“What old guy?” Ivy said quickly.

“Across the street. He’s been watching you.” I set the metal frame down and adjusted the pillow in the chair opposite hers before I sat. Matching furniture; how nice. An old mantel clock ticked, soft and soothing. There was a wide-screen TV with a built-in CD player in one corner. The disc player under it had all the right buttons. Ivy knew her electronics.

“I’ll bring my things over once I get them dissolutioned,” I said, then winced, thinking how cheap my stuff would look next to hers. “What will survive the dip,” I added.

Survive the dip? I thought suddenly, closing my eyes and scrubbing my forehead. “Oh no,” I said softly. “I can’t dissolution my charms.”

Ivy balanced her mug on a knee as she leafed through a magazine. “Hmm?”

“Charms,” I half moaned. “The I.S. overlaid black spells on my stash of charms. Dunking them in saltwater to break the spell will ruin them. And I can’t buy more.” I grimaced at her blank look. “If the I.S. got my apartment, I’m sure they’ve been to the store, too. I should have brought a bunch yesterday before I quit, but I didn’t think they’d care if I left.” I listlessly adjusted the shade of the table lamp. They hadn’t cared until Ivy had left with me. Depressed, I tossed my head back and looked at the ceiling.

“I thought you already knew how to make spells,” Ivy said warily.

“I do, but it’s a pain in the butt. And where am I going to get the raw materials?” I closed my eyes in misery. I was going to have to make all my charms.

There was a rustle of paper, and I lifted my head to see Ivy perusing her magazine. There was an apple and Snow White on the cover. Snow White’s leather corset was cut to show her belly button. A drop of blood glittered like a jewel at the corner of her mouth. It put a whole new twist on the enchanted sleep thing. Mr. Disney would be appalled. Unless, of course, he had been an Inderlander. That would explain a lot.

“You can’t just buy what you need?” Ivy asked.

I stiffened at the touch of sarcasm in her voice. “Yeah, but everything will have to be dunked in saltwater to make sure it hasn’t been tampered with. It’ll be nearly impossible to get rid of all the salt, and that will make the mix wrong.”

Jenks buzzed out of the fireplace with a cloud of soot and an irritating whine. I wondered how long he had been listening in the flue. He landed on a box of tissue and cleaned a spot off his wing, looking like a cross between a dragonfly and a miniature cat. “My, aren’t we obsessed,” he said, answering my question as to whether he had been eavesdropping.

“You have the I.S. trying to nack you with black magic and see if you aren’t a little paranoid.” Anxious, I thwacked the box he was sitting on until he took to the air.