He didn’t look like he was going to be easily swayed. ‘You want me to disappear from your life, forget you ever existed?’

‘Yes.’

‘Fine. Then you do what I tell you and we’ll have a bargain.’

She didn’t like making bargains with the devil, and Elric whoever-he-was was downright satanic. But she wasn’t sure she had much choice. And what are you going to tell me to do?’ she asked, wary.

‘Isn’t it obvious? I’m going to show you how to turn straw into gold.’

She stared at him. ‘I thought we weren’t supposed to cross elemental boundaries. I thought you were going to stop me.’

Elric shrugged, a sight beautiful to behold. ‘I have a feeling you’re going to anyway, so I might as well accept the fact and make certain you’re prepared for the ramifications.’

And what might those be?’

‘It won’t stay gold. But if you’re lucky it’ll stay that way long enough for you to cash it in and get out of here. Assuming that’s what you want to do. Somehow I can’t see the children of Phil and Fiona Fortune living in suburbia. They were a little more upscale.’

‘I’m not my parents,’ she said stiffly. ‘I have no intention of ripping people off, and I’m not interested in fame. I need to make money fairly’

‘And you think using magic spells is a fair way to make money? That’s one thing that never tends to work – if it did, the twenty richest people in the world would be ones with our kind of gifts. Personal gain is frowned upon, and it never works out well. Look what happened to your parents.’

In fact, she didn’t know what happened to her parents, only that they’d died. Dee didn’t like her asking questions, and something had kept her from looking into it. She barely remembered those years in the limelight – she’d hated the attention from the media, the indifference of her parents. Their quest for fame and fortune had killed them – she knew that much. And she had no interest in following in their footsteps.

Her motives, however, were pure. She needed the money for her sisters, but she wasn’t about to waste time with explanations. She wasn’t about to tell him anything more than he needed to know. He knew too much already. ‘Is there anything I can use to turn into gold that will stay that way?’

‘Some base metals. If you go about it the right way, and your intentions are pure. I’m just not sure I can teach you that much in the next three days.’

‘Three days?’ she said faintly. ‘You’re planning to stay in the area that long?’ She was horrified, though she wasn’t sure if it was because he was staying too long or leaving too soon.

‘No,’ he said. ‘I’m planning to stay in your house that long.’

‘Not if my sisters have anything to say about it. Dee doesn’t allow sleepovers.’

‘If Charles is any example, I can see why not. However, she isn’t going to know. I have no intention of letting her see me.’

‘Dee sees far too much,’ Lizzie said, glum.

‘This isn’t a case of a teenage girl trying to break curfew,’ Elric said. ‘Trust me.’

That’s not going to happen anytime soon, she thought. ‘There isn’t an extra bedroom. There’s no place for you to sleep.’

‘Your bedroom will do.’

‘I only have one bed.’

‘We’ll take turns.’

She stared at him, frustration bubbling up. She would have told him what he could take turns doing, but it wouldn’t have any effect and would only upset her stomach.

‘I don’t like you,’ she said in a sulky voice.

Again that demoralizing smile. ‘Of course you do. That’s part of the problem.’ Before she could open her mouth to protest he went on, ‘Why don’t we go back to the house and you can show me what you’ve been working on, show me what you’ve learned so far? We can take it from there.’

Back to the house that suddenly seemed way too small with him in it? She didn’t really have any choice. ‘Give me a minute,’ she said. ‘I’m not quite ready to hike back.’

‘No need,’ he said, and took her right hand in his before she could stop him.

Colors everywhere, with the wind streaming through her hair, pulling it free of the pins she’d stuck into it to hold it in place. The smell of lilacs, a sea of pinkywhite dogwoods like a carpet beneath her, and she was back in their kitchen, ready to throw up.

He was no longer holding her hand, a small mercy, and she couldn’t read anything in his dark, mesmerizing eyes. ‘You’ll get used to it,’ he said. ‘If you keep having problems, a little Dramamine will do wonders.’

‘What…’ Her voice came out in a choked gasp. ‘What did you just do?’

‘I didn’t think we had time for a leisurely stroll through

Salem’s Fork, and your fiancé might start asking questions if you were seen with me. I just got us here a little quicker.’

‘Don’t do that again,’ she said. ‘Or at least give me a little warning.’

‘Agreed,’ he said. Are you ready to start?’

Her workshop was a closed-in sun porch, and the only entrance was through her bedroom. She wasn’t sure which would feel more intimate: taking him through her bedroom or letting him into her workspace, a place no one else had ever intruded on before. But clearly she had no choice. There was no other way to get rid of him.

‘You leave me no choice,’ she said.

‘You look like Joan of Arc facing the stake,’ he said. ‘Trust me, this will hurt me more than it will hurt you.’

She’d heard that before, and it was usually followed by something awful. The last thing in the world she was going to do was trust the shimmering stranger who had invaded her life.

She would take what she needed from him, learn what she could, and then get him out of her life, along with the gift that felt more like a curse.

‘And once you teach me, you promise you’ll go?’

‘I’ll be gone in three days. By the Feast of Beltane.’

And all she could do was hold on to that hope, as she led him into her bedroom.


Sugar shot straight up out of the pouring spout of the shaker, and Crash ducked back, saying, ‘What the hell?’

Mare slapped her hand over the top of the shaker again. ‘Earthquake. Did you just ask me to marry you?’

‘No kidding?’ Pauline said, and Mare looked up to see her standing there with their Cokes. ‘He proposed?’

‘Thank you,’ Crash said, taking the Cokes from her. ‘We’re good here.’

Pauline stood there for a minute, her face avid, and then when they both looked at her pointedly, she rolled her eyes and left.

‘You proposed?’ Mare said when she was gone.

‘Yeah.’ Crash sounded surprised himself as he passed over her Diet Coke. ‘I did.’

‘You didn’t mean to do that, did you?’ Mare said, relieved and disappointed. ‘It’s okay’

‘No, I did. I mean, yes, I want to marry you.’ He shook his head as if to clear it, and then thought about it for a minute. ‘Yes, I do. Yes, Moira Mariposa O’Brien, I want to marry you-’

Yes, Mare thought.

‘-yes, I want to have kids with you-’

A fat laughing baby toddling down a sunny dusty road…

No, Mare thought. How would he feel if his baby turned out to be a freak like her?

‘-yes, I want to… what’s wrong?’

Temper tantrums with blue sparks and teddy bears flying across the nursery? Purple smoke rolling in and bunnies leaping from the bassinets? A puff of green fog and your firstborn is a frequent flyer?

‘Okay, not kids, not right away,’ he said. ‘In a couple of years. Five years. Ten years. We don’t have to have kids.’ He looked confused, as if he were in over his head.

She knew how he felt.

‘Stop,’ Mare said. ‘It’s just… things are complicated. I just got offered a promotion at work. And call me feminist, but I think working at my own career instead of following yours around might be a good idea for me.’ Except yours is in Italy and I bet I could do something amazing in Italy, too. Better than rent videos anyway. And I know I could do amazing things with you. Just lunch with you makes me breathless.

‘I didn’t mean you’d just follow me around,’ Crash said. ‘I don’t know what I meant. We’d work it out.’ He looked at the sugar shaker again. ‘I’m doing this all wrong. What the hell just happened here?’

‘And we really don’t know each other,’ Mare said. ‘Five years have changed both of us. A weekend isn’t enough for us to know, not after five years. And you left me. How do I know you won’t do that again?’ I can’t even tell you the big secret of my life. How can I marry you?

Crash shook his head. ‘Look, I waited to come back until I had something to give you, until I was ready to say, “Come back with me.” I’m ready, I’ll stick, I swear I will, Mare. I’m not going to pretend that all I did was work. There were other…’ He frowned, as if he knew he was screwing up again. ‘Look, no matter what I was doing, who I was with, I couldn’t forget you. I had to come back to get you.’

Mare sat back, exasperated. ‘Why do I feel like I’m being ordered at the pickup window at the Big Fast Food Restaurant of Love? You got a weekend so you’re driving through. As long as you’re here, you’ll take the Combo Mare. Supersize it, to go.’

‘That’s not fair,’ Crash said. ‘Look, you want me to go away, just tell me to go.’

He met her eyes straight on and she thought, Don’t leave me, and put her head in her hands.

‘Mare?’

Italy and the dusty sun and the bike and Crash and maybe that baby, and she loved him, she’d never stopped loving him, if she just wasn’t one of the gifted Fortune Sisters, the Head Bouncer at Witch Central…

‘Don’t go,’ she said.

‘Does it have to be this hard?’ Crash said. ‘Does it always have to be secrets and misery? Can’t it just be “I love you, too,” and a trip to goddamn Italy?’

‘No.’ She drew a deep breath. ‘This is going to take some thinking.’

‘Thinking.’ He nodded. ‘Sure, why not? Thinking. Some women answer proposals with just “yes” and a kiss, but you need to think about it.’

‘Hey,’ Mare said. ‘It’s been five years.’ Crash sat back. ‘You got a time frame on that thinking?’

‘I don’t get off until ten-thirty,’ Mare said. I’ll probably need longer than that. Tomorrow.’

‘Okay. Tomorrow.’

‘Is that when you’re doing it?’ Pauline said.

Mare glared up at her. ‘Excuse me?’

Pauline put their food on the table. ‘Is that when you’re getting married? Did you say yes? Maxine is back in the kitchen and she’s dying to know.’

‘You know,’ Mare began dangerously, and then realized the diner had grown quiet.

‘And a few others, too,’ Pauline said. ‘You know how word gets around here.’

‘Oh, hell,’ Crash said. ‘I had to come back, I couldn’t just stay in Italy.’

Mare stood up and looked at everyone in the diner looking back at them. ‘So here’s the story, and let’s get it right when we repeat it, people. Christopher Duncan, whom we all know and love as Crash, is back in town after establishing a successful business in Italy. He has come back to discuss the possibility of my joining him there to live happily ever after as his wife in the dappled sunshine where we will have many blissful days and passionate nights. I’m trying to decide if I want that, or if it would be better for me to stay here in Salem’s Fork and rent videos to all of you. I’m thinking about it. It’s not an easy decision. There are ramifications. I am cogitating. In the meantime, your food is getting cold. Eat up, Fork People. Cold food is bad for the digestion.’

She sat down again and looked at Crash, ignoring the sugar granules in the shaker, which were now pulsing gently, happily, like a good strong heartbeat.

‘You’re insane,’ Crash said, ‘but I love you.’

‘Eat your lunch,’ Mare said, and ignored the sugar.


* * *

Elric shouldn’t have been surprised by Lizzie’s neat bedroom – pale pink wallpaper, white-painted furniture, gingham curtains, and a bedspread that looked as if. it belonged on the twin bed of a thirteen-year-old, not the slightly more generous double bed. The only anomaly was the pairs of shoes lining the white baseboards – there had to be at least fifty pairs, of every possible shape and style. He glanced at Lizzie’s feet for the first time, and a slow smile spread across his face. The Road Runner high-tops had disappeared – at some point her shoes had become tropical espadrilles with fake fruit dripping off the straps. Lizzie Fortune had a hidden wild streak, at least when it came to shoes.