34

The sign told Ophelia everything she needed to know about how Kasarah’s nickel had ended up here.

Lemonade $1.

Beside it was a drawing of a lumpy yellow potato with freckles. The poster leaned up against a red wagon as rusted as the white car that just passed. In the wagon’s bed stood an orange cooler named Igloo and a bag full of supplies. Two bikes, neither of them purple, were piled beside it.

Behind all this, two kids sat cross-legged in the grass, pulling it up, blade by blade.

“Go slow,” Ophelia whispered. “Try not to let them see you.”

Sam slunk through a swath of chest-high weeds, taking his sneakiest steps and keeping his snout shut for once. Ophelia didn’t want to scare the children off, or even alert them to her presence. Not before she’d thoroughly assessed the situation.

One thing was certain. The wish was here. She could hear it loud and clear.

“Get down,” Ophelia said when she felt like they were close enough. Sam pressed his belly to the ground. Ophelia slipped off and peered through the curtain of thistle and tall grass at the makeshift stand on the other side of the road and the children manning it. A boy and a girl. The girl was clearly the younger of the two. She wore a jacket, a green one with lots of pockets. Ophelia had seen that jacket before. She recognized the yellow sundress underneath as well, with the ribbons to match. She took a long look at the boy’s face.

She’d seen them both before.

Anna. Her name is Anna. And his is Gabe.

The boy had obviously given his jacket to his sister—it was much too big for her—and now wore a black T-shirt that had US Marines printed across the chest. He also wore boots not too different from Ophelia’s. A clear plastic bag full of money, most of it change, sat at his feet.

The bag was glowing.

She couldn’t tell what the kids were saying from this far away, but the girl lunged for the bag and the boy pulled it just out of reach. When the girl pouted, the boy said something else and her face brightened instantly, stretching into a smile as long as the road. She wrapped both arms around him and he playfully pushed her away, then looked up at the sky and frowned.

Ophelia never expected to see that frown again, yet there it was.

Kismet. That’s what the Mystics would say. Magic flows in circles. Follow its path long enough and you’ll come back to where you started. Perhaps, Ophelia thought. Maybe. She’d seen magic do some pretty wondrous things, after all.

Or maybe the man in the striped shirt was just thirsty and wanted some lemonade.

The boy stood up, tucking the bag of coins and bills down the front of his shirt, presumably to keep it safe. Instinctively Ophelia’s own hand reached to the vial of dust hanging around her neck.

“Do they have your wish?” Sam growled softly from behind her.

Ophelia nodded.

“So what do we do now?”

She didn’t like her options. They were just kids. If Sam ran up to them barking his head off, it could scare them to death. She could spray them, of course, but then what? Leave two children unconscious by the side of the road where just anybody could find them? Could she trust humans to do the right thing, to stop and get help?

She couldn’t. She didn’t want to frighten the children, either, and Kasarah’s coin was tricky to get to at the moment. She needed to think of something quickly, though. The kids were packing up. The little girl was already getting on her bicycle, and her brother was busy securing the handle of the wagon to the back of his own bike with a length of rope. Children were unpredictable. Some of them saw what they weren’t supposed to. It would be better if she could get the nickel without them knowing. Take it while they weren’t even looking. The boy mounted his bicycle now and was already starting back up the road, away from town, his sister pedaling behind him. Sam looked up at Ophelia expectantly.

“Okay,” she said. “Now we chase—but quietly. We keep our distance and wait for a better opportunity.” Ophelia looked at the sun off to her right, starting to paint the sky.

There was still time, she told herself.

Besides, there was something else that gave her pause, even beyond the fact that Kasarah’s coin had found its way here (though that still nagged her too). It was something about the boy. Ophelia was no Mystic; most of the time she couldn’t read a creature’s aura if it was spelled out for her in flashing neon letters blinking above their heads. But even from far away she could sense this. A dark spot. A longing that seemed to follow the boy like a gray cloud.

That didn’t make him dangerous. No more dangerous than the lady with her broom or the Red Shirts with their leashes. But it did make her curious about him, and that made her wary. Because she couldn’t afford any more distractions. He was an obstacle. Just one more thing standing in her way.

But not for long. She waited until they had a far enough lead.

“C’mon,” she told Sam. “And don’t let that wagon out of your sight.”