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A flash of lightning and the boat suddenly sailed right off the page.

The remaining images flickered like candles before fading out, leaving the pages blank again. Tempest slid her hands back and forth across the smooth paper, but nothing happened this time. Try as she might, she could not get anything to come back. She slammed the book shut.

The compass had stopped spinning, and the skeletons were still now. Arms linked, they were all facing forward.

“Giddy up,” Fortune said. Her voice split on the last word.

When had Fortune’s eyes changed to this deep amber color?

Tempest ran a hand down the bird’s back and offered her a treat from the treat jar in the cupholder. Fortune took it halfheartedly and didn’t even bother to say thank you. She refused the sunflower seeds in her bowl.

“I’m worried about you, Fortune. You haven’t been yourself. What’s up?”

“Thirty. Three. See.” Fortune’s voice was a rasp. Her eyes were closing.

Tempest was done deliberating. She didn’t care about the atlas or the compass. Something was wrong with her familiar and she didn’t think it was the type of condition an Ordinary veterinarian could treat. She chastised herself for not getting Fortune help sooner.

From Indiana her best options for seeing a vet with a magical avian familiar subspecialty was probably driving straight through to Boston. She didn’t think she could make it to New Orleans any faster. The compass and the Hell’s Belles were already pointing east. And Priya was there too. Everything was pointing the same direction.

Waves coursed across the cover of the atlas and the sky outside filled with threatening clouds. Tempest placed the book back in its stand.

She didn’t need the atlas to guide her. She would find her way to Boston with Ordinary road maps and she’d contact Priya when she got close. She trusted that Priya would know what to do.

East it was, once again.

The Squeaky Wheel Fromagerie, Primrose Court

[DATE REDACTED]

Amrita, my dear,

Something is afoot. Two cheese-of-the-month club parcels have arrived back unopened. That is not at all like you.

I don’t know what is going on but I know you, and I know it is something. You know where to find me and how to reach me. Please do not hesitate to reach out. Whatever it is, I am here, and likely to understand.

The September selection was exceptional, by the way. A raw milk Tomme from a small farm outside Annecy that I know you would have loved. I am setting one aside for you.

Come and find me.

With love,

Minerva

SOCIETY FOR THE PROTECTION OF NATURAL MAGIC

Office of the Director

This reply has been generated automatically by a standing correspondence charm. Director Berman is currently away from her office and has not read your correspondence. She will respond personally upon her return.

Amrita Berman Director, Society for the Protection of Natural Magic

TWENTY-FIVE

SEA CHANGE

Soraya needed to rest for several days. Amrita sat with her during her recovery, reading out loud from her texts and keeping her company. They played backgammon and Go and Soraya even taught Amrita how to braid dreadlocks into her hair, like her own.

The Fates took good care of them both, fetching clean clothes and fresh water, and more texts from the hold. They plated and served the food that Amrita prepared and kept the boat on its circular course. It would have been a pleasant week, but Fortune had gone missing for several days. Amrita had grown fond of the owl, and this made her uneasy.