talula’s curiosity was piqued. “What do you mean again?”

“Nothing!” Inch by inch, Simon started to back away from Talula. He resembled a fluffy potato in retreat.

Talula crossed her arms. “Tell me what you meant, or I’ll never make you another steak, ever again.”

Simon’s eyes widened. “But I love steak!”

Talula just glared.

“Alright, fine.” Simon sat down with a groan. “I had another student. They called her an enchantress back then. She was wilder, more attuned to natural forces of magic. I offered to teach her, and she seemed eager to expand her knowledge. But she struggled with my methods. I used to think she was too stubborn to learn proper sorcery. But now…after my time here with you…”

“Go on.”

Simon made a strangled noise of embarrassment. “I realize now she was a grown woman who’d mastered her own craft, and I treated her like a petulant child. I don’t blame her for killing me.”

“She killed you?” Talula yelped.

“Don’t worry, it didn’t stick,” Simon assured the horrified Talula. “But the Council knew I’d botched my responsibilities as a mentor.”

In Talula’s mind, something clicked. “Did you come back to teach me as a kind of cosmic do-over?”

“That’s one way of putting it. The Council saw your sorcery education as an opportunity for redemption. I took it.” Simon looked away. “Yet I made the same mistakes and wound up a worse mentor than a raggedy old recipe book cooked up by a deranged jinn.”

Simon lay down in a defeated pile, heaving out a deep, disappointed-in-himself breath. Talula chewed her bottom lip. The sorcerer before her didn’t seem anything like the imperious wizard Simon had described. Maybe when he’d first arrived at Pine Hollow, but now Simon was going more off-book every day.

Talula cleared her throat. “If you ask me, a good mentor is supportive and tries to see the whole picture of a student.”

“Then I’m definitely not a good mentor.” Simon sulked.