Page 90 of The Blue Moon Café & 24-Hour Occult Emporium

They walked on in silence. But after a minute or two, Talula could have sworn she heard a jaunty hum coming from the magical being trotting by her ankle. It may or may not have been “Love Potion Number Nine.”

23

It was still dark the morning after the Magic Box’s first performance when an impatient four-legged wizard scratched at Talula’s door.

“Breakfast, quickly! We have to meet the wildlings.”

Oh, right. With the Magic Box premiere, Damien, and her cookbook confessions, Talula had forgotten about the magical beings her mother had told them to expect at the café. “Calm down! Mom said they’re taking the forest path. That could take a while.”

The forest route was the long way to the café. Rolling hills and state parks sprawled between Pine Hollow and the nearby cities for several miles, limiting the ways into town (which was ideal for keeping the Blue Moon operations under wraps). While most refuge-seekers took the few paved roads into Pine Hollow, some felt safer going through the woods, especially if they didn’t pass as human.

“Yes, but wildlings are notorious for being early birds. Sometimes literally. Hurry!”

But when Simon and Talula arrived at the café, the wildlings weren’t there. While they waited for the wildlings, Talula started working on her next cookbook translation. Simon paced, huffed, and kept his head on a swivel to the café door. With each lap around the coffee shop, Talula went from slightly amused to concerned. “They should be here by now, shouldn’t they?”

“Yes,” he growled. “They’re late, and I don’t like it.”

“Could they have gotten lost?”

Simon shook out his fur. “It’s a possibility.” But he didn’t look convinced. An hour and several check-ins with the Council later, neither was Talula.

“According to the Council, the wildlings had checked in yesterday to say they were within county lines. Now they’ve vanished and the Council has called its seers to look for them.” Simon growled. “Something is badly amiss. We must check the wards around the town. Immediately.”

“Check them for what?” Talula grabbed her coat.

“If we’re lucky, the wildlings. If not, weakness in the ward line, or worse, tampering.” Simon moved as fast as his short legs would take him. “Come, we’ll take the Volta.”

Talula followed, matching his anxious pace.

Pine Hollow was protected by a complex warding spell rooted in the land itself. It created a protective dome over the town, so that any magical activity that took place within the ward line was hidden from any who wished to seek it. The protection was drawn along the town limits, creating an invisible barrier. Talula had walked that ward line with her mother hundreds of times, strolling through sparse cul-de-sacs and rich woodland as Sara checked on the enchantment. But never had she done it trying to look for lost refuge-seekers.

The Volta had dropped them in a copse of oak trees far off from the nearest hiking trails. Talula sent a mental thanks as the blue portal faded into air and magical miasma. Simon got straight to business.

“Hopefully we’ll find some sign of the wildlings. But if not, we should look for damage to the ward line.”

“What does damage look like?”

“Places where the color in the barrier is faint, or, if someone’s tampered with the enchantment, possibly discolored.”

Talula looked around. “I can’t see the barrier.”

Simon gave an agonized groan. “You haven’t opened your fifth eye yet?”

Talula pointed at her hazel irises. “These are all I’ve got.”

“Yet another inadequacy in your magical education.” Simon sighed. “The third eye is for seeing the future, the fourth is for seeing ghosts, the fifth for seeing enchantments, the sixth is for seeing smells—”

“Can we focus on just seeing what I need to see right now?” Talula cut him off with a pained smile.

Simon rolled his eyes, then barked a strange word that made the oak leaves shiver. Suddenly, Talula could see it. Like a blue-tinged aurora borealis shimmering and rising from the earth, reaching up and up and up. She reached out a hand to touch the ward and felt familiar warmth. The Volta’s power sung through the barrier enchantment and against Talula’s skin.

“Onward, young pupil,” Simon called, strutting along the magical barrier with his nose in the air.

It was still early in the morning; dew clung to the grasses, mist to the trees. Talula shivered. But as they walked, she warmed up quickly, the sun burning off October’s chill. According to Simon’s magical eyes and canine nose, there hadn’t been a hint of any magical malfeasance to the barrier. Nor had there been any sign of the wildlings. Simon and Talula caught their breath at an outcropping of sandstone looking over more quiet wilderness. Confusion and panic hooked into Talula’s chest. “Simon, does this mean the trophy hunters are here?”

Simon shook his head. “I refuse to believe that. These ward spells are as powerful as the first day they were wrought. Whatever tricks those fiends have up their sleeves, not a drop of magic can be detected within city limits.”

“But the wildlings weren’t in city limits,” Talula reminded him. “The hunters may not be in Pine Hollow, but they might be close.”