Page 88 of The Blue Moon Café & 24-Hour Occult Emporium

“Maybe not at first, but would your former self convince his student to go to the farmers’ market when she was feeling down? Or say nice things about her cooking? Or give advice about love and friendship?”

He mulled it over. “No. I suppose not.”

“See?” Talula tapped Simon on the top of his golden-brown head. “That’s what do-overs are for. Figuring out how to do things differently the second time around.”

A small smile began to curl over Simon’s lips. “I suppose so.”

“I know so.” Talula ruffled his ears.

“You must have an excellent teacher,” Simon replied dryly.

“I haven’t killed him yet.” Talula got to her feet. “Now, come on, we have a Magic Box to open up and a Samhain to save.”

22

People started crowding the town square in front of the Magic Box as early as four in the afternoon.

“I count fifty-four heads. Not including pets,” Dahlia’s voice buzzed in Talula’s earbuds.

“We were hoping for more,” Talula murmured back anxiously.

“It’s still early. Trust me.”

Above them, the clouds changed into a smear of molten hues. Slowly, night crept in as more attendees found their spots on the grass. When the sky had gone nearly black, lights flickered on in the Magic Box.

Simon bumped his hip into Talula’s calf. “Here we go!”

Talula grinned, heart jumpy with nerves and excitement. “Let’s make some magic.”

The crowd hushed as the box’s velvet curtains drew back, revealing a stage. Fifteen figures and strange shapes stood upon it, veiled in shadow. Another beat went by, the audience holding its collective breath. One voice sang out into the night.

“Though I’ve tried before to tell her

Of the feelings I have for her in my heart…”

As the last word was sung, a light show blazed onstage, and music exploded into the night. A brass band, fifteen strong, all in Halloween costumes, blasted into “Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic.” The singer worked the stage with the star power of a Vegas headliner, coaxing the audience into dancing. As the last note of the song fell, the band ripped right into another tune, working their way through hits like “Superstition,” “Abracadabra,” and “Witchcraft.”

The brassy covers of these magical hits brought almost every audience member to their feet. Couples danced, kids bounced, and even the farthest, most sidelined audience members bopped along with delighted smiles. Dahlia spun through the crowd and took pictures of everything, occasionally howling along with the lyrics. Even Talula swayed with the music, eyes stuck on Dahlia’s shifting hips.

Needing a distraction, Talula glanced down at Simon and chuckled—her mentor was bobbing his head in time to the music.

The band played for an hour, finishing off with “Do You Believe in Magic” and a standing ovation. When the curtains closed, a banner dropped from the top of the Magic Box.

SEE YOU TOMORROW FOR MORE MAGIC

Then, another banner unfurled below it—Talula held her breath.

SEVEN NIGHTS UNTIL SAMHAIN

The crowd began to pack up and head out for the night. Talula overheard passersby making plans, promising to bring more blankets or chairs, hypothesizing what the next act would be, their voices alight with the promise of tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow.

“That certainly was its own kind of magic, wasn’t it?” Simon said.

“It really was.” Talula felt aglow with pride. “I just hope it works.”

Now that the Magic Box performance and magical happenings around town were clearly connected to Samhain and the Blue Moon, there was no telling what tomorrow’s performance would bring. But just as Talula began to worry, warm arms wound around her waist.

“That was amazing!” Dahlia screamed, lifting Talula off her feet. Talula was taller than Dahlia, so the movement was really an enthusiastic jostling.