Page 30 of Magic Betrayed

We waited there for a moment, tense with anticipation, as the blinking light finally emerged from the darkness and came to a stop at our feet…

I shot Callum a disbelieving glance. “Is this really happening?”

It was a robot vacuum. And sitting atop the vacuum was a porcelain doll with long golden ringlets, wide creepy eyes, and a folded piece of paper taped to her hand.

“I’ve had about enough of this shop of horrors,” I muttered as Callum retrieved the note and unfolded it.

“Congratulations,” he read. “You are foolish enough to meet me, but smart enough to survive. Know that this is only a fraction of my capabilities, and I can ensure your silence at any time. If you still wish to consult, proceed to the end of the path. The door is open.”

We eyed each other, and Callum raised an eyebrow. “Still don’t want me to go first?”

“Oh, I’ve definitely changed my mind.”

A laugh rumbled from his chest as he stepped around the horrifying doll and took another step. Then another. I followed close at his heels, sensing the pressure of eyes from somewhere—andreallydisliking the darkness behind us—but feeling like we had no choice but to keep going.

To my surprise, we arrived at our destination without further incident and found the door mentioned in the note.

“You ready?” Callum reached for the doorknob.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

He tugged it open.

We peered through the doorway, then stood side by side, blinking in mingled shock and disorientation.

It was as if we’d fallen through a portal and ended up in another world—a world of warm yellow light pouring out of a cozy sitting room, complete with floral chintz couches, embroidered pillows, and a startling number of lamps. The walls were lined with shelves containing china teacups, porcelain figurines, and… dolls. More dolls, in all imaginable sizes—a sea of frozen eyes that somehow seemed to be staring directly into my soul.

And on one side of this perplexing scene was a horseshoe desk overflowing with monitors. There were monitors on the wall, wires and cables taped to the floor and the ceiling, and a stack of unwashed teacups shoved to the edge of the desk. And in the rolling chair that turned slowly to face us…

“Hello, dears. Welcome to my office.”

It was… someone’s grandma.

If I could have drawn a picture of the essential nature of Grandma-ness, it would have looked exactly like this woman. She was perhaps in her early seventies, with white hair gathered in a tidy bun atop her head. Gold wire-rim glasses perched on the end of her nose, and she gazed over them out of twinkling blue eyes. Her cheeks were pink, and her hands were wrinkled, and she was wearing a cardigan embroidered with birds. Acardigan.

“Tell me you have a cat,” I blurted out.

Her sweet grandma smile widened. “Would you like tea and gingerbread cookies with your cat?”

There was no way I was eating anything this woman fed me.

“Oh, don’t look like that, dear. I only poison people on Tuesdays.”

“It’s Tuesday,” Callum noted, a slight smile curving his lips.

“Is it?” A comical expression of surprise widened those blue eyes. “How the time does fly. I suppose I was too busy raiding with my grandchildren. They live in New Zealand, so I do tend to get my days and nights mixed up from time to time.”

She bounded up from her chair with far too much energy for a woman of her age. “Come and sit. Tell me what you’re looking for, and I’ll see if I can help you.” Her sideways glance held a hint of warning. “Though the price may change based on the difficulty, legality, or the traceability of the search.”

“I would expect no less.” Callum seemed to have regained his equilibrium, while I was still floundering around looking for mine. “And thank you for agreeing to meet with us.”

“No thanks necessary at the price we agreed upon.” She winked, then indicated one of the chintz couches with a wave of her perfectly manicured hand. “And please, call me Grandma Pearl. Now, what do you have for me?”

I fumbled in the pocket of my jeans for my clumsy drawing. “We need to find this van.” I smoothed out the wrinkles and handed it to her. “A white one, no rear windows, with this logo on the side in blue and gray.”

She sat down across from us and adjusted her glasses to peer at the drawing more closely.

“We want to know who got in it and where it went.”

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