Page 39 of Witch You Would

We even managed to tag-team watching out for sabotage. Nobody got close to our spell without one of us noticing, especially

not Felicia. I deployed my full retail can I help you with something? smile like a shield on Syd; Gil turned an almost-touch from Doris Twist into an adorable juggling act. Even when I explained

what we were doing for the judges, I made sure they were standing several feet away from the casting circle Gil had drawn.

We weren’t taking any chances.

By the time we wrapped for the day, both of us were exhausted, but all the pinatas were finished, and the raw materials had

been prepped for the surprises inside. We’d even made extras and hidden them in a cabinet, just in case.

Dinner was short and sweet, all of us eating like machines and commiserating in vague terms about the day’s struggles. Dylan

had gotten a steam burn on his arm while making some kind of jam filling. Leandro had slipped on a piece of chalk and fallen

on his back, ending up with flour all over his face—the fall was fake, the flour was real. No accidents for me, but my hands

were raw in places from cutting paper for the pinatas. Gil claimed he had a lotion for that in his room, so we went to get

it and spent way longer than we should have saying good night.

I slept better than I had in weeks.

Breakfast went faster than dinner. I scarfed eggs and toast while Gil made us both coffee to go. He waggled his eyebrows at me as he stuffed a banana in his pocket. I suggestively bit into a sausage, then realized that was not a sexy thing to do. Whatever, he laughed.

Round three, part two. Caffeinated, skin clear, crops watered, we matched in black, white, and orange today. Halloween apron

for me, big flowers and random geometric shapes for him. Seriously, what were people thinking in the ’70s?

First, we had to enchant a metric shit-ton of leather cord and a bowl of beads. The supply room had glass, wood, metal, and

ceramic options, and we’d gone for the metal ones because they were more durable and would probably hold the enchantment better.

“This is going to work, right?” I asked.

“Law of synecdoche,” Gil said, finishing the last line of a rune. “The spell will stay in the cord even after you cut it.”

“I swear someone in a video said this was how they did it, but maybe my memory is—”

“The principle is good. It’ll be fine. Trust the magic, and the magic will trust you.”

Why did that sound familiar... “Did you just quote Alan Kazam at me?”

Gil grinned. “He knows what’s up. Come on, let’s get this done.”

We joined hands and chanted, letting our intent and energy pulse into the circle at our feet. Wisps of my hair floated around

my face, and tingles went up and down my arms, pooling where my fingers were twined in Gil’s. A dim glow filled the runes

and other figures, gradually seeping into the center of the diagram, then rising like a heat shimmer. Our chant reached its

peak, and the spooled leather cord sucked in all the magic like a vacuum. The light faded, my hair settled, but we kept holding

hands as we knelt down to examine our work.

“Feels right,” Gil said.

“I think so,” I agreed. “Now, the beads.”

Those needed a different spell, so we stowed the cord, wiped away the chalk lines, and got ready to start a new circle. We

took a quick lunch break first, Gil threatening me with the banana when I was mid-drink. I almost spewed soda out my nose.

“Malo!” I gasped.

“So you don’t want my banana?” he asked innocently.

I put my drink down and reached for the bag of powdered chalk we used for the thick outer line of our circle. Dipping a finger

in, I swiped some and aimed it menacingly at Gil.

“What are you—” he started to ask.

I drew a line of chalk down his nose. His eyes lit up and he went for the bag, which I tried to keep away from him. We wrestled

and he got it away from me, grabbing a pinch and dragging it down the side of my face. Back and forth we went, until we were

throwing puffs of chalk at each other as we circled our station, cracking up.

“Having fun, kids?” Syd asked. “Or is this all part of a spell?”

I don’t know how I looked, but Gil had chalk smeared and splattered all over his black fake-silk shirt, and his mustache was

dusted white like he was trying to make himself look older.

“Very important spell,” Gil said.

I sneezed violently.

“Don’t let me interrupt you,” Syd said, and then they tossed a handful of confetti at both of us.

After I’d cleaned up the mess with a push broom, Gil and I worked on our second circle.

This one required more of a mandala-like form, somewhere between Dee’s mystic heptagram and Cosmati mosaics, so the beads could be incorporated into the design.

It took forever to draw correctly since we had to use sand, in multiple colors.

By the time it was done, my thighs burned and my lower back ached super bad.

It worked, though. We enchanted the beads, which seemed to take the magic without any trouble. Then it was time for me to

step up. And sit down, thank goodness.

We cut the leather cord into strips, which I laid out in groups, along with five beads each. So many beads. I threaded them

onto the leather, then slowly, carefully, wound the multiple cords together to form a single bracelet. Each one had a pair

of slipknots so they would be adjustable, with the beads in between.

“Test it?” Gil asked.

I nodded, so nervous I couldn’t talk.

Gil slid the bracelet onto my wrist and tightened it. So far, so good. I held my hand out with my palm down and took a deep

breath. Then I turned my wrist so my palm faced up and said, “Presto!”

A burst of colored lights, like fireworks, exploded a few inches above my hand with a quiet popping noise. Another followed,

then another, one per bead. After the fifth went off, they faded in a shower of sparkles.

“It worked!” I shrieked.

Gil laughed and grabbed my hands, and we jumped up and down like happy kids. I didn’t even have to ask if it was secret handshake

time. We spun into our dance, going longer than before, adding extra twirls for each of us before we blew it up. And this

time, I once again yelled, “Presto!” and let the actual fireworks from the bracelet end the dance.

I wanted to kiss him. I couldn’t kiss him. Not on camera. Oh, this fake flirting had gotten so much harder.

We weren’t done yet. We still had to finish the bracelets, put them inside their pinata boxes. The judges might not be impressed, might think they were silly or childish. But we loved them, and we’d had fun making them, and that was worth whatever might come next.

The first few were awkward, but I found my rhythm. Gil stuffed them into their pinatas as quickly as I made them, sealing

the papier-mache containers with a quick murmured incantation since they were already primed.

About eight bracelets in, from the other side of the room, a loud crackle of staticky noise was followed by two voices yelling

at the same time. One said, “Sugar!” and the other said something that sounded like “farkleberry”? Gil and I raced around

the side of our station to see what had happened.

A platter of what looked like tiny radios steamed in the center of an elaborate circle of candles and mirrors. Knowing Dylan

and Zeke, the radios were probably edible. They were also making weird hisses and squeals that made me want to stick my fingers

in my ears.

Syd marched over, eyebrows jammed together like they were worried. Nate followed, camera rolling.

“Hey, guys,” Syd said. “What seems to have happened?”

“It looks like something went wrong with the sonic enchantment,” Zeke said. “I dunno, we gotta check some things.”

“Will you have time to recast it?” Syd asked.

Dylan’s dark skin looked grayish, his lips almost gone because he was pressing them together so hard. Zeke didn’t answer,

just shrugged.

Felicia had stopped what she was doing to watch the drama.

Had she messed with their spell? She didn’t look happy, or satisfied, or whatever I might have expected if her evil plans had worked.

In stead, she seemed . . . worried? She went back to her work, which involved pouring herbs into small cloth bags I’d watched her sew the day before.

I wondered what they did, magically speaking.

Charlotte hadn’t even looked up. I wished I could be that focused.

I had to be, because I still had to make a lot of bracelets.

But unlike the other rounds, where spells had collapsed or exploded during the presentation at the end, there was still—I

checked the clock—two and a half hours before time was up. My instinct to fix, to help, started a luchador wrestling match

with my need to finish our work first.

“You’re dying to figure out what went wrong,” Gil murmured.

I was. “I shouldn’t...”

“The person who called every botánica in Miami and Broward to find a reagent for a stranger is going to just let that go,

hmm?”

Fine. “Ten minutes. Come and get me if I take longer.”

“As mew wish, m’lady.”

I’d be back sooner if they didn’t want my help. Still, I had to try.

Gil took up a guard spot at the edge of our station as I crossed to where Dylan and Zeke were talking quietly. Fabienne watched

me with a raised eyebrow.

“Hey,” I said. “Do you guys want a hand?”

“We got it,” Zeke said, rubbing his shaved head. The batch of tiny radios squealed as if to disagree.

“Are you sure?” I asked. “I’m pretty good at spell fixes.”

Dylan nudged Zeke’s shoulder. “She’s legit. It’s worth a shot.”

After a quick look at their recipe, I couldn’t see anything wrong.

Just like Amy’s. Asking whether Felicia had messed with their stuff was pointless; it had to be fixed either way.

Unfortunately the music enchantment had been cast into the wet ingredients before the tiny cake radios were assembled, so they’d need an entirely different approach.

“What about candy antennas?” I asked. “You could enchant those and stick them on.”

Dylan shook his head. “Not enough time for the spell to cook.”