I shrugged as I looked over my shoulder at him. “We can’t do anything, and playing dead was the entire point. Let’s go look at my mom’s studio.”

His fingers slipped from mine, and he set the remote down, reluctantly turning from the TV. “They aren’t even at the airport yet, and you’re in her spelling cabinet?”

Somehow I found a smile. “You never poked around in your mom’s spelling cabinet when she was gone?”

My heart seemed to melt when Trent smiled. It was laced with worry, distracted, but it was real, and it meant a lot. I knew how hard it was to want to fix something and have to wait.

“I stole all my best revenge spells from my mom when I was in junior high,” I said as I hiked up my robe and took the carpeted stairs. “I swear, I think she left some of them out for me to find. Like the one that gave you zits or made your voice break?”

“Clever.”

“And hard to trace since hormones were already jumping around,” I said, hesitating when we reached the top step. It was a huge, open corridor, windows letting in the light and the sound of surf. My mom was cool, and she believed in plausible deniability as a way to find justice in the dog-eat-dog world of teen angst.

Trent eased to a halt beside me. “Which way?”

I felt a light pull to the right. I couldn’t even tell you what it was. The scent of ozone, maybe? The faint vibration of an uninvoked circle? “Here,” I said, following my nose past open windows all the way to the end of the hall. The sound of surf became louder, and quite unexpectedly the outer side of the hallway opened up to a sun-drenched corner room.

“Wow,” Trent said as we slowly crossed from the carpeted hallway back onto tile, the floor a beautiful mosaic of white, black, and teal laid out in spirals and circles. It would be my favorite room just for that, but it got better. Several benches, each having an overhead rack or fume hood, gave it the look of a lab. There were several built-in burners, a waste zone, and one corner devoted to live plants. One tinted-glass cabinet against the interior wall held herbs, and another books. I assumed the ley line stuff was in cupboards. An open, ultramodern-looking hearth took up a corner. From the hook hanging down from the high ceiling it was functional, but I think Takata used it as a place to sit more than my mom to stir spells at by the number of magazines piled up beside the pair of comfortable chairs between it and the wall. There was an empty coffee cup on the table between them, and a sheet of music half hidden under the rug.