“For now, make sure you don’t forget the charms,” Mirthe said.
On the way home, Sebastian caught up with Fallon. “She didn’t need to embarrass you like that,” he grumbled. “I was there too.”
Fallon slowed her steps. “No, I deserve it. We need to be taking this seriously.”
“Still—”
Five girls waited at the entrance. A girl with soft pigtails waved at him and said, “Bastion, what took you so long? We were waiting for you.”
“Looks like your new girlfriend is calling you,” Fallon said.
Sebastian sighed and hitched up his schoolbag. “Fine. We’ll talk later.”
For a moment, she could only think about Sebastian and the pigtails girl embracing under a streetlamp or sharing an ice cream cone despite the frigid weather. Fallon rubbed her shoulders. “Go have fun. I’ll just see you at the party.”
She walked ahead, brushing past the girls. Fallon pressed her hands to her ears as casually as she could to avoid hearing the sound Sebastian’s lips would make upon connecting with the girl’s.
* * *
The blue colonial house with its back to the sea bore years of abuse. Cracked windows on the second floor were repaired with duct tape. A stone sundial was missing the slice for three in the afternoon. The garage on the side of the house was wide-open, revealing an intricate weather charm-making studio.
As Fallon approached, the hairs on her arms rose. Most charm shops made her feel funny, but this one, having been both lived in and used excessively, carried its own sea of memories. Some charm-makers sold their own weather charms to add variety, but the twins’ family specialized in this craft for generations. No wonder Femke and Mirthe are a little strange, she thought.
Pinwheels spun madly within the shrubs, even though the rest of the town lacked a breeze. Mr. De Keyser, the twins’ father, licked his thumb and raised it. “Southerly coming this way,” he said to no one. The empty jars lining the back wall of the garage rattled.
“Batten down the hatches,” Mirthe teased, appearing at the front door. October’s chill couldn’t touch her; she wore a chunky sweater that almost hid the fact that there was a swimsuit underneath. Bare-legged, she crossed the front lawn and winked. “Dad’s working on a special order for warm winds. The others have already arrived. Let’s go around back.”
Bemused, Fallon followed. “Your dad looks just like a stranded captain.” Mr. De Keyser’s navy-blue vest had nautical patches covering it; the white pants torn off at the knees seemed to imply that he had emerged from a sinking ship minutes ago.
“We De Keysers believe that getting as close as we can to the elements makes for a stronger charm, every time. Our great-great-aunt Noor wanted not only to control weather but to become it. She crafted a charm that would deconstruct her body into wind.”
“What happened?”
“Didn’t work. She ended up falling to her death after attempting to fly.” Mirthe sighed. “You see what I mean, though. We come as close as we can to weather. The closer you get, the more powerful the charm.”
As dismal as the story was, Fallon noticed the pride evident in Mirthe’s voice. At home, she and Femke were accepted. They had a wonderful purpose with a family as strange and kind as they were.
The lawn gave way to sand. Grimbaud wasn’t known for beaches; pinching crabs and rocks covered the coastline. Lovers twisted their ankles attempting to climb sand dunes or bruised their backs while reclining near the water. The De Keysers’ property had a relatively smooth path to the dock. Fallon took off her sandals.
“Watch out for pinching crabs. You wouldn’t want to lose a toe.”
“Can that really happen?”
“I have stories.”
Fallon believed her.
The dock stretched out from the sand like a crooked finger. A single rowboat bobbed in the water, tied in place with thick rope. Sebastian, Hijiri, Femke, and Nico sat around a table squeezed onto the narrow dock. The wind rattled the backs of their fold-out chairs. It was a mystery that no one toppled over into the water, what with the table being so big and round and pushing everyone’s chairs to the very edge.
“Sorry I’m late,” Fallon said as her feet thumped against the wooden boards. “I got stuck in line for the pralines.”
They descended upon her offering of raspberry-and-coffee-filled pralines until everyone went quiet, licking their fingers. Fallon settled into the chair between Nico and Sebastian, trying not to think about the chilly water only a breath away from her chair’s legs.
“We’re going to be very organized about this,” Femke said, poised with her notebook and pen at the ready. Just like her sister, she wore a chunky sweater and swimsuit. Neither girl seemed cold, though everyone else shivered in their scarves and boots. Hijiri dabbed her red nose with a tissue and offered to go first with her collected love charms.
“Wait,” Mirthe said. “One more minute.”
Fallon wasn’t sure what they were waiting for, but no one saw fit to argue. She sat with her hands in her lap, ignoring the nipping winds, until she heard Mr. De Keyser’s crowing laughter from his workshop.
A new wind crawled through, nudging the other winds away as it slowly blanketed the dock. Fallon breathed deeply, tasting balmy, moist air and shaved coconuts. Her coat felt too stuffy. Her hands began to sweat. She shucked off her coat, hanging it on the back of her chair, and noticed that the others were doing the same.
Femke and Mirthe shed their sweaters, revealing modest one-piece swimsuits. “The southerly has arrived,” Mirthe said. “We have some time before Dad bottles it all up.”
Nico leaned his elbows on the table and sighed. “How much does your father charge for the heat? I’d love to pocket some for the ticket booth.”
“Oh, it won’t feel this intense if you buy one,” Femke said. “As you can imagine, we have to have a ton of heating charms in stock over the winter. Dad has to split the winds into pieces that go into each charm. The heat’s less potent the smaller it is.”
“If you’ve got the money, you’ll get a larger piece,” Mirthe said.
Nico pouted. “I probably don’t.”
“There’s always electricity,” Femke said.
Fallon bit back a laugh. The rest of the world relied on air-conditioning units, yet only in Grimbaud could you think of spending your money on a charm to do the work for you. Too bad charms didn’t last as long; you had to keep returning to the shop to buy more before the old ones lost their power.
Eager to use the heat while it lasted, the club started sharing their charms. Fallon went first, opening her binder of the magazine charms. Most of the charms required the user to recite a particular phrase or wear an item (usually an accessory) on a certain day. Despite the sea’s protection, Fallon didn’t want to try a new one.
“What about the one that promises a boost in stamina?” Sebastian said.
Mirthe let out a snorty laugh. “Stamina for your first date? Did they make that charm for older daters?”
“Wouldn’t that come in handy if we confront Zita at night? It could be harder to find her than we thought. We’ll need the energy,” Sebastian said.
“Yeah, but how do you feel about following its requirements? You must wear a pink ribbon tied to your shoulder on Tuesdays. If we don’t find her on a Tuesday, we’ll just be wearing useless ribbons.” Mirthe tapped her chin. “You may be onto something, though. We should see if any of these lovesick charms can provide us some practical use.”
Fallon wanted to assure him that his idea was good, but with their chairs so close together, exchanging a quick smile would have been awkward. Her gaze fell to his hands resting on the table. The blue rubber bracelet he always wore on his wrist was much closer now. She tried to read the cracked lettering.
“What?” His warm breath brushed her cheek.
Fallon twitched. He’d caught her. Part of her didn’t care that she was prying. The bracelet was on his wrist for anyone to see. She tugged on the bracelet a
nd rubbed her thumb over the faded black ink of a paw print. “This is from your grandmother’s clinic.”
Sebastian watched her fingers on his bracelet. “Yes.”
“You wouldn’t believe the charms I heard about,” Nico said, eager to go next.
The sound of his marble notebook hitting the table startled Fallon. She pulled back and hid her hands under the table.
“Tourists don’t care at all about rules and norms. They’re not afraid of being overheard by Zita’s minions. At first, I hadn’t been sure how I could help the rebellion, but discovering that I had my own channel of vital information was, well, a huge relief.”
Out on the canal, the tourists entertained Nico with love-charm stories. The charms had punch lines, interwoven with little warnings and life lessons, to the point that Nico wondered where the charms began and the tourists’ experiences ended. A rather heavyset man wearing a straw hat spent the entire cruise telling Nico about a love charm that got him sent to the hospital with a broken leg. Apparently, it was a painful charm meant to capture the attention of a pretty nurse.
“Breaking his leg over a girl,” Sebastian mumbled, shaking his head.
Nico flashed a wry smile. “Now that one, I think, was a con.”
“I don’t want to think about cons,” Hijiri said, her quiet voice sharp. She said that in her hometown, con men pedaling fake charms were a common problem. “I found a charm that could do a good job stunning or distracting. It’s called Blinded by Love. You use a mirror and blow a handful of glitter across its surface. The effect causes a flash of light.”
Mirthe grinned. “I get why it’s called that now.”
Hijiri pulled a compact mirror and a bottle of glitter out of her bag. She ignored their stares and shrugged, saying, “It could be useful to us.”
Fallon didn’t believe her. She was sure that the blinding charm was one of Hijiri’s creations.
Mirthe blew a kiss and did as Hijiri had instructed, causing a lightning-like flash that burned Fallon’s eyes. They took turns until the glitter was used up, each of them blinking the spots from their visions.
Femke passed out paper glasses with rose-smoked lenses for everyone. “Mirthe and I found these charms during one of our out-of-town trips. They were cheap enough that we bought everyone a pair.”
“Thanks,” Nico said, “but what are they?”
“Anti-rose-colored glasses,” Femke said, slipping them on. “You know how when you’re in love, even Grimbaud’s dirty bathrooms look shiny and perfect? Well, no matter how in love you are, wearing these glasses strips your lovesick sight away and shows you the truth.”
“I imagine this isn’t a popular charm,” Fallon said. When she put on her glasses, the sparkles on the sea dulled and she saw a hole in Sebastian’s shirt collar she hadn’t noticed before. The fact that anything changed while wearing the glasses made her heart quake. She quickly took them off.
“Take a good look, guys,” Mirthe said. “We don’t know it yet, but the charms could be useful in the future. Just remember that we can’t use them unless there’s an emergency. The power wafting off these charms will act as a beacon to Zita’s most ardent followers.”
“Like the police,” Fallon said. “Can you tell me about the pins? They match the color of Zita’s shop.”
“Then you’ve already guessed that Zita’s sunk her nails in them,” Mirthe said proudly. “They turn a blind eye toward her business. They only look into charm-related crimes when the charms used are not love-related. And if someone is causing Zita trouble…”
“Our parents told us that the people working on the police force tend to have awfully nice love fortunes,” Femke said. “A coincidence?”
“We don’t think so.” Mirthe crossed her arms.
Sebastian hadn’t found a charm they could use, but he told them about what the Maeses had said about the opening of Zita’s shop. Only the elderly remembered a time when other love charm-makers worked in Grimbaud, but their memories were hazy as to how and when Zita deftly kicked the other charm-makers out of town. Zita’s reconstruction projects had erased old love charms. Even the belfry once had a charm until the largest bell, on which you planted a kiss for a lasting relationship, had been replaced. Fallon sighed. Robbie and Morgane would have been too late to take advantage of that charm.
The southerly’s presence began to wane. Femke pulled her sweater back on, but Mirthe ignored the weather and slapped her hands on the table. “You’ve all done a great job. In the coming weeks, I advise you to think about the charms we’ve seen and how they may help. We can’t rely on charms to stop Zita, but it’s better to have some ready for peace of mind.”
“In the meantime, we move on to phase two,” Femke said.
Mirthe rubbed her hands together. “If we’re going to pull this off, we’re going to need support.”
“What can we do about that?” Sebastian asked. “The majority of the town loves Zita. Even the people born before her reign prefer having her around.”
“We can’t be the only people in Grimbaud seeking a change,” Nico said. “Maybe we’re braver by actually doing something about it, but it doesn’t mean that everyone else loves her.”
“What kind of support are we talking about?” Hijiri asked.
“Whatever we can get,” Mirthe said. “When we find Zita, I don’t want it to be just us.”
However, the plan still had holes. The biggest problem was finding Zita. No one had seen the woman for years. Extra allies would be beneficial in this matter, especially if they were adults, because they’d have a wider scope to roam the town freely, collecting clues.
“Where do we even start looking?” Sebastian said. “It’s not like we can put an ad in the paper.”
“We have two particular places in mind,” Femke said.
Fallon put on her coat as the last of the southerly slipped away; the coat stayed warm as if it had been baked in the sun. The water frothed underneath the wooden boards, shocking her bare feet.
“The Bachelor and Spinster Villas.”
For a minute, no one spoke. Fallon’s heart thumped in her chest, drowning out the noise of the sea. Just thinking about the Spinster Villas made her ill. “Are you serious?”
The twins raised their eyebrows at the same time. “Why wouldn’t we be?” Mirthe said. “They are the rejects. The people we might become. But they also have every reason to hate Zita.”
Nico shifted in his seat. Hijiri breathed through her mouth. Sebastian looked the most at ease with the news, but Fallon sat close enough to sense him tense beside her.
“Yes, yes, the villas. It’s happening,” Mirthe said. “Anyone have other ideas?”
“What about Hard-boiled Hal?” Fallon said, thinking of Anais’s love for the radio show. “If we can find out who he is, he might be willing to help us.”
“That’s good,” Mirthe said. “Impossible, but good. We’ll be famous for solving the mystery of his identity … if we can.”
Fallon’s teeth started to chatter as the others voiced their ideas. As much as she didn’t want to think about the Spinster Villas, she knew she had an advantage. After all, she worked in the library for Ms. Ward, the youngest spinster in Grimbaud.
chapter 11
KISSING
Fallon found a couple making out in the gardening section. They didn’t stop when she stomped her feet on the carpet. She cleared her throat, but they only changed positions so that the girl’s shoulders pressed painfully against Flowers and You and Weeding for the Ages. The girl clung to her boyfriend fiercely, digging her nails into his blazer. When she thought she saw a flicker of a tongue, Fallon stumbled out of the row in search of help.
Ms. Ward looked up from the computer at the circulation desk. Her eyes narrowed. “Another one?”
Fallon nodded.
The ruffled blouse underneath Ms. Ward’s chin rustled as she got up. She grabbed a newspaper lying on a nearby desk and stalked over to the kissing couple. “The library is not a kis
sing booth!” She smacked the newspaper against the gardening books as a pet owner would train a new puppy. The couple broke apart, snickering, and dodged her as they raced out of the library. “Out! Out! Out!”
The other students in the library had their laugh too, while Ms. Ward’s face flushed bright red. No one seemed sympathetic to the poor librarian. Students weren’t allowed to display affection beyond hand-holding and hugs during school hours. As romantically inclined as Grimbaud was, rules needed to be followed. That included the library, though no one seemed to care.
“That’s the fifth couple this week,” Fallon said as she followed Ms. Ward back to the circulation desk. “What’s going on?”
“This happens every year,” Ms. Ward said. She settled back behind the computer, her face splotchy with embarrassment.
“What do you mean?”
“Think about Zita’s fortunes. You find out the new school year’s fortune in September, go buy whatever charms you need from her shop, and start using them by October. As you know, going to Zita’s shop is off-limits for me,” she said softly, “but I’m willing to bet that one of the charms has to do with the library. Must be cheap too, for so many students to show up here. As if books are only good for pillows.”
“I know,” Fallon said.
“Of course you do,” Ms. Ward said dismissively. “We both have the same problem.”
Fallon had shared her love fortune with the librarian after her first day. Their easy friendship made sense; Fallon was next in line to join the spinsters, if her fortune had any truth to it.
“Can you reshelf these books?” Ms. Ward asked, pointing at a cart stacked with returned books.
“Sure.”
Fallon didn’t enjoy catching the couples either. No matter how many times she saw them, her stomach turned. The worst was when she found them too late, and the couple had gone far beyond kissing. Reflexes dictated that she either shut her eyes or cough up her lunch. She didn’t understand how anyone would think rolling around on a fifty-year-old carpet was a good idea. Luckily, they had yet to catch students with their clothes off, but Ms. Ward had three assistant principals on speed dial, just in case.
Love Fortunes and Other Disasters Page 10
