Iris lowered her hand and jammed it into her jeans pocket. “No, that’s not… I mean… the letters N and O.”
Greta and Binx exchanged a glance. 1415. N-O. New Order. Was Iris onto something?
“The first time Greta showed me the shadow message, her shadow message, I touched it and then had this vision.… I know that sounds crazy, but sometimes I touch stuff and I get these visions, and they might mean something or they might just be my brain making up random gibberish,” Iris babbled. “Anyhoo… when I touched the shadow message, I had a vision that the number 1415 stood for the letters N and O. I originally thought it just spelled no, but maybe it stands for New Order?”
“Huh. That’s interesting.” Aysha spoke up. “Some white supremacist groups do that, I think. My cousin Matt, he’s technically my stepcousin, was in one of those groups for a while, in Boise, Idaho. His group was called the True Brotherhood; he told us their symbol was the number 202, since T and B are the twentieth and second letters of the alphabet.”
“Do I even want to know what the True Brotherhood is all about?” Div asked.
“No. You really don’t,” Aysha replied. “Let’s just say that side of the family is not welcome in our house. The last time they came for Thanksgiving, my parents made them leave halfway through because Matt couldn’t keep his racist mouth shut.”
“That’s horrible,” Mira scoffed. “I would have dumped gravy over his head.”
“Yeah, I came this close.” Aysha pinched her thumb and ring finger until they were nearly closed.
“I think Iris may be right. Good job, Iris,” Div said, which made Iris beam, which made Greta even more annoyed with Div. “Those numbers on the shadow messages that Greta and I received must stand for the New Order. And if there’s a chance the Jessups are connected with the New Order, then we need to check them out. Are we good with that, Mira?”
“I guess so? But I’m like a million percent sure you’re not going to find anything.”
“We still don’t know who enchanted our shadow messages and made those numbers appear, though,” Greta reminded Div. “Plus, who did all that magical stuff around Penelope’s body? It seems like our killer is a witch, but the New Order, the Antima, wouldn’t have witches.”
“You’re right. It doesn’t add up,” Div acknowledged. “We need to figure out who enchanted the shadow messages ASAP. Greta, you guys and Iris should get on that while we investigate the Jessups… Mira, do you have any ideas on how we could get close to the family?”
“Actually, yes!” Mira scrolled through her phone, then turned it so everyone could see a digital invite. “Tomorrow night is a fund-raising party for my dad’s campaign. They happen a lot, and this one’s at the Jessups’ house.”
“Great. Perfect. Can you get Aysha and me on the guest list? In the meantime, we should all continue casting protection spells on ourselves and on our familiars, too. I know they’re not perfect, but they’re better than nothing.” Div regarded Greta. “Speaking of familiars, how is yours? Did you ever figure out why he was with Penelope that night?”
“He’s much better, and no, we haven’t,” Greta replied.
Iris raised her hand again. “Excuse me… hey, Greta? Hi! I think I can help with that. Can I come over to your house after school?”
At four o’clock, the Navarro house was quiet; no one was home. Greta led Iris inside and then locked the front door behind them. She wondered why Div had suggested that Iris work on the case with her coven and not Div’s. Did she no longer want to recruit Iris? Or was she so confident about securing a yes from Iris that she didn’t care?
Or had Penelope’s death just put everything else on the back burner?
Whatever the reason, Greta was really annoyed with Div, and even more annoyed at herself for letting Div order her and her friends around. She should have said something. She should have stuck up for herself and her coven.
“I thought I could see if my touching-stuff-and-getting-weird-visions thing might work on your cat,” Iris explained as they went up the stairs to Greta’s room. She paused to study an old black-and-white photograph of a woman with Greta’s eyes and smile (Greta explained that it was a picture of her great-grandmother Adelita when she was in high school), then moved on. “No guarantees, though. So far, it’s only happened with objects, not animals. Or people.” She reached out and tapped Greta’s back. “See, I just touched you! No vision! Except maybe my brain just had a vision about popcorn, but that’s only because I’m hungry.”
“I’ll make you some after we see Gofflesby. With brewers’ yeast.”
“Yeast on popcorn? I was going to say melted butter and nacho-cheese-flavored salt, but sure!”
Upstairs, Greta unlocked her bedroom door with a reverse obex spell. Her palms were clammy, and her shoulders were tight with tension. On top of everything else, she’d been worried about Gofflesby all day.
“Gofflesby? I’m home!”
She pushed the door open and gasped.
Her familiar was lapping water and herbs from her scrying bowl.
“Gofflesby, no! You can’t drink that!” Greta cried out.
Gofflesby arched his back and hissed at her. He dipped one paw in the bowl and scooped the liquid into his mouth. Then he batted at the bowl and tipped it over, spilling its contents onto the wood floor.
“Gofflesby!” Greta grabbed a T-shirt and mopped up the mess.
“I’ve never seen a cat drink out of a scrying bowl,” Iris remarked. “Of course, I don’t know a lot of cats. I don’t know a lot of people who own scrying bowls, either. Well, just you guys, basically.”
“He’s never drunk from the scrying bowl before,” Greta said worriedly. “I don’t understand why.…”
She stopped as something across the room caught her eye.
“Oh, no!”
On top of her art table, empty potion bottles lay cracked and broken. Clumps of herbs collected in wet
