Page 12 of The Hocus Pocus Handbook

“It would be helpful if you shared that information.” Even when I try to sound reassuring, I come across as gruff.

At least, I suspect that’s true from her audible gulp. Then she squares her shoulders and lifts her chin, making eye contact. “You didn’t get this from me, yeah?”

“Understood. To be frank, I don’t even know your name, so I wouldn’t be able to provide that intelligence to anyone who inquired.”

That seems to soothe her, and her tension eases. “Right. Well, someone I know who was in the serving hall said it was a fachan! But how in the world did the beast get past all the guards and wind up running wild?”

“An excellent question. I appreciate the information.”

As we pass through the palace, I notice that the damage appears to be largely cosmetic. Someone wanted the compound on high alert, but not to mount an offensive. A fachan qualifies as an excellent diversion, and it allowed the Summer delegation to slip away in the confusion.

“Did they catch the creature?” I inquire.

She shakes her head. “It disappeared, along with those bigwig guests. People can’t just vanish, can they?”

“Not usually,” I agree.

It is possible. With the right preparation. And if someone like me isn’t tasked with finding the lost. Thoughtful, I let the silence stand, analyzing the information I’ve acquired. An illusory fachan, perhaps, with agents judiciously placed to create physical evidence of its passage? That would have provided cover for the real escape. Even if Liskaal has come to the same conclusion, he won’t view the situation as I do. He’ll see this as a subtle statement that Summer has no intention of withdrawing their claim on Winter’s border.

The brownie leads me to the lord and lady’s private chambers. “Here we are. Good luck to you.”

That is a curious thing to say. I knock twice and wait, turning to watch her scurry away before their attendant opens the door. He is high fae, beautiful in the manner many are, with perfect features, pointed ears, pale skin, and ink-dark hair. His eyes are like silver pools, reflecting nothing. And he is clad head to toe in their colors, his fitted uniform white and silver, showing every line of his body.

He makes a sweeping gesture to invite me in. “You’re expected. The Lord and Lady of Winter are wrapping up in the throne room. They will speak with you presently.”

I keep my face still, suppressing instinctive scorn. Such absolute self-aggrandizement—they rushed me to arrive when they’re not even here to receive me. It feels like the ultimate in posturing. They never stop posing, those two, so enamored with their own importance that they can’t see the moving forest for the trees.

There’s a human story, written by some famous bard, about how a noble house will fall when the forest comes for them. I’ve forgotten the particulars, but yes, these two will never realize what’s happening—that I’ve cut all the cords—until it’s too late. All I need to do is play my role for a little longer.

Even if compliance burns like fire.

7

A Spell for Succor and Sustenance

Even cooking can be magical. It should be, in fact. Kitchen spells needn’t be complicated. The simplest of spells can bring the greatest joy. This one can be tailored by changing out the spicing herbs and the type of ingredients. Without further ado, I’ll share the working I use to cheer you up when you’ve had a rough go.

You’ll require:

One silver spoon

A copper cauldron

A sizable piece of bloodstone

Generous amounts of cinnamon, allspice, and ginger

You’ll need other ingredients for best results. You could drink it as a tonic, using only water, but it wouldn’t be filling, and magic can’t create nutrition from nothing. We can create only the illusion of fullness, and that can have wicked consequences. Feckless mortals have starved on glamoured fae food, never realizing they were eating air. When I cook for you, my gem, this spell adds the warmth and satisfaction you experience, whether it’s a bit of cracked barley or a handful of rolled oats. It’ll be even better if you have a little fruit or some nuts. Having both makes for an exceptional outcome.

Use the bloodstone as your cooking surface, and funnel energy until it’s good and hot. Set the cauldron on top, then add your ingredients: grain, water, nuts, fruit. Allow it to heat while focusing your will, funneling your love and good wishes into the pot along with the spices. You can speak the spell if you wish, though I usually don’t. If I do, it’ll be, “Let this food bless and nourish my darling girl. Let it serve as fuel for all the wondrous things she’ll do, and let her feel my love in every bite.” I’d be honored if one day you used this spell for me, but it’ll serve well wherever you roam.

Thea

It is so flipping dark.

When I rouse, I cannot be certain how long I’ve been out, and I feel weak, but anger sizzles in the air around me, tingling on my skin. Without meaning to, I lift my head and feast, silently drinking in the blazing wrath that Lord Liskaal disperses as he paces. This ability is probably why I—and others—survive here in the Winter Court. I take a situation from explosive to volatile and from volatile to salvageable, simply by existing.

The Lord of Winter glares at the courtiers and guardsmen assembled before him. “An unmitigated debacle, and for once, Thea had nothing to do with it!”