I stifled a sigh. If Ivy had her way, we would have a six-step plan posted over the john for what to do if it backed up. “I could fit in a big purse,” I said, warming to the idea.

Jenks sniffed. “A really big-ass purse.”

“I have someone who owes me a favor,” Ivy said. “If she bought the ticket, my name wouldn’t be on the roster. And I could wear a disguise.” Ivy grinned to show a faint slip of teeth. I returned it weakly. She looked altogether human in the bright afternoon light.

“Hey,” Jenks said, glancing at his wife. “I could fit in a purse, too.”

Ivy tapped her pen on her teeth. “I’ll take the tour, and misplace my purse somewhere.”

Jenks stood on the brochure, his wings moving in abrupt fits of motion. “I’m going.”

I jerked the pamphlet out from under him, and he stumbled back. “I’ll meet you tomorrow past the front gate in the woods. You could pick me up just out of sight.”

“I’m going,” Jenks said louder, ignored.

Ivy leaned back in her chair with a satisfied air. “Now that sounds like a plan.”

This was really odd. Last night Ivy had nearly bit my head off when I suggested nearly the same thing. All she needed was to have some input. Pleased for having figured this small bit of Ivy out, I rose and opened my charm cupboard. “Trent knows about you,” I said as I looked my spells over. “Only heaven knows how. You definitely need a disguise. Let’s see … I could make you look old.”

“Is no one listening to me?” Jenks shouted, his wings an angry red. “I’m going. Rachel, tell my wife I’m fit enough to go.”

“Uh, hold up,” Ivy said. “I don’t want to be spelled. I’ve got my own disguise.”

I turned, surprised. “You don’t want one of mine? It doesn’t hurt. It’s just an illusion. It’s not anything like a transformation charm.”

She wouldn’t meet my gaze. “I have something in mind already.”

“I said,” Jenks shouted, “I’m going!”

Ivy scrubbed a hand over her eyes.

“Jenks—” I began.

“Tell her,” he said, darting a glance at his wife. “If you say it’s okay, she’ll let me go. I’ll be able to fly by the time I need to.”

“Look,” I said. “There will be other times—”

“To break into Kalamack’s estate?” he cried. “Don’t freaking think so. Either I go now, or never. This is my only shot at finding out what Kalamack smells like. No pixy or fairy has been able to tell what he is. And not you, or anyone else, is going to take that chance from me.” A wisp of desperation had crept into his voice. “Neither of you are big enough.”

I looked past him to Mrs. Jenks, my eyes pleading. He was right. There would be no other time. It would be too chancy to risk even my life if it hadn’t already been in the blender and waiting for someone to push the button. The pretty pixy’s eyes closed, and she clasped her arms about herself. Looking pained, she nodded. “All right,” I said, my attention back on Jenks. “You can come.”