Page 62 of The Queen's Box

“Again? But that’s what you said yesterday!”

“Magic is delicate. There are rites I must observe first—preparations that require time and reverence.”

“But... the Box,” Willow said. She glanced at Cole, who clenched his jaw. The hostility he radiated toward Amira made even Willow feel intimidated.

Amira propelled them across the threshold. “Tomorrow,” she said again. She threw Cole a quick dismissive glance, then looked at Willow with raised brows. “And this time, come alone.”

Willow’s body seemed weightless as Cole guided her back along the darkening trail. Was it twilight already? How was that possible?

Then again, how was any of this possible?

Maybe all her assumptions about what was and wasn’t possible should be set free like doves, allowed to go where they wanted and land where they chose.

The silence between Willow and Cole felt strained. He despised Amira—that was clear. No doubt he was frustrated with Willow for not buying wholesale into his opinion of her. But Willow had the sneaking suspicion something else was troubling him as well. He wasn’t—

No. It was too silly. Cole wasn’t jealous ofSerrin. How ridiculous that would be!

Brooxie and Ruby’s house smelled of baking cornbread, an aroma she’d grown to love. Tonight, however, it filled her with longing for other comfort-food smells. Her mother’s parmesan chicken. The crescent-shaped moon cookies Juniper made, bright and lemony and dusted with powdered sugar.

She greeted the sisters, then slipped away, murmuring something about needing to make a quick call.

At the end of the hall, next to the staircase that led to the root cellar, an old rotary phone sat on a wobbly table. Willow lifted the receiver and dialed the familiar numbers with a trembling finger.

“Hello?” Juniper said breezily.

Willow teared up instantaneously. “Juniper. Hi,” she managed. “It’s me.”

“Willow? Wait, really?” Juniper’s voice jumped high. “How are you?Whereare you? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Willow said, though the tightness in her throat made the words squeak. “How are you? And Cricket—is she okay? Have you been taking care of her?”

“Of course, but she misses you like crazy, especially at night. She prowls the house looking for you, meowing a weird, sad meow. When are you coming home?”

“I don’t know. But Junie—I have something important to tell you. It’s going to sound strange, but please, just listen.”

“Okaaay,” said Juniper. “What’s going on?”

Willow let out a strangled laugh. That was not a question that could be answered in a single phone call. She didn’t even want to try. No, what she needed to tell Juniper had to do with the visions she’d been shown in the scrying bowl. Not the one with Willow-on-the-telephone—in that vision, Amira had somehow been pulling the strings—but the long-ago day she’dbeen transported to, with Juniper in the backyard... and the egg...

She launched in, recounting all the details she could remember. The fireflies. The smear of egg mucus on Juniper’s chin. Juniper widening her eyes and saying,Am I magic now?

“Wait, slow down,” Juniper interrupted. “I remember all of that. Of course. But... why are you bringing it up now?”

“I don’t know,” Willow said truthfully. “But it’s important. Don’t stop, okay? Don’t stop believing in magic.”

“Okay. I’ll try. But . . .”

“What?”

“Pleasedon’t take this the wrong way. But Willow? You sound kind of unhinged.”

“Juniper.Junie.” Willow forced a laugh. “I’m not unhinged, you silly goose.”

A man’s voice cut in. “Juniper, is that Willow? Hand me the phone. Hand it to me now.”

It was their father demanding the phone.

Willow panicked and slammed the receiver down.

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