by Martha Carr
“I don’t think anyone’s ever turned you down for a gig.” Emily spun her copper ring between her fingers.
“Please.” Nickie shrugged. “I get turned down plenty. I promise.”
“Right. Yeah, only by idiots.”
“What about Tuesday?” Greg asked his daughters.
“After school.” Laura nodded. “I could do that.”
“Yeah, I just have a short shift for prep on Tuesday.”
“Works for me.” Nickie pulled both feet up onto the picnic bench, turned sideways, and leaned against the table.
“Perfect. Nance, you wanna come?”
Nancy shook her head. “Nope. I wanted to be a part of this tonight, but I think the rest falls on you. You’re the Hadstrom.”
Greg lifted an eyebrow.
“Why don’t you bring that dental hygienist? Bethany…something-or-other.”
“Beth Anne?” Greg scratched the back of his head and looked down at the table. “No. I mean, she’s nice and everything. I just don’t…”
“Oh, come on.” Nancy leaned over the table in not-completely-genuine interest. “I bet she has incredibly clean teeth.”
He chuckled. “Her teeth are fine, Nance. I’m just not into the cats.”
Nickie and Emily exploded into laughter.
“How many cats?” Laura asked with a raised brow.
“A lot. Can’t get away from ‘em. It’s just…really not my thing.”
“Dad.” Nickie stared at him with wide eyes, her mouth hanging open in amusement. “You’re dating a cat lady?”
Laura laughed and quickly covered her mouth with both hands.
“Hey, we aren’t dating. Just went on a few…” Greg glanced sideways at his ex. “Dates. The dates were fine. But the cats…hey, wait a minute.” He shook his head and chuckled, his eyes crinkling into slits. “I’m not gonna bring a date with me to show you girls the magical prison our family built when this ship was so new it could still make it out of planetary orbit.”
“Well, she’s a witch, isn’t she?” Nancy said.
“Yeah. She is. But that doesn’t have anything to do with it, because Beth Anne and I aren’t—” Greg shook his head. “This is a ridiculous conversation to have right now.”
“Hey, Dad?”
Greg peered at Emily.
His youngest daughter grinned. “I think maybe you’re getting a taste of your own weird medicine right now and you don’t much care for it.”
“What?” Greg turned to Nancy, looking baffled. “Since we’re bringing it up, how are things with Mitchell?”
“Mitchell?” Laura stuck out her tongue.
“Sounds like a biker.” Nickie lifted her hands and mimed twisting a motorcycle throttle. “Mitch.”
“That information is none of your business.” Nancy closed her eyes and shook her head.
“What? You were just telling me all about the guy last week.”
“Yes, and, right now, Greg, it’s none of your business.”
Emily made her own explosion sound effects. “Shot down.”
“Such a double standard,” Greg added.
“Well, I think we’re both entitled to that now, aren’t we?” Nancy blinked at him and gave him a tight, avoidant smile.
Her ex cleared his throat and turned to their daughters. “You gotta put on the ring, Em.”
“Huh?”
“Put it on.” He pointed to his own hand.
“Right now?”
“Yep.”
With a confused laugh, Emily eyed their dad and gave everyone more than enough time to pay attention as she lowered the huge copper ring toward her extended thumb.
Nickie snorted. “Oh, jeez.”
Emily slipped on the ring. “There. It’s all—whoa.” All three Hadstrom sisters gazed at their rings. A tingly warmth spread from their thumbs into their hands.
Nickie let out a wry laugh. “Did that go all the way up your arm too?”
Laura frowned at the silver ring on her thumb. “And down to my kneecaps.”
“Nickie, what about you?”
The middle sister looked at them. “Somewhere in the middle, I think.”
“That’s like your entire body…wait. No. Nope. I don’t even wanna know,” Laura said, wrinkling her nose.
Emily gawped across the table. “Uh, where did you feel it?”
“Well.” Nancy interrupted, bringing her hands down on the table. “I think that’s enough said.” She stood.
Laura looked up at her. “No, don’t go yet…”
“Come on, Mom. At least stay ‘til Dad’s done tellin’ us about our legacy. It’s only…” Nickie checked her phone inside her purse. “Oh. It’s already twelve-thirty.”
Emily laughed. “Answer the question, Nickie.”
Her sister ignored her.
“No, your mom’s right.” Greg stood. “It’s late. And, really, I’ve told you guys everything you need to know right now. At least until Tuesday.” He pointed at Nickie beside him, then swept his finger toward his other daughters. “Tuesday? Six-thirty?”
The Hadstrom sisters agreed and stood to hug their parents goodbye.
“Just remember,” their dad said, “those rings chose you as much as you chose them. They’ll make you stronger, pull your magic out in ways that’ll surprise you. Trust me. This is from experience.” He touched Emily’s cheek, then wrapped his arm around Laura and then Nickie, pulling all three girls toward him for a squashed hug. “Most important,” he added in a low voice, dipping his head like just another one of the girls swapping secrets. “The only way the rings, your magic, and the three of you can protect the Hadstrom family legacy is by using it together. Those things weren’t made separately. They’re tied to each other, just like all of you. Love you, girls.”
“Love you too, Dad.”
Laura ducked backward under Greg’s arm to give their mom one last hug. Then Greg Hadstrom and Nancy Milton headed across the back patio of the Mean Eyed Cat. He leaned toward her to say something with a devious smirk.
She jerked away and frowned at him. “Oh, don’t even.” Nancy sounded pissed, but then she laughed before they left the bar.
7
Emily shook her head. “Please tell me I’m not the only one who thinks it’s weird to see them like that.”
“You’re not the only one.” Nickie patted her little sister on the back and shrugged. “But what’re ya gonna do?”
“It looked like they were flirting, though. Right? I mean, didn’t they do that when they were married?”
“Only when you were little.” Nickie grabbed her purse off the picnic bench.
“I’m only two years younger than you.”
“I know. I think they’re just good friends who had some kids together and gave it a try. They liked the part with us. Obviously. But they just didn’t wanna be married anymore.”
Laura turned toward her sisters and cocked her head. “Did they actually tell you that?”
“No.” Nickie shrugged and ran a hand through her dark hair. “That’s just what I’m choosing to believe.”
Laura shook her head. “There’s no choosing to believe something in a divorce, Nickie. They waited until Emily’s second year of undergrad to get away from each other. Which seems like a long time to pretend, if you ask me. They should stop pretending and just call it what it is already.”
“What is it?” Emily asked.
“A divorce. The end. And they’re still trying to hold onto something.”
Nickie chuckled. “You think maybe that has to do with having three magical daughters tasked with protecting Earth’s entire witch population? I mean, that seems like a good thing to hold onto. They’re not gonna drop that just because their interactions are a little… weirder than normal.”
“Well, now we have the rings.” Laura fiddled with the silver ring on her left thumb. “And we have this responsibility now. So maybe they should finally call it quits and move on with their lives.”
�
�You sound just a little angry.” Emily pushed her neck forward and squinted at her oldest sister. “You sure there’s not something else going on?”
“I’m not angry.” Laura smoothed her hands down the sides of her cotton skirt and took a deep breath. “And no. There’s not ‘something else going on.’” She returned her attention to her silver ring.
“Okay.” Emily met Nickie’s gaze and mouthed, ‘There’s something else going on.’
Nickie nodded and started across the patio. “You guys ready to go?”
Laura trailed her finger along the curve of her ring. “I’m gonna find out everything about you.”
Emily stopped beside her. “What was that?”
“What? Nothing. Yeah. I’m ready.”
“Great. I left my car in the campus lot, so…”
Nickie turned around and spread her arms. “Yep. Mine’s at Chuck’s place.”
“Okay. Looks like we’re pilin’ into mine.” Laura followed Nickie through the back door into the bar.
“Shotgun!” Emily hurried to catch up.
When they pulled up in front of their two-story Victorian house on Pressler Street, it was almost one in the morning. Laura turned off her 2012 Ford Taurus as a neighbor across the street and a few houses down got out of an old El Camino and headed toward the front door of the blue bungalow.
“Hey.” Emily pointed through the windshield. “We met her when we first moved in, right? What’s her name?”
“I dunno. Margie… something.” Laura removed her keys from the ignition and stuck them in her purse. “She always come home this late?”
In the backseat, Nickie shrugged. “I mean, I’m usually out a lot later than this. I don’t really notice.”
“Isn’t she like a cop or something?”
“I think she’s a detective.”
“What’s the difference?”
Laura opened her mouth for a pert reply, then puffed a sigh through her lips. “I honestly don’t know.”
“Huh. Maybe she’s working long hours again.” Emily squinted at the lights coming on in the bungalow.
“Yeah.” Nickie unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the back door. “A cop starting work at one in the morning. From home.”
“I dunno. You think she’s asleep yet?”
Laura opened her door. “No clue, we just walked in the door. And that’s her business.”
When both the car doors closed, Emily sat in the passenger seat and made a face at the dark sidewalk. Then she got out and followed her sisters up the cement stairs on the sloping hill toward the house. “Is it so wrong to wanna make friends with our neighbors?”
“No. But we have bigger things to think about right now.” Laura fetched her house keys from her purse.
“Like what?”
“Like we just got magical rings from our very first ancestors on Earth and now have to keep a creature who wants to kill all witches from getting what it wants.” Laura shoved the door open and stepped into the broad foyer leading to the stairs. The overhead lights clicked on, and she kicked off her Mary Janes. Laura started up the staircase.
“Hey, hold on.”
The oldest Hadstrom sister turned around and raised her eyebrows at Nickie.
“What’s going on?” Nickie squinted at her. “Seriously.”
Laura sighed and deflated. “Nothing. Sorry. It’s been a…weird day. Then Mom and Dad spring this whole legacy thing on us. I’m just…I need sleep.”
Emily snorted. “I mean, he did say they had a surprise.”
Laura shook her head. “Don’t call it that.”
Emily’s mouth fell open, and Nickie pressed her lips together to keep from laughing.
Laura yawned. “I’ll see you guys in the morning. And congrats, Em. You worked hard on your degree, and you deserve every bit of it.”
“Not sure if that’s really a compliment,” Emily muttered. “But thanks.”
“It is. Just exhausted. Goodnight.”
“‘Night.”
Laura climbed the tall flight of stairs to the second floor and turned right on the landing. When they bought this house out of foreclosure almost two years ago—which made it affordable for the three of them to split—neither of her sisters had argued against her taking the master bedroom. Even though it only had an attached half-bath, and they had to share the one shower upstairs, Laura had seen the perfect bones in the master bedroom the day they came to check out the house; after that, she couldn’t settle for any other room. It had all the space she needed for her museum—at least, for the size of it almost two years ago. She’d made her own additions since then.
The wards she’d placed around her bedroom door shimmered when she turned the knob and stepped inside. “Yes. It’s still perfect.” Her queen-sized bed in the four-poster frame sat in the corner just to the left of the door, the comforter, sheets, and pillowcases a soothing shade of tan but not too frilly. Her L-desk took up the far-right wall and that side of the back wall, ending just beside the door into her walk-in closet.
Laura went to the desk and scanned her neatly stacked piles of paperwork and forms, research materials, a few emails she’d printed. “She really should have gone back to find that cap. It would look nice in a frame.” Laura’s hung above her desk on the wall, arranged in a frame with her tassel and cord and her folded graduation robe. “Okay, mine’s a doctorate, but a bachelor’s cap for Em would look just as good.” She glanced at all her other degrees, certifications, and licenses framed on the wall, then shook her head. “Emily’s life. Emily’s choice…”
“But you. Now we gotta figure out what to do with you, don’t we?” Her fingers wrapped around the handle of the thirteenth-century bronze dagger she’d taken to the Greenbelt that afternoon. “Not very buzzy-tingly anymore, huh? Not that I’m complaining. You did your job. I just have no idea what that was.” Dagger in hand, she went and opened the door to her walk-in closet.
A loud squeak came from the other side of the door as she opened it.
Laura stopped. “Egbert? Oh, boy. I thought we talked about this.” She squatted and reached out to stroke the dark-brown quills tipped with purple that covered the billynordle’s back. The creature wiggled in delight beneath her touch and nipped at her fingers with its short, round, bright-orange bill. The first time she’d seen one of these magical creatures, she’d called it a cross between a platypus and an echidna—with bright-blue legs and a green belly. “Actually, I know we talked about this.”
Laura coaxed the billynordle onto her palm and stood, still gripping the dagger in her other hand. “I’m sorry I opened the door on you. And I know it’s in your nature to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, my friend.” Egbert ruffled his quills and blinked his large blue eyes. “But while I’m gone if you stayed in that cozy little bed I made for you , we wouldn’t have this problem. Right?”
The creature swelled to its full size with a deep breath and chirped at her.
Laura chuckled. “Right. Let’s get you somewhere safer.”
The lights came on automatically as she moved through the reliquary in her closet, which was ten times the size it had been when the sisters bought the house. Laura stepped down a half flight of stairs into a room wider than her bedroom and extending beyond the house’s physical boundaries.
“Okay. Here you go.” She bent to lower the billynordle into the cardboard box lined with strips of one of her old shirts and a shredded ball of yarn. Egbert chirped. “I know. You put a lot of work into this thing too. So how ‘bout you just stay there and enjoy it for a while, okay? Here.” She opened the top drawer of a desk beside the foot of the stairs and grabbed some hamster yogurt treats to sprinkle in the creature’s nest. “It’s late, and you should be asleep. I have some work to do.”
A bright-green blur streaked past her toward the billynordle’s nest. A skratchhok climbed up over the edge of the box, its three eyes peering down into Egbert’s nest.
“Hey.” Laura bent down toward the creature, which
could have been a chameleon with lime-green batwings if not for the third eye and tuft of white hair atop its head. “I know I fed everyone before Emily’s graduation. You should all be asleep.”
The skratchhok studied her for a few seconds, then opened its mouth quite wide and squawked.
“No. Shh. You’re gonna wake up my sisters.”
Another squawk echoed behind her, and Laura turned just in time to duck below the fluttering wings of two more creatures in various green shades. She laughed and had to shush herself.
“Okay, okay. Here.” With another handful of yogurt treats, she drew the skratchhoks away from Egbert’s nest and spread the treats out on the floor. The winged lizards scrabbled toward her on clawed feet, squeaking and bumping into each other to get to the late-night snack. “I mean it, though. After this, it’s back to your perch. Do you really want to wake Inez up in the middle of the night and have to deal with her bad mood?” All three lizards froze, looked at her, and crouched low, making tiny, fragile squeaks.
“I didn’t think so.” Hiding her smile, Laura turned and walked to the right, where she’d charmed the bookshelf along the entire wall to expand as needed to accommodate all the artifacts, tomes, and trinkets she’d unearthed over the years. She passed her very first—the wand she’d pulled from Barton Creek seventeen years ago, before she’d come of age to make her own. That wand had started her collection. “And it’s good to have you right here, front and center, to remind me.”
Laura stopped a few feet down the floor-to-ceiling shelf where she kept her metal artifacts. She lifted the dagger and eyed it from dull tip to rounded handle. “We need to make room for you, don’t we?”
She lowered the dagger toward the shelf, and the ring on her thumb began to pulse with a faint silver glow. With a low groan, all four shelves stretched themselves—and the entire length of the room—by another three feet.
Laura blinked at the ring. “I’d say that’s going a little overboard, don’t you think?”
The ring gave no reaction.
Sighing, Laura placed the bronze dagger in the empty space that was way larger than she intended and gave it a gentle pat. “You did your job better than I expected. And I think I need to go have a little chat with Carl about what we did today. I think I might have messed with our family legacy a little bit.”
