Chapter 22 Ain’t That a Kick in the Head

Scarlett headed back toward the inn, lugging the ancient magical text and about a hundred pounds of guilt and regret about a hundred different things.

Magic is in chaos because of me. The town's iconic bookstore is a smoking ruin because of me. The EMS team is about to collapse from overwork because of me. Nate is mad because of me. It seems as though Violet might be upset because of me, too? Scarlett wasn't sure whether to take the hit on that last one or not.

Passing Hexpresso Yourself, Scarlett was surprised to see the lights still on. On the chalkboard outside was the jaunty announcement: QUIZ NIGHT! SHOW OFF YOUR MAD TRIVIA SKILLZ! Despite the hour, the coffee shop was still busy—eight or so customers enjoying their cappuccinos and biscotti, electronica remixes of bossa nova classics on the stereo.

It's so late, Scarlett mused. I hope they serve decaf . . .

And also, Does anyone truly enjoy biscotti?

She moved on, returning her thoughts to self-reproach, when something struck her as odd. She turned around and returned to the coffee shop window.

Top hats.

All the customers wore top hats—both the men and the women—and some also wore flowing black capes. A few patrons clustered around the counter, their top hats bobbing in animated conversation. Another patron sat at a table, surrounded by several onlookers, brandishing a deck of cards with practiced ease.

Hexpresso Yourself is a magician hangout . . . she realized. But how can Oak Haven have enough magicians to warrant a magician hangout? And they all love a quiz night? What the hell is going on?

She stared at the coffee shop for a long moment, debating whether or not to go in and investigate. But the exhausted side of Scarlett quickly won out over her curious side. I'll leave those weirdos to their trivia night , she thought. The Myrmex Arcana is more important . . . for now, anyway.

***

Well past midnight, the lobby of the Stargazer Inn was a dim but inviting sanctuary, a fire still crackling in the old fireplace. Delilah sat hunched over the reception desk, the firelight accentuating the worry lines on her brow. A map of Oak Haven lay sprawled before her, dotted with notes in her neat hand, dutifully recording every reported magical incident in town. Beside her, Luna paced back and forth, deep in thought and humming a Gilbert and Sullivan tune.

As the door creaked open, a gust of chilly October air swirled into the room. Scarlett stepped inside and headed immediately for an overstuffed armchair by the hearth. She stretched her tired limbs and let the woodsmoke wash over her. The smell was more innocent, somehow, than the burning-book stench that was still in every pore.

"Nice of you to finally show up!" Delilah snapped. "Where have you been all night?"

"I've been a busy little bee." She held out the heavy reference book. "Got you this."

Luna drifted closer, tilting her head curiously like a bird sizing up a worm. "What is this, exactly?"

" Myrmex Arcana . Supposedly, if any book has information on the dragonflies, it will be this one. Trouble is . . . I have no idea what language it's in, or if that even is a language at all." She held it out for Luna. "What do you say, Einstein? Can you make anything of this?"

Luna plunked down on the floor and flipped through, her face lighting up like a child at her first Christmas. "Wowwowwow . . . Multiple hortikinetic languages here . . . Oh, and I think this bitis Sumerian cuneiform . . . And this might be . . . Enochian? Maybe? This is . . . just . . . wow."

"Is that a yes? Translation-wise?"

"Not off the top of my head, that's for sure. I can work on it, though."

"Let me get this straight, Scarlett," Delilah said. "It took you all night to track down what amounts to a major research project for someone else to complete . Do I understand correctly?"

"Oh, will you relax? I've been all over town tonight. I attended the town meeting on your behalf— you're welcome . Then I had some tea-flavored whiskey with Aphra. She's the one who suggested the book. Then I went to Spellbound to acquire said book, and then I got attacked by an enchanted giant squid, but don't worry because the Three Musketeers and Captain Quint from Jaws were on the case, and then there was the small matter of a raging fire in the bookstore, which was not my fault no matter what you may hear in the coming days, and then I almost had sex with Nate in, ironically, the DIY section, and then—"

"Stop." Luna tossed the priceless book onto the rug. "You what?"

Delilah leaned forward, her usual sternness melting away. "Yeah, I'm going to need to hear more."

"Alas . . ." Scarlett felt a rush of heat to her cheeks, a mix of leftover adrenaline and embarrassment. "There is no more. It almost happened, but it didn't, because Polly walked in—which was unforgettably horrible—and anyway, it's never going to happen again because afterward, I acted like a complete moron and as usual I said exactly the wrong thing and now Nate's furious and I've ruined everything. It's all over; that's the story, the end."

"Scar . . ." Luna rose up on her knees and took Scarlett's hands in hers. "I'm sure you didn't ruin it."

"Oh, of course she did," Delilah practically shouted. "This is Scarlett we're talking about."

Scarlett reluctantly met Luna's inquisitive stare. They gazed into each other's eyes, and Luna seemed to read every humiliating detail of Scarlett's evening.

After a long silence, Luna said, very gently and with great love, "You really fucked it up, didn't you?"

"Oh yeah." Scarlett nodded. "Really badly."

The sisters chuckled, which turned to laughter and then to a helpless hysterical giggling.

"I'm such an idiot." Scarlett wiped tears of laughter from her eyes.

Luna had to do the same. "You really are . . ."

Over at the desk, Del could only shake her head—when the two of them got going, there was nothing to be done but wait it out. She grabbed a box of tissues from behind the counter and tossed it in the general direction of the couch.

When the giggling fits had more or less passed, Luna dabbed her eyes and said, "Seriously . . . I'm sure you can make up with him."

"Oof, I dunno . . . You weren't there."

"He'll forgive you," she said. "Knowing Nate, he's forgiven you already."

"Yeah," Delilah agreed. "He's always been dumb like that."

Scarlett rolled her eyes. "Thanks for your support, Del—much appreciated. I will say, though . . . I'll never think of the term DIY in quite the same way again."

"DIY, huh." Luna giggled. "Were power tools involved?"

"Oh, ew. Stop." Delilah made a face. "New topic please."

"Happy to oblige," Scarlett said. "So, why is a group of magicians hanging out at the coffee place right now? Hell, why is a group of magicians in Oak Haven at all?"

"Good question," Delilah said. "I have noticed more of those morons in town lately."

"Del . . ." Lula tutted. "We don't want to be prejudiced, do we?"

"Well, I'm sorry, but they're weird. With the outfits and the ‘alakazams!' or whatever?"

Luna sighed. "So, I guess the answer is yes, we do want to be prejudiced . . ."

Scarlett had to smile at her tender-hearted baby sister. "I'm sorry, I'm not trying to be an anti-magician. It just struck me as odd, is all. Probably nothing—never mind. Say, what did I miss around here tonight?"

"Well!" Delilah said. "Zahir managed to pull off a steak dinner for the guests. Which went great until the steaks all turned back into several very angry cows—the upshot being, everyone in this hotel is vegetarian now. Then, in Room 206, some of the Gilbert and Sullivan people had their sheet music begin spontaneously performing itself. And the entire inn was treated to a full-volume performance of ‘He's an Englishman,' over and over, for . . . what was it, Luna, about two hours? We finally managed to catch the sheet music and throw it in the fire."

" For he himself has saiiiid it . . . " Scarlett sang.

"He's making us regreeeet it . . . " Delilah sang back. "He'd better shut up sooooon, or I'll send him to the moooon. "

Scarlett applauded. "Good improv!"

" Improv ? Hardly, I had two goddamn hours to think about it."

The inn's entrance bell jangled and the heavy oak door swung open, revealing Polly, her face contorted with a mix of fury and weariness. Her arms were full of hastily packed luggage, precious belongings tossed in shopping bags. Violet trailed behind unhelpfully, hooded sweatshirt pulled low over her face. Just a sullen shadow, her eyes glued to her phone.

Polly's gaze landed on Scarlett with the force of an Arctic blast. She dumped her bags on the floor with a thud. "Well, well, well . . . look what the kraken dragged in."

"Hah," Scarlett said awkwardly. "Haaah . . . very good. Listen, Polly, again, I'm so sorry about the bookstore—"

Polly cut her off with a dismissive wave. "Save it." She directed her attention to the front desk. "Delilah, this is hardly how I expected my evening to go. And I truly am sorry to impose . . . but I'm afraid we are in need of a place to stay."

"Of course," Luna said. "Whatever we can do to help—you don't even need to ask."

Polly nodded, a flicker of warmth softening the harsh lines of her face. "Thank you both. It's just that the EMS team placed powerful wards all around the bookstore, plus there's all the smoke damage . . ." She glanced quickly at Scarlett, then back to Delilah. "Since Violet and I reside above the shop, well . . . we're essentially homeless. I hope you have a vacancy?"

"For you, always!" Luna stepped forward, throwing her arms around Polly for a supportive squeeze. "Don't give it another thought. We have a lovely suite overlooking the back garden that will be perfect for you and Violet. Let's get you settled right away." Luna scooped up an armload of Polly's luggage and headed upstairs without waiting for a reply.

***

Scarlett knew that, out of all the Melrose sisters, Polly would least appreciate any help from her. So, with that in mind, Scarlett made her way up to bed. It had been quite the clusterfuck of a day. But despite it all, the thing she couldn't get out of her head was the hurt expression on Nate's face, right before he stormed off and left her standing alone by the burning bookstore.

Everything I said came out totally wrong. What had happened between us didn't mean nothing . It meant . . .

Scarlett sighed. She didn't know what it meant. Because if meant something , that suggested she was supposed to do something about it. But what could she possibly do? Stay in Oak Haven to be with him? That was impossible. After everything she'd done, starting with her monumental screw-up ten years ago, and compounded by even more mistakes now? It simply couldn't be—she didn't deserve this place, or him.

On her way to bed, she passed the third floor and paused on the stairs—did she hear a party at the end of the hall? She made her way discreetly down the hall and listened. Music was coming from behind Maximillian's door—something swanky and nostalgic by Dean Martin. Scarlett could hear muffled conversation. Ice cubes rattling in drinks.

A little after-hours gathering, chez Maximillian the Magnificent, Scarlett thought. What are you up to, Max?