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A candle predicts light is already on its way.

The star in your cup bodes a long happy stay.

FROM THE LITTLE GLASS OWL’S BOOK OF LUCKY CHARMS AND AUSPICIOUS OMENS, COMPILED BY ELECTRA GLASS

TWENTY-SEVEN

THAT’S WHAT FRIENDS ARE FOR

Tempest pulled up beside an old phone booth outside a diner in Hartford, Connecticut. The damp and gritty booth smelled of rust, petrol and someone’s abandoned coffee, but the phone had a dial tone, and it took quarters.

She had a Connecticut road map unfolded on the tiny shelf beside the phone. She’d been navigating by Ordinary means since Indiana. She held her finger on the route northeast to Salem.

As of that morning, her atlas was still blank.

Tempest fished the slip of paper with Priya’s number scrawled on it out of her jeans pocket and used one finger to dial in the numbers on the rotary phone. After a few seconds, some static and clicking, she heard the call going through.

Priya picked up on the second ring.

“Hello? Is Priya there?” Tempest asked tentatively.

“Tempest? I knew it would be you!”

“Really?”

“Actually, no. I’ve never been any good at divining. I just say that to everyone who calls,” Priya admitted. “Most folks fall for it.” She paused. “But it’s so, so good to hear your voice. How are you? Where are you now? It’s almost your birthday. Are you close?”

“I’m good. I’m in Hartford, actually.” Tempest looked out through the dirty glass of the booth at the diner across the parking lot. A hand-lettered sign in the window advertised freshly baked muffins. “Hartford, Connecticut,” she amended.

“Sweet baby hedgehogs, friend! That’s so close! You’re almost here. Can you come see me in Salem?”

“That’s why I’m calling.” Tempest wrapped the phone cord around her finger. “I need some help. Or rather, I think Fortune does. I need to see someone about Fortune. Obviously, I can’t take her to a veterinarian for Ordinaries. I was wondering if you might know of someone in the Boston area I could call?”

“Wait, what? What’s wrong with Fortune?” Priya’s tone changed. “And of course. Whatever you need. I’m happy to help.”

“She’s not eating,” Tempest said. “And her feathers look strange. They’ve gone gray, and kind of dull and patchy at the edges. Plus, she’s just not talking as much.” Tempest paused. “You know how she normally is. She always has something to say.”

“She sure does,” Priya agreed. “How long has this been going on?”

“A while, I think I first noticed her feathers were getting dull back in Oregon. It came on so gradually I kept thinking it would go away, but it hasn’t. And it’s gotten so much worse in the past week.” Tempest felt tears threatening. Outside, a Mack truck rolled past and the booth vibrated. “I don’t know what’s wrong with her, Priya. She’s not herself.”

“My uncle could see her,” Priya said. “Dr. Dvita. He’s well known in Boston magical circles, board certified to treat all kinds of magical folk and their familiars. I’ll call ahead if you like.”

“That would be incredible. Yes please.”

“Consider it done.” She could hear Priya already moving, already problem-solving. “Where are you staying?”

“I’m fine staying in the bus. I just need a safe place to park it.”

“Park it at the harbor lot on Derby Street tonight. I’ll clear it with the harbormaster; he owes me a favor.” After a brief pause she said, “Don’t ask.”

“I wasn’t going to.”

“Yes, you were.” Priya’s smile was audible. “Listen, let’s meet tomorrow morning. Do you know the Peabody Essex? The museum?”

“I can find it.”

“Meet me there at eleven. We’ll catch up properly and figure out the plan for Fortune.” A beat. “And, Tempest? I’m so glad you’re here. I’ve been guiding walking tours here in Salem for the past two months and I’m dying to tell somebody about the ghost who tags along on my evening walks. He’s kind of hot. It’s just not the sort of thing you can explain easily to your Ordinary co-workers without risking your job security.”