Page 9 of The Blue Moon Café & 24-Hour Occult Emporium

Sara’s eyes gleamed like obsidian. “Let’s focus on something small. Do you remember that peach orchard off the highway?”

Talula nodded, hands already clammy.

“Bring me a peach from that orchard.” Sara’s voice deepened, going into full-sorceress mode. “Tap into your magical core. Feel the energies of the world twist to your desires and reap the fruit of your divine essence!”

“Um, Mom?” Talula said quietly. “Peaches aren’t in season anymore. Could I pluck something else?”

Talula’s mother blinked, her epic demeanor wavering. “A peach…blossom?”

Talula shook her head. Sara’s mouth formed a firm, dissatisfied line. Sara liked things to be appropriately mystical during sorceress training.

Finally, she snapped her fingers excitedly. “A twig! To symbolize your burgeoning powers.”

(Ouch, Talula thought.)

“Pluck me a twig from a peach tree.” Sara swept to the side, giving Talula a full view of the Volta. “It can be the talisman from which your abilities bloom!”

Then it was just the Volta and Talula.

Talula stepped toward the portal, heart ricocheting in her chest. As she reached for the Volta with her magic, cascades of power tumbled over her. Magic electrified her nerves, tugging at her hair like an excited toddler. The Volta’s magic was wild, playful, reckless, and endless. It swamped her with waves of power and mischievous little vibrations that seemed to say, Where have you been? I’ve missed you!

Talula loved the Volta like she loved the ocean. With awe, wonder, and a healthy dose of fear.

She gave the Volta a shaky smile. She imagined the orchard, putting her will behind it. The dusty smell of the gravel road that led to the farm. The rows of trees and splayed branches, heavy with bright fruit. A strange hum buzzed over Talula’s skin. The glowing blue archway began to swirl with power.

Watching the Volta change locations was like watching a blue-tinged television screen while someone was flipping through channels at the speed of magic. Images blurred and bustled, smeared by a blue membrane that separated (and concealed) the sorceress from what was on the other side of the portal. Talula felt a heave of motion sickness, but it was working, it was actually working!

Finally, the images stilled. Through the strange magical blue veil, Talula saw the orchard, the leaves beginning to blush with autumn. Talula pumped a fist triumphantly. Behind her, Sara shouted encouragement.

Grinning, Talula guided the Volta through the trees, unseen by workers, songbirds, and the occasional gopher. Through her magical connection with the Volta, Talula opened a window into the world. She reached through it triumphantly, stretching toward a nearby branch. Even though she was thrilled, she couldn’t help but think of the orchard in summer. Distractedly, she wished she could go back in time and pluck a sun-warmed peach right from the branch.

Before Talula could snag a twig, the world around her quivered. Power heaved and rolled as the Volta began to travel. Talula wasn’t in the orchard anymore. Panic took over Talula’s brain—she fought to regain command of herself, her magic, and the Volta.

Go back! GO BACK.

(“You can do it, sweetie!” her mother called cheerily, still sticking to her “sink or swim” magical training approach.)

But distraction had led to a lapse in control. As Talula struggled, the Volta continued to propel her through a sickening rush of places. Finally, she forced herself to breathe. The images slowed. She saw trees again. They looked a little different, sure, and there weren’t as many of them in the wide expanse of prairie the Volta had arrived in. But trees were trees, right?

I must have gotten thrown off course, Talula reasoned. But where am I?

The scene surrounding her started to tremble. The Volta was getting ready to jump again. Pulse skyrocketing, Talula reached for the nearest tree, but it was too far. Talula expanded the Volta’s window into a door to give her more room. She blindly grabbed for a twig and tore it with so much force, she stumbled backward away from the portal. The image of the prairie dissolved in the Volta’s archway as Talula gasped for air.

“Honey!” Sara cried. “Are you okay?”

“I brought”—Talula gasped, holding up her prize with a sweaty grin—“the twig.”

“You brought a little more than that.” Bemusedly, Sara gestured at Talula’s feet.

Talula looked around and yelped with alarm.

Dozens of rabbits blinked up at Talula with black, accusing eyes. They were tawny and wild-looking, with black tufted tails and strong legs. Some had the strangest ears Talula had ever seen.

Wait. She blinked. Are those antlers?

One glaring rabbit lowered its head and charged. Pain blossomed on Talula’s shin.

“Ow!” Talula toppled backward, landing hard on her tailbone. The rabbits scattered in an angry halo around her. The aggressive one squinted menacingly from a few feet away.