ShadowKnight shrugged and grinned. “I have my ways. So how are you doing?”
“Well, at the moment, I’m engaged in a death-duel with a zombie crow, and I don’t mean one of the ones in Witchworld.”
“Zombie crow?”
“Yeah, kind of. I found this dead crow in my driveway, or I thought it was dead, and then it came back to life.”
ShadowKnight laughed. “Maybe it wasn’t really dead to begin with? Crows are smart; they can fake you out.”
“I didn’t know that.” Binx glanced up at the madrona tree. The crow was gone. The puppy was still there, though, sniffing at the ground. “Cancel the emergency. The zombie crow has returned to its underworld lair or whatever.”
“Whew, close call. Well done, Pokedragon.”
“Thanks, ShadowKnight. Anyway, so… wow! We have a lot to talk about!”
ShadowKnight leaned closer to the videocamera and spoke up. “I know. Listen, before we get to anything else, I wanted to ask you for your help on something. Something Libertas-related. It’s kind of urgent.”
“Sure, anything! I wanted to talk to you about Libertas, anyway.”
“Yeah? Great. And once again, this is top secret. I shouldn’t even be discussing it with you, but I totally trust you, and you’re already kind of a Libertas member in spirit. So.” ShadowKnight glanced over his shoulder. “You’ve probably heard that President Ingraham is working on a new initiative with Congress. It’s a bill to increase enforcement of 6-129 and seek maximum sentences. The rumor is that he’s planning on signing it into law during a big ceremony next month, on the anniversary of Callixta Crowe’s death. Well, we’re going to be there, too. We’re going to march on Washington, DC, to oppose it, and we’re going to present the White House with a new law we wrote that repeals 6-129, prevents his other law from happening, and protects the civil rights of witches.”
Binx gasped. “Are you serious? That sounds… epic! And really, really dangerous. Aren’t you guys worried about the Antima showing up? And the police, too, and the FBI? What if the president orders all of you to be arrested?”
“Of course there are risks. But we need to take a stand.” ShadowKnight nodded to himself, then continued. “So here’s what we need from you. You know about Callixta’s descendant who posted her book and that letter, right? Well, we’ve learned that she or he isn’t the only Callixta descendant who’s still alive. There are others, and we’re in the process of trying to find out who they are and where they live—including the letter writer. We think that if we can have some of them with us at the march, it will really help legitimize our cause. Anyway, I kind of designed a magical genealogy app to try to find these descendants. It’s super-glitchy, though, and I was wondering if you’d take a look. The group really wants to find some Callixta descendants before the march so they can stand with us in Washington.”
Binx felt goose bumps again. “Yeah, of course! I can do that, no problem.”
“Awesome. Thanks.” ShadowKnight glanced over his shoulder again. “Oh, great… there’s a car in the driveway. I think it’s my dad. I’d better go. I’ll send you my app within the hour, through our usual server. Maybe we could chat again this weekend?”
Binx had so many other things she wanted to discuss with him. But it would have to wait. “Definitely. Bye, ShadowKnight.”
“Bye, Pokedragon. Stay safe.”
“You, too.”
She ended the session and peered around. Now the puppy was gone, too. (Maybe it finally went back to its owner?) As she picked up her backpack and headed into the house, her mind churned and raced.
Her back-to-back conversations with Div and ShadowKnight seemed destined to be, somehow. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that Div was right. The Antima movement was growing, and the prospect of more violence against witches (and against their familiars, too?) was really scary. (For the first time ever, Binx was happy she hadn’t found her familiar yet.)
Binx had to get involved. She needed to help hit the delete button on the Antima… and on the anti-witchcraft law (laws, plural, if the super-bigoted president had his way).
Binx cast a quick obex spell on the front door, then went up the stairs to her room, two at a time. She would treat herself to some Witchworld to unwind, then jump into her new C-Squared–related assignment from ShadowKnight (as well as her other assignment, from Greta, researching potential other witches at their school).
Things were happening. Shifting. Changing.
Forget about the Antima revolution… Binx felt like she was getting swept up in a witch revolution.
And she liked it.
18 PUMPKIN SPICE AND EVERYTHING NICE
Truth spells and potions are sometimes not as potent as speaking straight from the heart.
(FROM THE GOOD BOOK OF MAGIC AND MENTALISM BY CALLIXTA CROWE)
“Wow. This is amazing,” Ridley said, taking a sip of her pumpkin spice latte. “Why have I never had one of these?”
She and Penelope were sitting across from each other at a table on the Starbucks patio. Penelope had gone home first to get her dog, Socrates; now the big white poodle lay at her feet, sleeping and snoring quietly. The late afternoon sun barely broke through the clouds, and it was definitely sweater weather; in fact, they were the only customers hanging out outside. And Ridley had forgotten to wear a sweater (or jacket or hoodie) to school today.
Still, she was just happy being with Penelope.
“It’s how I kick off the season every year,” Penelope explained, taking a sip of her latte.
“You mean fall? That’s still a few weeks away.”
“I mean the season. The long celebration season. For me, it starts on the first day these are back on the menu, and goes through Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s. After that I take a little break, and then I have a whole bunch of other traditions for Valentine’s Day and the first day of spring and Easter.”
Ridley laughed.
