Mother had taught me to cook starting when I was about seven. I was pretty good at it, to judge by what others had said. Pax was clearly enjoying the meal, if the gusto with which he ate was any measure.
“You’re my first dinner guest since the house became mine,” I said.
Pax set down his glass and smiled. “I’m honored.” He took another bite of pie. When he’d swallowed he said, “So, what prompted you to want to learn magic?”
I fiddled with my fork. I could say, what? I’d always wanted to learn. Maybe: It’s a hobby. That didn’t sound right. Who takes up real magic as a hobby?
“Two years ago, my brother was stolen by the gremhahn,” I said. “I aim to get him back. A woman is teaching me magic so I can do that.”
I held my breath, waiting to see and hear Pax’s response. He simply nodded and took another bite of pie.
“You don’t seem to find my explanation odd,” I said.
He finished his last bite and wiped his mouth with a linen napkin. “I’ve seen more than a few things that couldn’t be explained. I’ve learned not to be a skeptic.”
“Like what?” I asked.
“Mermaids,” Pax said. “And selkies.”
I couldn’t tell if he was teasing or not. He smiled slowly. I pursed my lips. He was kidding.
*
I fastened on a yellow broad-brimmed hat that complimented the blue tunic and skirt set I wore. The tunic had a button-on cape, good for a cool morning like this one. Needing an extra boost of daring, I pulled on canary yellow gloves. Anyone who would wear gloves like these must be bold, I told myself.
I called out to Scout, who was rooting around in the bedroom for something, likely a misplaced toy. “I’ll be back soon.”
Scout trotted out with her favorite toy—a stuffed duck—in her mouth, dropped it at my feet and gave me a crestfallen look. I scratched her ears.
“I won’t be gone long. When I get back, we’ll go for a nice run on the beach.”
She didn’t look mollified, but she picked up her duck and took it out the back door.
I opened the front door to find Pax waiting. He wore a brown tweed suit—again in the new style, with wide shoulders and loose pants. I’d seen one or two of the fellows at Mimi’s dressed this way, but they hadn’t worn their clothes with half the cleverness Pax did. My canary yellow gloves seemed to fit right in.
“What a nice surprise,” I said. “I haven’t seen you for a while.”
“Nearing the end of the teaching year,” he said. “Papers to read and grade.”
He held out a rectangular box sheathed in blue paper. “I think I missed your birthday.”
I smiled and took the box. “Last week. March 21st.”
“Vernal equinox,” he said. “Good birthday for a mage.”
“Clever of my mother to plan it that way,” I said.
He smiled and glanced at the package in my hands. “Open it.”
Inside was his book.
Pax shrugged. “I hope it doesn’t seem vain to give you my own book, but I thought you might like to have one at home. Save you a trip to the library should you ever want to learn more about the legends.”
I opened the cover. He’d inscribed it To Cassie, a woman of intelligence, curiosity, and magic.
My cheeks grew warm. “Thank you. I’ll treasure it.”
Pax doffed his tan flat cap and smiled. “I thought we might go for a ride today. Get out of town, perhaps Mount Wilson. If you’re not otherwise engaged, that is.”
“That would be lovely,” I said, “but I have an appointment with Diana, the woman who is teaching me magic.”
What a relief to be able to say those words and have Pax look not shocked or appalled, but only interested.
“Do you think she would mind if I came along?”
I hesitated. I wasn’t sure if it was acceptable to bring a stranger to her home. But Mother and I were strangers to her when we’d first appeared on her doorstep, and Diana never had hidden her abilities. Everyone in town knew she was magical. Why not let Pax come?
“I don’t think she’d mind.”
“My car is around back—parked in the alley,” he said, and offered his arm.
I drew in a breath when I saw his car—a blood-red Hemmings Speedster with a long bonnet and buttercream interior. It was a good thing my hair was pinned up and I’d worn a hat with ribbons to tie under my chin. Pax opened the rider’s-side door for me. I stepped onto the running board and slid in as gracefully as I could. He went around to the driver’s side, climbed in himself, and started the vehicle.
The car roared to life like a large animal proclaiming its presence. We sped up the alley toward Santa Fe Avenue. Even with the ribbons tied, I had to hold down my hat with my hand. We drove up Santa Fe to the Roosevelt Highway, Pax expertly weaving the car in and out of the light traffic. Everyone we passed seemed to stare, though I couldn’t tell whether it was the car or Pax that entranced them.
Diana met us at the door. Likely she’d heard the car coming up the hill. She opened her arms and gave me a quick hug, but narrowed her eyes at Pax. Maybe she didn’t approve of his choice of suits or cars.
“Paxton Yeager,” he said, extending his hand. “A friend of Cassie’s.
“He teaches folklore at USC,” I quickly added, hoping that would make him seem more legitimate somehow.
“Your mother is here,” Diana said, taking his hand as briefly as was possible and still be polite, then ignoring Pax as she swept us into the house.
I introduced my mother to Pax. She, at least, seemed to find him acceptable. Diana, though, kept giving him harsh looks.
“I’ll put on the kettle,” Diana said as I settled on the yellow claw-foot couch next to Mother.
“Please let me help,” Pax said and strode off toward the kitchen as though he knew the way from long familiarity.
Mother turned to me, her eyes as bright as a bird’s. “Who is this Paxton?”
I felt an unexpected heat rising in my cheeks. “We met on the beach when I was walking Scout,” I said. “He teaches folklore and was interested in meeting Diana. I didn’t think she’d mind, but she doesn’t seem very happy he’s here.”
Mother patted my hand. “Diana is very fond of you. She’s looking out for your best interests.”
They came back through the door then—Diana with a tray of petit fours, Pax with the heavier pewter tea tray. Whatever tension Diana had felt seemed to be gone.
When we were all settled in the parlor, I said, “Pax told me something interesting the other day about children taken by the gremhahn.”
I’d worried that Mother would be unhappy at my bringing up this subject, but she leaned forward, interested.
“He said that in the folk stories he’d heard, the sea goblin turns the stolen children into seals. He said the selkies watch over the transformed children and try to reunite them with their families. I think the goblin saying Jimmy was in the seashell was a trick.”
Which shouldn’t have been possible. The gremhahn, under Mother’s binding spell, should have been compelled to tell only the truth. If he had tricked us, had lied—I’d have to think about that.
Mother narrowed her eyes and looked at Pax. She knew magic was real, but she wasn’t the sort to be taken in by a stranger who could be a huckster as easily as anything else.
“Only in stories, or is it true?” she said.
Pax seemed to think over the question. I dug my nails lightly into the heel of my palm. He’d say it was only stories, folktales. He’d teased me, saying he’d seen mermaids and selkies, but of course he hadn’t. He couldn’t know the gremhahn was real, no matter what I’d told him. He’d douse Mother’s brief flare of hope.
“I would say,” Pax said, “and most experts in my field would say, that there’s truth behind every folktale.”
Mother considered that. “How much truth would you say lies in your tale of the gremhahn?”
“If the gremhahn were real, then my version
would be one hundred percent accurate.”
Mother seemed satisfied with the answer.
I cleared my throat. “Pax told me something else—that the stolen child only has a year in which to be transformed back into a human. After that, he’ll be a seal forever.”
My words hit mother hard and she gasped.
“Which means,” I said, plowing on, “we have three months left to save Jimmy.”
My eyes were on Diana as I spoke. Her face was calm, and I thought that she’d known this all along. Anger flamed in my chest. If she knew, why had she kept putting off a rescue attempt?
“Yes,” Diana said. “We must make sure you are completely ready before then.”
I wanted to ask about breaking the curses, the spell that took three, but Mother seemed too upset for me to broach it now. Ready or not, healthy or not, she’d agree to anything to get her son back.
Diana said, “We’ll go over each of the spells, to be sure you have them right. We’ll start with the binding spell.”
“What’s the binding spell?” Pax asked. “What does it do?”
Diana shrugged. “As it sounds,” Diana said. “It binds the spellbound to the spell caster.”
Pax threw me a smile. “She can cast it on me,” he said, which took me aback. “It would be an interesting experience and I assume it can be undone.”
Diana arched her eyebrows and shook her head. “Magic isn’t something to be played with. Audrey will be the focus of the spell. Since they are already bound as mother and daughter, there can be no harm done.”
I glanced at Mother. Her hands were folded calmly in her lap and her face had a determined set.
“You’re not worried?” I said to her. “What if something goes wrong with the spell?”
“It won’t,” Mother said. “I have complete confidence in you.”
I hoped that confidence wasn’t misplaced. I looked at Diana. “Are we going to do it right here, in the parlor?”
Diana nodded. I began the spell.
Mother let out a yelp and began shivering uncontrollably.
I shut off the words and grabbed her hands. They were ice cold and shaking as if she’d suddenly developed palsy. Diana said something while she swirled her hands in arcs that began out from her sides and ended in front of her chest. Mother stopped shivering at once—the spell broken.
“Are you all right?” I asked, my voice quivering.
She stared at me blankly a moment, then the light switched on in her eyes.
“I’m fine. What happened?”
“I made a mistake,” I said. “I’m sorry. I did something wrong in the spell. You were shaking hard.”
Mother pursed her lips. “I don’t remember.” She put her hand on my cheek. “No need for you to be upset. No harm done.”
“Are you sure?” I said.
She nodded. “I’m fine, Cassie. Truly.”
I hoped no harm had been done.
I looked over at Diana. “What did I do wrong?” I thought that Diana had been right—Mother wasn’t ready for magic. And Jimmy was running out of time.
The finder woman tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear. “You had two words reversed.”
She walked over to a small writing desk in the corner. “I’m going to write the spell down again and I want you to not attempt it or any other enchantment until both you and I are sure you can do them properly.”
She didn’t have to worry about that. If it weren’t for Jimmy, I’d never try magic again after what had happened.
What had Pax made of all this? Diana? Magic? Mother shaking? He was a hard man to read.
Diana handed me the paper, but she didn’t sit again. It was clear she was drawing the visit to a close.
We said goodbye and Mother walked us to the door.
Just outside, she drew me aside as Pax walked on toward the car.
“Your young man seems quite nice,” she said. “Perhaps you’d like to bring him to dinner sometime.”
I threw my arms around her and hugged her close. “I’m so sorry.”
“I’m fine, Cassie,” she said, emphasizing the fine. “Go with your young man now. I’ll talk to you soon.”
Pax wasn’t my young man. No one would ever be my young man if I couldn’t break the curses.
I hugged her again and got in when he held the car door open.
What an idiot I was. I’d thought I was ready to take on the sea goblin when I couldn’t get even the simplest spell right. I barely noticed when Pax pulled into the alley behind my house, got out, came around and opened the car door for me. I tried to snap myself into some sort of conversation, to at least thank him for driving me, but no words could escape the dark thoughts filling my mind.
At the door, Pax drew a small pad of paper and a pen from inside his suit jacket. He wrote something down and held it out to me.
“This is the number where I’m staying. It seems you need some time to yourself now. Call me if you’d like company, or someone to walk the dog with you.”
I took the paper and thanked him. I didn’t know why I did it, but I rose up on my toes and kissed his cheek.
Fourteen
Hermosa Beach, California
June 1924
My tired eyes burned from staring at the paper I held. I’d stared at it so hard and for so long that I was half surprised it hadn’t burst into flames. My throat was scratchy from reciting the spells Diana had written for me. I wasn’t going to mess up again. The next time I met the sea goblin, I’d be ready.
But if I made myself recite the enchantments one more time, I might scream.
I let out a long sigh and set the paper on the kitchen table, then picked up the phone and called Moira.
“What are you doing tonight?” I said.
Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m trying to get out of playing dominos for hours and hours with old Uncle Chester. Can you save me?”
“Let’s go dancing,” I said.
I could practically hear Moira’s eyes light up and a grin cross her mouth.
“I just need to dress,” she said. “I’ll pick you up in two hours.” There was a pause, and again I could almost hear the gears moving in Moira’s head. Her voice moved up to a normal tone. “Oh, Cassie. I’m so sorry. Let me ask my mother. I’m sure she won’t mind if I come over for a while.”
Whatever lie Moira had concocted to tell her mother was nothing I wanted to know. I didn’t approve of lying to one’s parents, but Moira was a bit of a wild child that way, likely because her parents held her leash so loosely, due to her nearly dying from Spanish Flu. Sometimes you have to accept your friends as they are, not as you’d prefer them to be.
I chose a flowing red silk dress with gold trim—perfect for dancing—red t-strap shoes, long white gloves, and a red cloche hat. I checked my reflection in the mirror. The dress fit well and the color made me happy. Feeling the stars in my hair as I adjusted my hat brought my mood down, but I shook it off. The stars would be gone soon—I’d see to that. The gremhahn would very much regret the day he’d come to our door. I gave my reflection a little salute and said, “Go have fun, Cassie. You deserve it.”
Moira picked me up in the dark-green Italian sports car her parents had given her for her nineteenth birthday. It already had a ding in the fender from her sometimes enthusiastic driving. Moira refused to have it repaired, calling it a “battle scar.”
“Mimi’s again?” she asked.
“It’ll do,” I said, and smiled.
Mimi’s was just as packed and noisy as the last time I’d been there. The air was thick with cigarette smoke and the faintly mixed scent of perfume, aftershave, and sweat. We looked around for an empty table, but every one was occupied.
Moira shouted to be heard over the din. “We’ll have to stand for a bit.” She was already swaying her hips to the music. The band—a drummer, saxophone player, pianist, and a short man on a double bass that was bigger than he was—struck up an instrumental version of “I Wish I C
ould Shimmy Like My Sister Kate.” I felt a touch at my elbow and turned to see a nice-looking man about my age mouth the word dance? I nodded, and followed him onto the dark wooden dance floor. I saw that his friend had taken Moira’s hand and was leading her to the same place. A few couples were doing the Charleston, but my partner led me in a lively foxtrot.
The tension of the past days, weeks, months, years fell away, swirled up and swept clean by the music and pure joy of dancing. When the song ended, we joined the men at their table. We’d barely sat down when Moira grabbed my arm and pulled me toward her to speak in my ear.
“Isn’t that the gorgeous man who offered us a ride the first time you came here?”
I followed her gaze to the man standing at the bar. I must have smiled or something because Moira said, “What?” I didn’t answer, just excused myself and angled through the gyrating dancers to reach the bar.
“Is this your usual haunt?” I asked when I came beside him.
“Not usual, but I’ve come a few times,” Pax said. “And you? I’ve seen you here twice now.”
“This is my second time. Are you following me?”
He laughed. “I know where you live, Cassie. Why would I need to follow you to a dance club?”
My cheeks flamed. How stupid of me to think we were friends and I could make a joke with him.
“No reason. Sorry.” I started to turn when Pax took hold of my hand.
“Shall we dance?” he said.
A guitarist and violinist had joined the band and were playing "The Sheik of Araby." Pax led me onto the dance floor. He was as smooth a dancer as anyone on the professional stage. I relaxed into his arms and let him lead me. The dance floor smelled of cigarettes and sweat. Pax‘s scent was fresh, like the sea. I breathed it in like lifesaving air.
He leaned his mouth close to my ear. “How’s the spell casting coming?”
“Ach,” I said. “I’m sure I have them right and yet I don’t trust that I do. Does that make sense?”
The Girl with Stars in her Hair Page 13
