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“Oh!” exclaimed Willow. “I could bake cookies. I have a fab recipe for—”
“I make the cookies,” said Rowena a little too snappy, but then brought it in after realizing her overreaction. “Um, I meant to say that the townsfolk of Mysthaven look forward to my cookies every year.”
“Oh, of course,” said Willow, feeling silly. “I wasn’t thinking.”
“No troubles, dear,” said Astrid. “Besides, we have something in mind for you. Our beloved Lola used to run the fortune telling booth, but sadly, she’s no longer with us.”
“I’m so sorry,” said Willow completely sincere in her condolences, although she always thought she said the wrong thing in these situations. “When did she die?”
“Die?” Nadine cackled. “She didn’t die. Lola moved to Florida.”
Now Willow really felt like a dork. Why was she this way?
Astrid gestured to Daria who dug inside her extra-large bag and produced a purple velvet box, about the size of a coffee pot or a small blender. She handed it to Astrid, who brought it over to Willow with something of a solemn expression on her features.
“This,” she said, “is the Orb of Gorimaan. It was forged by the drabardi in the fifth century, commissioned by the King of the Franks and found centuries later when pirates dug up his grave. It is said to have powers of divination beyond imagining and if used for malice, the one who wields it will go mad. Wars have been waged, blood spilled, and good men have turned to darkness to gain control over it. Until recently, when it came into our possession. Now I will pass it on to you.”
Astrid raised the box above Willow’s head with outstretched arms—Lion King style. And Willow had never jumped away from someone so fast in her life. Her heart leapt to her throat, her face pale as a sheet, and in tumbling over to the other side of the room, knocked over her chair and kicked the corner of an end table, causing it to wobble.
But Astrid only laughed—a small little laugh, really—and dipped her hand into the box to take out the crystal ball within.
Willow gasped and wished she was better at magic so she could poof out of there.
“Ah, Willow!” Astrid said with amusement. “I’m only joking. I picked this up at Hobby Lobby for twenty bucks on sale. But if you use that story, you’ll bring in so much cash, your head will spin. Not literally spin. Figuratively spin. And did I tell you all proceeds go to charity? Children. Who can’t read.”
Willow was beside herself. And what kind of joke was that? She nearly peed her pants.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you,” Astrid said in a gentler tone.
“So it’s just a prop?” Willow asked.
Nadine hopped up and snapped the thing out of Astrid’s hands. “Honestly, Astrid. Enough dramatics.”
She turned the crystal ball over in her hands, touched the bottom of the base, and flipped it over for Willow to see.
There, stuck on the bottom of the trinket, was a sticker price tag showing the sale price as nineteen ninety-nine. Then Nadine slipped it back into the velvet box and closed the lid.
“Even though it’s not worth much,” she said to Willow, “it’s important you take very good care of it. Sure, we could buy a new one, but we need every penny for the children’s charity. Will you do that, Willow?”
“Um, I suppose so. But I wouldn’t know the first thing about fortune telling. I know a lot more about books…”
“Oh, it’s super easy,” Jewels said with a wave of her hand. “You just throw a scarf on your head, wear big hoop earrings, and make stuff up. People only want to hear that they’ll be coming into some money in the future or will have everything they desire come true. Piece of cake. No offense, Rowena.”
“None taken,” Rowena said.
“Will you do it?” Nadine asked Willow. “It’s a big money maker.”
Willow bit her lip, and thought about what her mother would do. Esme not only would say yes, but she’d run the fortune telling booth with style.
“I’ll do it,” Willow said. “For the children.”
“For the children,” Jewels echoed.
“One last order of business,” Nadine said, placing the velvet box at Willow’s feet. “Willow’s onboarding.”
“My… onboarding?”
“Into the Mysthaven Women’s Business Council, of course. It’s just a pledge to honor our small-town values and our promise to hold each other up as women entrepreneurs. Rowena, do you have that paper?”
