Although it occurred to Iris, not for the first time, that Witchworld was the one truly “safe” place to be a witch. The world seemed to be fine with witches as long as they were fictional.
“Lollllllli! Lolli McScuffle Pants!”
“Shut up, Nee-Nee. I can’t hear my movie!”
Nyala and Ephrem were yelling and fighting downstairs. Sighing, Iris typed an AFK (away from keyboard) status, paused the music, and rose from her desk chair. Mom was working at the diner with Grandma Roseline, which meant that Iris was officially in charge, i.e., she had no choice but to intervene in this battle. Stepping over a pile of yesterday’s (or last week’s?) clothes, she trotted down the carpeted stairs.
“But that doesn’t mean I wasn’t brave,” she sang under her breath. “Oh yeah, ooo-ooo, la la la la la la… I’m glaaad no one can hear me siiinging… oh yeah…”
Her siblings were in the living room. Ephrem was sitting about six inches from the TV set—which was playing Jake and the Neverland Pirates, one of his favorite shows—and slurping from a grape juice box. Nyala was on her hands and knees, peering under the ancient brown corduroy couch.
“Hey, guys, what’s up? Ephrem, that’s way too close to the TV.”
“She’s bothering me!” Ephrem exclaimed, pointing a stubby finger at Nyala. His lips were ringed with purple juice.
Nyala glared at Iris over her shoulder. “Lolli’s missing. Did you take her?”
“Um, no? Why would I take your pet mouse?”
“’Cuz you would, jerkface.”
“Do not call me that. Seriously, what happened? When did you see her last?”
“I was cleaning out her cage, so I put her in a little shoe box with the rest of my banana from lunch, but now she’s not there anymore and what if she’s dead? What if Oliver P. and Maxina ate her?”
“Cool!” Ephrem said excitedly.
“Shut up, you stupid brat!” Nyala shouted.
“Guys! Okay. Plan. Nyala, check and make sure Lolli’s not in the bathroom, then put Oliver P. and Maxina in there and close the door. You can lure them in with the cat treats—there’s some in the kitchen drawer with the Tupperware lids. Ephrem, stay here and watch another episode of Jake and, um, keep an eye open for Lolli.” With the tiny creature loose, Iris didn’t trust her clumsy little brother not to accidentally step on her if he moved from his spot. “I’ll search the rest of the house. Everybody watch where you walk.”
“What if Lolli’s already squashed?” Nyala wailed.
“She’s not. Calm down, okay? I’m going now; you guys have your orders.”
Retracing her steps out of the living room, Iris looked right and left and down (and even up—what if Lolli was a climber?). She tried to remember the spell Jadora used whenever her familiar, a Bothnian bird-cat, went missing (which was often because the superwitch’s many enemies were often snatching Baxxtern as a way of weakening and distracting her); maybe she could use it for inspiration? (There was a finding-lost-familiars spell in Callixta’s book, but she couldn’t recall that one, either.) Iris had no idea what it felt like to be so bonded to an animal. She had yet to meet a familiar of her own. Maybe it was okay, though; not all the witches in Witchworld had a familiar, and Greta had mentioned that Callixta said it was okay to be familiarless (was that a word?).
She remembered Greta mentioning her familiar. Goffle-something. Did the other witches in her coven have familiars, too? Did most witches IRL?
Iris proceeded to search the rest of the house—kitchen, dining room, the den with the futon couch (Kedren’s new “bedroom” for whenever she was home from college), Nyala’s room (she touched Lolli’s cage, to see if that might trigger a helpful vision… but nothing), Ephrem’s room, the room Mom shared with Grandma Roseline, the hall closets. Nyala had holed herself up in the upstairs bathroom with the two cats; she could hear them howling angrily about being separated from their food bowl or water bowl or litter box or whatever. Major cat drama.
The litter box made her think of… ugh, the basement. Iris hated it down there; it was dark and damp and smelled like mothballs and cat pee and decay. She would save it for the very end of her search. Or better yet, she would manage to avoid it altogether because Lolli was sure to turn up any second now… right?
Just as Iris was finishing up with the last hall closet—it was stuffed to the gills with mismatched sheets, threadbare towels, and about a hundred rolls of discount toilet paper (because, Grandma Roseline)—she remembered the finding-lost-familiars spell from Callixta’s book. Yes!
Making sure Nyala and Ephrem were out of earshot, Iris clasped her smiley-face moon pendant for extra magical effect and whispered: “Sortis.”
Nothing.
“Sortis,” she repeated.
Still nothing.
She knotted her fists in frustration. Breathe, she told herself. She reminded herself that magic was mainly about intention. If the mental intention wasn’t there, a spell was pretty much useless.
“Lolli McScuffle Pants, you dumb mouse, where are you? Sortis right this second or face the full wrath of the High Council!” How was that for intention?
Sssstttt.
A strange, barely-there sensation tickled Iris’s brain. Like tiny whiskers grazing against her cerebral cortex.
“L-Lolli?”
Another tickle—this time, stronger. Iris continued repeating the spell (quietly) and calling Lolli’s name (loudly), and the tickling sensation intensified. It was almost like a weird kind of radar. She moved slowly, carefully in what seemed to be the right direction.
After a moment, she found herself back in her own room. What the hex?
“Lolli?”
On top of her dresser, a fringy black scarf trembled and fluttered, revealing an empty Pasta-in-a-Cup container underneath. A tiny pink nose emerged from the container and sniffed furiously at the air.
“Lolli?”
The white mouse skittered out of the bowl and dashed across the dresser, nimbly navigating a maze of Pokémon figurines and origami dragons.
“Were you in here the whole time? Nyala was super-worried about you! We all were!” Iris scolded.
In response, Lolli skittered to the floor, crossed the room, and skittered up Iris’s leg. She
