Oscar’s green eyes widened. “You’re really that spooked, mistress?”
“Just trying not to act a fool, as my mother used to say. If someone was able to waltz in here and take something from my closet, all bets are off.”
“All right, then,” Oscar said, puffing out his chest. “Let’s go.”
We descended the stairs carefully, keeping our eyes and ears peeled. We had rushed through the store earlier, so now I looked for anything that looked out of place. I flicked on the lights in the back room and the store, but everything seemed as serene as ever. Oscar made a big deal about trotting through all the aisles of the shop floor and investigating behind the mannequins.
I was checking behind the register when I noticed Oscar had opened the door to the mini-fridge.
“Pretty sure no one’s hiding in there, Oscar,” I said.
“You never know,” he said with a quick cackle. “In fact—Wind Spirit.”
“Excuse me?” I went to join him in the back room, and Oscar ran to hide behind my skirts, pointing toward the green linoleum-topped table.
Hiding underneath the table was the witch named Wind Spirit, formerly known as Amy.
Chapter 26
I stroked my medicine bag, assessing the situation. According to Bronwyn, Wind Spirit was a martial arts expert. And if she had been ruthless enough to go after Tristan Dupree, she was more than dangerous—she was homicidal.
Then again, I had Oscar with me. Currently he was cowering behind my skirt, but I’d seen him in action; once Oscar got riled, he was a force to be reckoned with. Still, what if Wind Spirit had a weapon? Her hands were tucked into the pockets of her baby-doll dress, so I couldn’t be sure. Even a gobgoyle couldn’t fend off a speeding bullet.
“Wind Spirit. What are you doing here?” I demanded.
She shook her head, but said nothing.
“Come out from under there, and let’s talk,” I said, trying to keep my tone steady and as light as possible. “What are you looking for? Did you come for the shoe box?”
She continued to stare. I realized her eyes looked hollow, as blank as those of the “Sailor” who wasn’t actually my fiancé. A shiver ran down my spine.
“Are you . . . are you the doppelg?nger?”
She shook her head again and jumped out and up from under the table. Now I was sure. It was Wind Spirit, and yet not Wind Spirit. Her face looked like her, but she seemed much smaller than she had before. It was confusing, disorienting to see her like this.
She moved slowly, lurching toward us, her movements jerky, as though her muscles were rusty or out of practice. Oscar and I stumbled back another couple of steps. I could hear my familiar mumbling: “Gack! She’s like the Mummy!”
Yes, she was creepy, but I thought of what Aidan had said: Maybe the doppelg?nger had chased me all over Chinatown because he’d been trying to communicate.
“Amy!” I yelled. I never could get used to her new name. “Stop, and talk to me. Tell us what you want.”
And then I remembered the boy in the Chinatown apothecary telling us that the supposed “Sailor” didn’t—couldn’t?—speak. I grabbed Selena’s drawing pad and pencils, and handed them to the “Amy,” who was still clumsily moving forward.
As she reached out to take them, I noticed something shiny tinkled on her bracelet. It was the little silver bell charm Amy had given to Selena.
Just then I saw a silverfish scurry past Amy’s foot. I followed its path to the old shoe box, sitting open under the table. It crawled inside.
“Selena?” Oscar said.
When I looked up, “Amy” had become Selena. Tears poured down her cheeks, and she was furiously writing on her drawing pad: I’M SELENA!!!!! DON’T KILL ME!!!!!
“Selena?” I said, relief warring with anger in my chest. “What in the world . . . ?”
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I just wanted to see what all the fuss was about.”
“How did you even know about the box, or where to find it?”
She flipped the pages on her drawing pad to show me a sketch of the box sitting on a shelf in my closet.
“I told you, I see things sometimes. I don’t know why. It’s not like I ask for it. I could tell it was your closet because of the old green suitcase. That’s the only place I’ve ever seen one like that.”
“Do you mean to tell me you’re running through the streets of San Francisco at this hour, breaking into my shop, and my apartment, and stealing things from my closet?”
She exchanged a guilty glance with Oscar. He shrugged in response, as if to say,“She’s got a point.”
“When you put it like that, I guess it sounds pretty bad,” said Selena, twisting her mouth. “But nobody tells me anything, except for weird things like ‘Don’t trust Sailor if he comes around,’ even though Sailor’s supposed to be part of the family. It’s confusing.”
“That’s no excuse, young lady.”
“Also, these bugs are silver, and I love silver. But I accidentally stepped on one. He’s okay, though. He crawled back into the box.”
“And when you stepped on the bug, you changed?”
“I couldn’t talk, and I felt funny, and you started calling me Amy, and then I saw my reflection in the chrome of the table leg, and then I sort of freaked out. It wasn’t me.”
I blew out a long breath. Now that my heartbeat was returning to normal, relief was winning out over anger. In fact, the situation was starting to feel pretty funny. But still. I was the grown-up.
“Does your grandmother know where you are?”
“I told her I was sleeping over here so I could help you move things tomorrow.”
“Let me see the charm Wind Spirit gave to you.”
She held out her slender wrist, and I clasped the charm and tried to feel for vibrations. Nothing felt off, or strange. Probably it was pure chance that Selena had taken Amy’s image for a moment, since she was wearing something that had once belonged to Wind Spirit.
“All right, let’s go upstairs and get some dinner. But this isn’t the end of this. I’m going to give your grandmother a call and we’re going to talk about you lying, and stealing, and sneaking out at night—you hear me?”
She nodded, eyes downcast. I noticed a small smile on her face, and looked to see Oscar aping me from behind.
“Oscar,” I said, “you are not helping the situation.”
They both cracked up.
I couldn’t help but smile along with them as I grabbed the shoe box and my mail, turned off the lights, and shepherded my two unrepentant wards up the stairs.
“Hey, Selena, guess what,” Oscar said. “Lasagna for dinner! And after, we’re gonna make cookies!”
“Cool!” said Selena.
It was always dangerous to solicit Oscar and Selena’s help making cookies. Odds were good not much of the actual batter would wind up as cooked cookies. Still, there were always more chips where those came from, and I had another night to bake before the tea, if need be. The truth was, if I couldn’t have Sailor by my side, I could use a mellow evening with my familiar and Selena, just being normal. Or what passed as normal for the likes of us.
As I followed them into the apartment, I sorted through the pile of mail and phone messages. Bills, advertisements, a postcard from the Grand Canyon sent by Graciela.
And the note from Maya:
Hey boss lady,
I don’t know if this is what you’re looking for, but the Da Pinchi Code sign was taken from an ancient mark known to have been a witch’s sign, in a town not far from Salem, during the witch hunts. It seems to be connected to a woman who was burned at the stake, which was actually very unusual back then—most were hung. Her name was Deliverance Corydon.
So much for my hopes for a normal evening.
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