Chapter 33 Cane Toads

Scarlett and Delilah let themselves into the shuttered Spice Girls Experience theater, traveled back through the portal, and found themselves returned safely to Max's room. Delilah gently placed Quentin's cage on the queen-sized bed and let him out. "I'm going to find you a much better living situation. No more of those ridiculous performances." She gave him a good scratch behind his ears. "Don't you worry, Q."

They went downstairs to find the lobby dark and quiet—the actors must have knocked off for the evening, and many of the witches had gone home. Eventually the sisters found Mama, Luna, Aphra, and Priti, still huddled around a cast-iron table in the back garden, still trying to work out a solution to the town's problems. Their worried faces were accentuated by the candlelight, but a happy cry went up when they saw Scarlett and Delilah returned.

Luna leapt up to hug them. "I was so worried! Mama said not to, but I couldn't help it."

"Aw, that's sweet." Scarlett had to smile. "Mama was confident we could handle ourselves."

"Not especially," their mother corrected. "But if you failed, we're probably doomed, so what's the point of worrying?"

"Right. Great."

Aphra beckoned the sisters to come join their circle. "We've been sitting out here trying to brainstorm more oak-rescue ideas."

"Not getting very far," Priti said. An open bottle of white wine was on the table, and Priti offered them both a glass. "Please, improve our evening and tell us you found something."

Scarlett and Delilah glanced at one another. "We did . . ." Delilah said hesitantly.

"Yeah." Scarlett nodded. "Whether it improves your evening or not remains to be seen."

They explained the surprisingly stable portal Max had created and how he'd been moving magicians in and out for some time. They talked about the Vanishing Point and their discussion with Max—about his Secret Agent Man identity and quiz nights at the coffee shop. About the magicians' plans to turn Oak Haven into Salem. About the creation and intended destruction of the flies.

"Okay, awesome," said Priti. "So we need to figure out the right predator to clean out the flies and Bob's your uncle." She tilted her head. "What a dumb expression, Bob's your uncle . Why do people say that, anyhow?"

"Bob ain't my uncle." Scarlett chuckled.

"Nor mine," Priti agreed. "Who around here has an Uncle Bob?"

But Aphra wasn't in a joking mood. "I don't like this one bit."

"Aw, c'mon," said Priti. "How about you lighten up and take yes for an answer." She abruptly turned back toward Scarlett. "Now, that's an idiom I can get behind. Take yes for an answer."

" Priti ," Aphra said warningly. "Think this through. The magicians are our enemies, apparently. Frankly, I don't care for the idea that anyone in Oak Haven has an enemy, and yet it seems we have a whole pack of them. The predator solution came to us from our enemies. Why would we use their method? Why would we want to act like them in any way?"

Scarlett frowned. "But . . . it's a good idea. Why not seize a good idea, regardless of the source?"

" Is it a good idea, though?" asked Luna hesitantly.

"Exactly," Aphra agreed. "There's a long history of people trying to solve one pest problem by bringing in a worse pest."

Luna nodded. "Cane toads. I saw them all over Australia when I was there. Cane toads were imported to only kill the beetles that were harming Australian sugar cane crops. Instead, cane toads kill everything in their path."

"Look, I hear what you're saying," Scarlett said. "But until we have our own genius solution—which you all just admitted to me we absolutely do not—I say we at least consider Max's."

Delilah reached for more wine. "Remember this, too: magic will return to normal once the dragonflies are cleared out. Then, if we need to remove cane toads, bats, or whatever it might be, we'll have our powers available to do it."

"A lot of assumptions there, Del," said Aphra. "Like, that magic definitely will come back—we hope it will, but we've never dealt with this before. Also, you're assuming the cane toads won't make things even worse in ways we can't think of right now."

Priti held out her glass for more wine. "I think we all agree, cane toads are out."

Scarlett nudged Delilah. "I wonder which intern took cane toads in the office betting pool?"

Delilah shook her head. "Don't start."

But it was too late. Mama leaned forward, sensing trouble. "What's this about an office pool?"

Scarlett explained about Max gambling on sparrows, dummy Brian with his lizards, and clever Cindy, the intern. "That aspect does bother me," she admitted. "What office?! Magicians have an office?"

Delilah nodded. "Also, Max talked about his bosses —what they would tell him, what they wouldn't. So . . . somewhere there's a group of hierarchical magicians with an office and an internship program?"

"It's like no matter what we do," Priti joked, "we can't get rid of Ricky Gervais."

Scarlett laughed. "They keep their wands in jelly instead of staplers."

Mama rapped on the table, her longtime signal for cut the shit . "If you girls had questions about the bosses, why didn't you ask Max?"

"Well," Scarlett said defensively, "we were pretending to be his handlers. So there was a limit to how much ignorance we could show."

"You don't know what it was like, Mama," Delilah said.

"He was already deeply suspicious of us," continued Scarlett. "We got him talking with this whole ‘handlers' ruse but he started doubting us pretty quickly."

"Why?" Mama demanded. "If you'd put a solid hypnotic spell on him, he wouldn't have doubted you if you'd pushed him into traffic."

"We did the best we could, Mama!"

"Oh, well, thank you so much, Scarlett. I'll be sure to let the people of Oak Haven know—when our unpredictable magic has caused all their houses to explode and the magicians have returned to put a McDonald's in the middle of the town green? I'll be sure to let them all know that Scarlett Melrose did her best ."

"Oh my God, Mama," Scarlett groaned. "If you're such an expert, why don't you go fucking ask him yourself!"

"Hey," Luna said gently. "Let's not—"

"No," Scarlett said fiercely. "I mean it. Go ahead, Mama. The portal is right upstairs. I'm sure a witch of your caliber will have no trouble locating one sad-sack magician in a town of, what, less than a million people."

Mama's expression went stone cold. "You left him out there?"

"What the hell did you think we were gonna do, arrest him?"

" Why the hell not ?" Mama shot back. "He could have given us names, locations, all sorts of useful details."

"We wanted to get home and tell you all about—"

"You were reckless, Scarlett. Reckless and thoughtless, as ever." She stood up, signaling the conversation was over. "Luna, I want you to figure out which predator we need—perhaps the Myrmex Arcana contains a clue. Aphra, you work on new enchanted cages where we might keep these predators in check for as long as possible. And girls, I want both of you to know that I do recognize the wisdom of your words. You are smart to be cautious. But as Scarlett has so kindly pointed out, we are dangerously low on options at the moment. Priti, I'm sorry but I'm afraid we must depend on you and your EMS service to continue to respond to incidents wherever necessary. Delilah, you see to the guests—even in times of trouble, we are still an inn, and we still owe our customers good service. I will be upstairs in meditation." She turned and stalked back toward the dining room.

"And what about me, Mama ?" demanded Scarlett. " Whatever shall I do ?"

"How about you stay out of everyone's way and not continuously make the situation worse. Can you handle that?"

Scarlett flinched as though she'd been slapped. She stood, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. Without another word, she turned and stormed back inside.

She paced the lobby like a miserable tiger in a roadside zoo. Reckless, thoughtless . . . the same goddamn criticisms her mother had been leveling at Scarlett since childhood. Kelly Melrose needs some fresh material.

After all, if it weren't for me, we never would have found Max in the first place. Delilah was just standing there in front of the portal, staring into the blankness—like some highwire performer without the guts to go over the edge. I'm the reason we have all this information. I'm the reason we have some idea how to fix it.

Scarlett saw herself reflected in the lobby's dark windows. You're also a major reason the town is in this mess in the first place , her reflection seemed to say. So yeah, maybe you sorted out how to fix it. What do you want, a medal?

She was still standing there when Aphra entered, her coat over her arm. "You all right?"

"Fantastic," Scarlett said bitterly.

Aphra wrapped her arm around Scarlett's elbow. "Well I'm off—I'm headed home, Dayo's waiting up for me. You want to come along, just for the walk? A little fresh air might do you good."

"Yeah . . . I need to visit Nate, anyhow."

"Ah." Aphra smiled. "There we go. Nate will cheer you right up."

But Scarlett shook her head sadly. "No, not this time."

***

Scarlett and Aphra ambled down Main Street side by side. Despite the current chaos, the people of Oak Haven were embracing the coming of Halloween with a theatrical fervor. Porches were strung with strings of lights shaped like jack-o-lanterns. Cardboard cut-outs of dancing skeletons hung on doors, and everywhere were handmade scarecrows in a variety of spooky get-ups—mummies, Draculas, Frankensteins. Meanwhile leaves crunched underfoot, and bare branches, like skeletal fingers, clawed at the night sky. Overhead, a gibbous moon peeked through the swirling clouds, casting an ethereal glow.

"It's so beautiful," Aphra sighed. "I love how everyone gets excited about Halloween. You'd never know there's so much trouble brewing in the grove."

"It's Disneyland on the surface and Buffy the Vampire Slayer underneath," Scarlett murmured.

"Listen . . . about your mother . . ." Aphra's voice was hesitant. "She can be a bit . . . tough on you, can't she?"

Scarlett shrugged. "Tough? That's putting it mildly. She's like Smaug atop his treasure hoard, except the treasure is criticism and every once in a while she chucks a fistful at my head."

"I think she's just worried about the town. There's a lot of responsibility on her shoulders as a Melrose. The rest of us don't have statues of our families in the center of town."

"Don't I know it," Scarlett grumbled.

"She loves you, you know."

"Doesn't always feel like it."

Aphra reached out and squeezed Scarlett's hand. "You're perfect just the way you are," she said, her voice filled with warmth and sincerity. "You and Delilah did a great job in Las Vegas—not one of us could have done better, Kelly Melrose included."

They continued on their way, their footsteps echoing on the lonely cobblestone street. The closer they got to Williams Hardware, the more Scarlett's heart lifted at the thought of seeing Nate, even if it was for a terrible reason. Delilah's right, Scarlett thought. I have to let him go. But at least I can do one thing right today—I can do right by my best friend. I can feel good about that, if nothing else.

But something wasn't right. The usually welcoming porch lights of Williams Hardware were dark. The windows were black and empty.

"That's strange," Aphra murmured. "Nate always leaves a light on. Even when he's closed, you never know when the Earls will be out here playing chess or some such."

Scarlett nodded, a knot forming in her stomach. "Something happened."

Exchanging a worried glance, they pushed open the door, the rusty hinges creaking in protest. The darkness within was absolute, the air heavy with a strange, metallic scent.

"Nate, it's me," Scarlett called out, her voice echoing strangely in the oppressive silence. "Nate, are you here?"

A faint moan, followed by a muffled goddammit , came from the back of the store. Scarlett, heart hammering, raced toward the sound, with Aphra close behind. She nearly tripped over a rack of rakes, their metal tines glinting faintly in the sliver of moonlight filtering through a window.

There, lying in a heap near the storeroom door, was Nate. He was clutching his head, and covered head-to-toe in black soot.

"Oh no!" Scarlett knelt beside him. "Nate! Nate, are you all right?"

He blinked slowly, his eyes struggling to focus in the darkness. "Scarlett?" His voice was raspy, as if he'd inhaled a mouthful of smoke. "I . . . I saw a light. Under the storeroom door. It got brighter and brighter. Blinding. And it kept spreading, farther and farther past the door. It moved across me, across the store . . . even outside, I guess? And then there was this whoosh sound and . . . this eye-gouging flash of light and then it all went black."

Aphra had found a camping lantern and turned it on; the sudden bloom of light revealed the extent of the devastation. The storeroom door hung open, its frame charred and blackened. Inside, every trace of magic—the herbs, the crystals, the enchanted tools—had been reduced to ash.

"I'd been picturing your storeroom as being akin to uranium," Scarlett said, her voice shaking. "I guess that was more accurate than I thought."

Nate, still dazed, pulled himself to his feet. He poked at the ashen remains. "Is it over?"

Aphra made her way to the center of the bombed-out storeroom, and tears welled in her eyes. "There's nothing left. Oh, Scarlett, how will everyone protect themselves? There's nothing left at all. Priti and the EMS will be helpless."

"It's going to be okay, Aphra . . ." Nate went to her, wrapping her in a friendly hug. "I can restock," he said encouragingly. "I'll call my contacts in Boston tomorrow—they've got everything."

"It could be too late."

He shook his head, uncomprehending. "Too late for what?"

Aphra sighed and hugged Nate again. "Scarlett can explain everything. Me, I'm going home. I miss my Dayo. I want to make out with my wife and run a hot bath, not necessarily in that order. Scarlett, I'll stop by the inn tomorrow so we can keep talking."

When she'd left, Nate turned to Scarlett. "Look at us. You and me, alone in the wreckage. Yet again."

"Seems like it. You're right, though, you can restock."

"Should I though? I mean, I know—I just told Aphra I would but . . . maybe bringing in fresh supplies to this situation is a bad idea." Nate idly nudged a charred herb barrel with his boot. "The grove is getting worse, isn't it?"

Scarlett chuckled bitterly. "Yup, the grove is getting worse."

Their eyes met, and Scarlett felt a rush of emotions—pangs of regret and guilt, but also something deeper, something she wasn't quite ready to name.

Nate, his face covered in soot but his eyes filled with affection, reached for Scarlett's hand. His touch sent a jolt through her. "What brings you back to my now even-more-humble-than-usual abode?"

"Yeah. Um. Well. Nate, the truth is . . ." She paused, hoping he couldn't hear the tremor in her voice. "The truth is . . . I came here to say something to you. Can we sit and talk somewhere?"

Nate studied her carefully. "I'm not sure I want to have whatever conversation this is."

"I know," she sighed. "Me neither. But we have to."