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the manor,” Eli said, his tone a little whiney.

“Maris has pancakes,” I pointed out.

“Not like Jules’s. I don’t know what magic she uses to make those, but they’re like blueberry-flavored clouds.” His eyes glazed over as he licked his lips, and just thinking about them made my mouth water, too.

“Fine,” I said as he pointed his car toward my place. “We’ll do breakfast at the manor, but we have to go to the Clam at some point so we can test the waters. I want to find out who’s dipping into the till.”

Two minutes later, my phone dinged with an incoming text.

“Well,” I said after reading it, “it looks like it’s a good thing we decided to have breakfast at the manor because that was Dad. We’ve been summoned.”

He glanced at me, confused. My dad was usually a flies-with-honey guy, though he had been known to lay down the law on rare occasions. That he was doing it now was curious. “Summoned?”

I nodded. “Summoned. He said to drop whatever we’re doing and get there, pronto.”

“Weird.” I could see the same worry creeping across his face that was currently curling in my belly. What if the council was there to haul us all off despite what they’d told mom? It wouldn’t be the first time an entire family had just disappeared into thin air because of them. Nah, Mom had said she’d handled it, so I wasn’t going to go there.

When we got to the manor, I was surprised to see everybody’s cars were still there along with a black SUV.

Eli pressed his lips together. “I hope they didn’t eat all the pancakes.”

Of course that’s where his mind would go.

“I’m glad they’re home. I could use some suggestions on the purse.” Sybil had given it to me after Mrs. Hightower had left. Though cleansing dark magic—or any magic—from artifacts was my specialty, I didn’t want to be cocky about it. I’d already gotten a taste of what this curse was like, and I had no doubt that cleansing the purse would be tricker than usual.

“What if that’s somebody from the council?” he asked, worrying his lip as he pulled into his regular parking spot.

“I thought of that,” I said, scowling at him, “but I’d convinced myself Mom had it handled. If you’re worried about it too, though, maybe we’re onto something. Thanks for the huge lump of lead you just put back in my gut.”

He shrugged. “Misery loves company, and I’m about two seconds away from jumping back in my car and heading to Timbuktu.”

“You can’t drive to Timbuktu,” I pointed out as we climbed out of the car.

He cut his eyes at me. “Nobody likes a smarty pants, Sage.”

I shrugged and forced my feet to move one in front of the other toward the house. “Just stating the obvious. Now come on and let’s get this over with.”

An olive-skinned lady sat at the table with Mom, Dad, my brother Connell, and Willow. Jake was nowhere to be seen, which wasn’t surprising considering the time.

“You must be Sage and Eli,” the woman said, standing and reaching her hand across the table.

“Maybe,” Eli said, reaching a tentative hand across the table to clasp hers. “That depends on who you are. I might be her brother Jake, unless he’s in trouble and you’re here to haul him away.”

I rolled my eyes and I reached for her hand. “Yes, we’re Sage and Eli. And you are?”

“Charity Small,” she replied, and I couldn’t help but notice that her smile went all the way to her golden eyes. “Your dad told me you’re dealing with Romani curses and that you could use a hand.”

I glanced toward Dad, who nodded.

“Yes,” I said, the lump in my stomach dispersing like a wisp of smoke. I rose to fill my plate with a stack of pancakes, some scrambled eggs, and several slices of crispy bacon. “We are, and we could. You’re a specialist?”

She nodded as she cut a bite off a sausage link and ran it through the puddle of syrup on her plate. “I’m full-blooded Romani, and my parents are both magical, though not in the way you’re probably used to thinking. But yes, old curses are a specialty of mine, mostly because they fascinate me.”

Eli propped his chin in his hand. “You live here? I have so many questions.”

Since history was his thing, I had no doubt he did. The Romani people were mysterious even in the history books, and I had to admit to being curious, too.

“Do you know about the curses we’re dealing with specifically, or do you just have general knowledge?” I asked, pouring maple syrup over my pancakes.

“Your mom brought me up to speed, and I did some quick research. I did find a record of that incident. The leaders had no idea what some of their people had done until it was too late. There are vague references but no real details about the curses themselves.”

“And do you have experience with breaking curses?”

She smiled. “I have experience with Romani magic. I’ve been taught since I was a child, and my family goes back to ancient times. Our magic is strong. I have faith that I can help you.”

I grinned, relieved that the cavalry had arrived. If she’d passed my parents’ muster, she had to be good. “Then let’s finish our pancakes and get straight to it, then, if that’s okay with you. It just so happens that I’ve recovered our second artifact, and it’s a doozy.”

Charity grinned and I found myself liking her. “I’m ready to get started as soon as we do justice to this breakfast. I’m glad I didn’t have time to eat before I came.”

Thirty minutes later, we were gathered around a table in our garden because Charity said she worked best with nature around her, and also that she didn’t want to blow up anything in the house. I couldn’t tell if she was kidding or not, so I humored her.

“Let’s see it, then,” she said, her eyes

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