He gave me his back. Didn’t even chitter. Just turned and started messing around with a sprig of rosemary.

“I don’t have any other jobs today, but I need to stop by Wicked to talk to Bronwyn, and I’m dropping some charms off at Beau’s and a couple other places. Would you like to accompany me?”

A blip of a chitter. A shoulder shrug. A sprig twirl.

“We can stop by the market on the way home and pick up some Four Lokos and another container of raspberries to replace the ones I dropped.” I offered this, knowing full well he was powerless to resist fresh fruit and sugary malt beverages. “You’ll have to keep out ofsight around humans, but I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know.”

He spun around, his purple hat bouncing up and down. His version of an enthusiastic nod.

“Pace yourself, though. We’re partying on Gladys’s porch tonight. We don’t want things to get rowdy.”

Cecil snickered.

“Okay, fine. We don’t want things to getbadrowdy,” I said. “I think we could all use a little good rowdy in our lives.”

Chapter

Three

Midmorning, I changed out of my swimsuit and into my dry jeans and a Donna Summer T-shirt I’d rediscovered in Mom’s dresser after moving in.

I hadn’t donated all her things after she’d passed. I’d kept her beloved seventies and eighties concert tees and some jewelry I hadn’t been able to part with.

Good thing, since that jewelry and furniture now made up seventy-five percent of what I owned. Rebuilding my possessions would take time, and I was allowed to mourn my losses, but I was lucky I’d had Mom’s place to fall back on.

I grabbed my purse and keys and the tote bag I’d packed with deliveries and headed outside.

Because I’d only worked in the garden room so far today, I took a moment to slide my fingers into the soil outside mom’s—my—cottage and tap into the power there.

Magic hit me in a quick, sharp snap, similar to walking across carpet and touching a light switch. A little sting followed by a sweet, warm power that thrummed just beneath my skin.

Finally, after three long and lonesome years of silence, I wasconnecting with the soil beneath the park. Was the connection as strong as before? No. But it was evident, and I was no longer being drained when I reached for the magic in the earth here.

“Thank you,” I whispered, as I scooped fresh dirt into the bag I’d taken to carrying with me, the same one I’d used at the mayor’s place today. “I’m so grateful.”

The minerals in the soil glowed dimly. It wasn’t the Roman candle brightness I wanted, but it was persistent. And it continued even after I withdrew my hand.

It would grow stronger over time. I believed that.

Ihadto believe that.

The soil lifted into the air, vaporized, and absorbed into my skin. I took a moment to revel in it then tucked the bag of dirt into my back pocket and headed for my orange Mini Cooper in the parking lot.

Cecil buckled himself into Fennel’s booster seat on the passenger side and peered out the window. If he didn’t move too much, people would assume he was a doll. Or a grizzled schnauzer.

Hopefully.

“Thanks for the suggestion to use soil instead of salt for the containment circle this morning. I definitely felt a power difference.”

Cecil looked away. Sniffed. Shrugged.

I switched on the radio, smiling when Cecil chittered along with “Rapper’s Delight” by The Sugarhill Gang.

“How about we pick up a couple of lavender scones before we head into La Paloma?”

Cecil sat up, his purple hat flopping sideways. He seemed genuinely excited to be out of the garden room. I’d brought him with me on other jobs, even one very stealthy Alpha Floyd sabotage job, but I didn’t do it often.

There was a reason for that.