Page 13 of Magical Mischief

Or I just desperately believed that was how it worked.

Soft light danced across my companions' faces, each reflecting my mix of apprehension and determination.

Even Twobble, with his characteristic irreverence, had grown uncharacteristically solemn. This was, after all, the spell that could help locate my father.

If it worked, we’d have a lead on where Frank was being held. If it failed, we’d be lost again, stumbling in the dark, and probably falling into Gideon’s trap.

“Should we start?” I asked, swallowing the lump in my throat.

My voice sounded smaller than I expected.

Stella reached across the table and squeezed my hand.

“We’ve got you, and you’ve got this,” she said softly. “Trust your magic.”

“This is it.” I pushed the book to Nova to take a look.

She gently turned the pages to silently read the words that would bring us to my dad.

I leaned closer, quietly reading the archaic language under my breath. My hands trembled, but a reassuring warmth radiated from Miora, who stood behind me.

Keegan cleared his throat as his gaze fastened to mine. “You’ve accomplished more than any witch I’ve met in a very short amount of time. Don’t let doubt seep into your bones.”

His belief in me sparked a flicker of confidence deep within my chest.

Outside, the wind picked up, rattling the shutters in a way that might have unnerved me on any other night. Snow fell outside as I focused on the courage I needed to find my dad.

The newly restored walls gleamed with the hush of fresh protection, Miora’s stonework so seamless it was hard to believe we’d nearly lost this place in the last twenty-four hours.

“We’ll need a circle for this,” Nova said, pulling out a slender piece of chalk. “It’s moon chalk.”

“What’s moon chalk?” I asked, genuinely curious.

“I make it at the store. I create a mixture from eggshells, gypsum, and salt and let the moon’s rays penetrate it. This will bind our power and intention and allow for greater benefits once the spell is cast correctly.”

“No pressure,” I said, chuckling.

Nova stepped around the table, moving chairs aside and marking a wide ring on the wooden floor.

Her strokes were confident and expansive.

“It’s glowing,” I said softly.

“That’s from the moonlight. This batch is especially potent since I made it during Yule. The incantation references a ringof unity, a space in which no illusions can hide, and we need a shifter to keep the energy intact.” She eyed Keegan. “And one from blood, you.”

Keegan nodded and stepped forward.

I tried for a smile, but my gaze drifted to the battered tome again.

I could not screw this up.

The text spoke of capturing the essence of a lost shifter, almost like a tenuous thread we could follow across vast distances. The problem was that it required a piece of my father’s spirit to tether onto it, and it could snap as quickly as it was strung.

“Here,” Stella said quietly, producing a small silver tag from her pocket.

I recognized it instantly from my dad’s old collar as my brows cinched together. “It’s his rabies tag.”

Twobble chuckled and shook his head. “Can the man not have a little dignity here? Why not the address tag, Stella? Why the rabies tag? It reminds us all that Frank is…well, a little indisposed.”