The dragon lands a few feet in front of me, the size of a small pony. It bows its head, regal and calm.

  “Hello, Georgina Brando of Sparta. Nice to finally meet you.” Her voice is deep and silky.

  “Tabarnak! You talk?” I stumble back.

  “Yes, I talk,” it says, amused.

  “A talking dragon?” I edge closer, inspecting it. “You’re… kinda small. I thought dragons were giant. No offence.”

  Its golden eyes narrow. “Oh, so you’re a dragon expert now?”

  “No, but I clearly need medical attention. Did I die in a freak furnace accident? I mean, I don’t usually drink while working with fire. It was just a little hair of the dog, really, and…”

  “You’re not dead.”

  “Right. Talking dragon says I’m not dead. So I’m not dead. That’s a vibe.” I nod, I’m totally dreaming. “Wait, how do you know my name?”

  “It was written in the prophecy.”

  “Of course it was.” I take a long swig of my Caesar. “Can you tell me more about it?”

  “In good time.”

  “Sure. Okay. That tracks.” Another swig. “You clearly know my name. What’s yours?”

  “I am Ruby. Your guide and magic keeper.”

  “I knew it. I fucking knew it. Maria couldn’t be the only one with magic.” I pause. “But I’m a Scorpio. Are you a water dragon?”

  Ruby tilts her head. “Do I look like a water dragon?”

  “No,” I admit, studying her. I thought for sure this had to do with astrology. Prophecies are written in the stars and all that stuff. I snap my fingers. “My ascendant sign. I’m a Sagittarius rising. Boom. Fire sign.”

  Ruby nods in agreement. “Humans can’t see me. Only divine beings. Now that the prophecy has been initiated, I am with you for eternity.”

  “Whoa. That’s… quite a commitment. Okay. I don’t have commitment issues at all so I don’t think this will be a problem.”

  “You’re a terrible liar.”

  “True.” I polish off the Caesar. “So what does it mean that I can see you then? Am I a goddess?”

  Ruby chuckles. “Not a goddess. But divinity runs through your veins.”

  “So… I’m descended from the gods?”

  “Correct.”

  The door to the workshop creaks open. Tommy walks in. Ruby leaps and vanishes into my wrist. I look down. My birthmark now glows faintly, a dragon constellation tucked inside my crescent moon birthmark.

  “Who were you talking to?” Tommy asks.

  I clear my throat. “Myself.” I walk past him.

  “Whoa. What’s with your eyes? They’re bright red.”

  My heart drops. “Contact lenses.”

  I make a beeline for the washroom. “Gotta pee.”

  “Sure. Go pee.”

  Calisse. That really just happened. I glance down at my wrist—the glow is gone. Just looks like another tattoo now.

  Yup. I gotta tell the others.

  * * *

  I run up the steps of the Salem Public Library—a three-story red-brick building with cement columns, just down the road from the Witch House. It looks like an old mansion, probably built in the 1800s. A lot of the buildings around here were.

  I take the stairs to the second floor where we agreed to meet two at a time. When I reach the table, JJ, Arya, and Maria are already there, laptops open, books strewn everywhere. I’m completely out of breath.

  Bent over, hands on knees, I gasp, “Hi… I… have… some… crazy shit to tell you.”

  “Shhhhh,” Arya scolds. “We’re in a library, Gina.”

  “Sorry,” I whisper, sliding into the empty seat beside Maria. “But look.” I flash them my wrist.

  “You’re an hour late because you got a tattoo?” Arya deadpans.

  “No!” I lower my voice. “I met a dragon.”

  “What?” Arya laughs.

  “Her name is Ruby.”

  Arya raises an eyebrow. “Have you been drinking?”

  “No. Well—yes. But only one Caesar. Hair of the dog.” I glance around. “You bitches can’t tell me you’re not hungover after all those birthday shots. I mean, we danced our asses off, but we didn’t sweat it all out.”

  Arya crosses her arms. “We may be hungover, but we still showed up on time.”

  “I don’t know what happened. It’s like I got caught in a time loop talking to Ruby.”

  “The dragon?” Arya asks.

  “Yes.”

  “The talks?”

  “Yes.”

  “The talking dragon you then got tattooed on your wrist?”

  “Yes.” I shake my head. “Wait. no, no, no. She is the tattoo.”

  Their faces go blank. Maria fixes her glasses.

  “Okay. Let me back up. You know how Maria can move water with her mind? Well, I can do magic too. My element is fire.”

  JJ closes her laptop. “Come again?”

  “Maria’s clearly water, so one of you is earth and one is air.”

  “Is that right?” Arya asks, flatly.

  “Yes. It’s based on your rising sign.”

  “My what?” Maria tilts her head.

  “Your rising sign. Also called your ascendant.” I gesture around the table. “Most people only know their sun sign, but your full chart includes all the planets and houses. The rising sign’s determined by your birth time.”

  Arya sighs. “How did we go from talking dragons to astrology?”

  “Stay with me. If I had to guess—you’re the earth sign.” I point to Arya. “Totally Virgo rising vibes.”

  Arya scoffs. “What does that mean?”

  “Nothing bad! And JJ, you’re an intellectual with all your research and books. That screams air sign. Maybe Libra rising.”

  “What does any of this have to do with your dragon tattoo?” Arya folds her arms.

  “When we figure out your elements, I can help you call forth your own magic keeper.”

  “Magic keeper?” JJ echoes.

  “Yes! Can I use your laptop for a second? I’ll have this figured out in five minutes.”

  She hands it over, reluctantly. “Okay…”

  I open my favourite astrology site. “What time were you born?” I ask Jane.

  A few moments later, I’ve got everyone’s rising signs mapped. JJ’s an Aquarius rising. Maria’s Pisces. Arya’s’s Capricorn. We all have Scorpio suns and Libra moons, but our rising signs are different.

  “Now you know your big three!” I grin.

  “Yay,” Arya mutters.

  “So, how do we release our magic keeper?” Maria asks quietly.

  “I don’t know. I’ll ask Ruby.” I raise my wrist. “Ruby? I summon you.” I swirl it around with flourish.

  Nothing.

  “Maybe I need fire.” I glance around. “Anyone have a lighter?”

  JJ sighs. “Listen, we’re here to research Bridget Bishop and the prophecy. Maybe summon magical creatures after the library closes?”

  “I think Bridget Bishop’s a dead end.” I smirk. “No pun intended.”

  “What? Why?” JJ asks.

  “Ruby said I, rather, we are descendants of the gods.”

  Arya and JJ burst out laughing.

  “Oh really?” Arya says, raising an eyebrow.

  “I’m serious. She called me Georgina Brando of Sparta.”

  “So we’re descended from Greek gods?” Maria asks.

  “Exactly.” I smile. “I think we need to be researching a prophecy in Greek mythology.”

  JJ puts her elbows on the table and rubs her temples. “Okay. In my preliminary research, which was quite extensive, going through various online library archives, including Harvard, I found nothing connecting Bridget Bishop and a prophecy.” JJ ponders. “If what you are saying is true, then our time is probably best spent trying to release or summon our…what did you call them?”

  “Magic keepers.” I offer.

  “Magic keepers.” Jane echoes. “If you need fire to ‘summon’ your dragon friend, I have a bunch of candles at my place. Why don’t we start there?”

  “Yes! Let’s do it.” I exclaim, smacking my hand on the table.

  “Shhhhhhh.” Someone across the room hisses.

  “Sorry.” I whisper loudly.

  * * *

  A bird squawks loudly the moment we walk in the door. I jump.

  “Nice place!” I say.

  “Thanks,” JJ responds. “Can I get anyone a drink or anything?”

  “I’m good. Where’s your lighter?” I ask.

  JJ sighs, then points. “Matches are on the mantel.”

  “I’ve been thinking about how I did it. What I was thinking about. Where my mind was at when she appeared.” I strike a match on the fireplace and light the candles. “I was really pissed when she showed up. I was missing my mom. She died giving birth to me.”

  “Gina, I’m so sorry,” JJ interrupts. I see tears in her eyes, then she swallows hard, and they’re gone. “I lost my mom too. Last Christmas.”

  “I’m sorry to hear we’re part of the same club,” I say softly.

  “So you were missing your mom. Then what?” Arya asks.

  “I started to get angry that she wasn’t here. I felt a sense of injustice,” I explain.

  “Lean into that,” Maria says gently.

  I look toward her. “Okay.” I kneel in front of the candles and stare into the flame. Moments later, Ruby appears. Someone screams. The bird starts squawking uncontrollably. I look down at my wrist and the tattoo is gone.

  “See, I told you!” I say to the others.

  Jane stands frozen with her hand over her mouth. Arya is hiding behind the couch, her head barely peeking out from the top. Maria is looking at Ruby in absolute wonder.

  “What’s with this crew? It’s like they’ve never seen a dragon before,” Ruby says to me, sitting down on her hind legs.

  “I know, right?” I laugh.

  “It talks?!” JJ exclaims.

  “Yes, I told you she talks.”

  Maria takes a few steps toward Ruby. “How do I meet my magic keeper?”

  “You must work with your element, Maria, and tune into your ancestral emotions.”

  She nods, then runs to the kitchen and returns with a glass of water. Setting it on the floor at Ruby’s feet, she kneels beside it, gazing at the surface with a gentle smile. Her eyes shift to that same bright, luminous blue behind her glasses, but nothing happens.

  “Maybe you need more water?” I suggest.

  “I’ll get a bucket.” JJ disappears and returns moments later, placing the bucket next to the glass.

  Maria kneels again, focusing. Her eyes glow blue. This time, the water begins to splash and swirl until, suddenly a pink, lizard-like creature about the size of a house cat, bursts forth, suspended mid-air in a shimmering, splash-shaped orb of water, held together by invisible magic. I look down at the bucket. It is empty. Then back at the creature.

  “What is that?” I exclaim.

  “It’s an axolotl,” Maria smiles.

  “Maria Muir of Sparta. I’ve been waiting a millennia to finally meet you.” Her voice bubbles up like laughter, clear but distant. “My name is Coral. I am your guide and magic keeper.”

  “Incredible to meet you, Coral,” Maria smiles.

  Arya stands up from behind the couch. “What can I use for earth?”

  There’s a pause. JJ snaps her fingers. “I have a lavender plant in my bedroom. Hold on a second.” She disappears and comes back moments later holding a small potted plant with tiny purple flowers. She hands it to Arya, who places it on the ground next to the water.

  Arya hesitates. “I’m not sure how I’m going to tap into my ancestral emotion… I haven’t spoken to my mom in ten years.”

  “It’s all about love,” Coral explains.

  “I do have a little sister. I basically raised her. My mom was always too busy or drunk.” Arya kneels and stares at the plant. Soon, the branches begin to rustle and the tiny flowers dance into shape. Her eyes turn an emerald green then a beautiful fox jumps out of the lavender plant, landing in Arya’s lap and kissing her sloppily on the cheek. It’s not like a regular fox, it appears to be made out of the petals of flowers. A flower fox.

  “Arya Harlow of Sparta. We are united in our quest for balance,” the fox says, her voice like something out of a cartoon. “I am Blossom. Consider me your growth coach.”

  “I must be dreaming,” Arya responds.

  “You’re next!” I say to JJ.

  “How am I supposed to work with air? Just breathe heavily?” JJ jokes.

  “Why don’t we go down to the beach? There is plenty of wind down there,” Maria suggests.

  “Won’t our magic keepers be seen?” Arya asks.

  “No mortal can see us. Only divine beings have the capacity to interpret our magical energy,” Coral explains.

  “I told you.” I wave my finger around. “I told you we were descendants of the gods.”

  “You’re not strong enough to interpret our energy around mortals yet,” Ruby explains. “Their presence messes with the vibrational connection between us.”

  “The what?” Arya asks.

  “The vibrational connection,” I repeat loudly.

  “I heard her. What does that mean?” Arya presses.

  “We are all made up of energy. Us magic keepers function on the highest vibration of energy. Most mortals unknowingly function at a very low vibration. When they’re around, it’s almost like they scramble the signal for you,” Blossom explains.

  “Until your magic reaches our level of vibration, we can’t appear to you around other mortals,” Coral adds.

  “Oh. Okay. I get it… I think,” Arya responds.

  “Well, if that’s the case, maybe we should wait for another day to summon my magic keeper then? Maybe an extra windy night, when fewer people are around?” JJ suggests.

  The magic keepers exchange looks.

  “Whenever you’re ready, Jane Camden of Sparta. The prophecy was initiated on your golden birthday. It’s all destiny now. Whatever is meant for you will not pass you by.”

  “Including my magic keeper?”

  “Including your magic keeper,” Ruby responds with a bow, then without warning, jumps back into my wrist. Coral and Blossom disappear at the same time.

  Arya and Maria check their wrists. They both now have constellation tattoos of a fox and an axolotl inside the crescent of their birthmarks. I glance over at Jane, who’s looking down at her own empty birthmark. She covers it with her hand. I walk over and give her a big bear hug. She stiffens like a board in my grip.

  “Don’t worry. In divine timing,” I smile.

  5

  AIR ~ JANE

  Wednesday October 29, 2025

  The museum closes in fifteen minutes. I bounce my leg nervously under the desk in the gift shop. People are casually browsing the shelves in the tiny space where we sell postcards, soap, local chocolate, witchy books, posters, and herb seeds. The girls are coming at five-thirty for the séance.

  Even though we all agree we need to find this prophecy in Greek mythology, I still want to make contact with whoever, or whatever, that was who spoke to us here. They might be able to point us in the right direction, at least tell us which god or goddess we should research. Greek mythology has a plethora. A starting point would be nice.

  A customer places a copy of The Fortune Teller’s Handbook on the counter with a smile.

  “I’m roasting hot. I did not pack for this summer weather.” She’s using one of the black lace fans we sell. She snaps it shut and places it next to the book.

  “Yeah, it is an unseasonably warm day.” I ring up her order. As soon as I scan the fan, she opens it again with a whoosh and fans herself.

  “Well, hopefully it cools down later tonight.”

  “Hopefully.” I smile, placing her book in a paper bag and handing it over.

  I hear Dave’s voice echo through the house, warning people we’re closing soon. He’s been working here for twenty-five years now. He’s taken a real interest in my thesis; he majored in history. We geek out over that stuff a lot. Him and his partner Matt have had me over for dinner on a few occasions. He’s kind of taken on a fatherly role in my life, which is probably why he lets me get away with being late.

  My mom and dad split up when I was pretty young. He’s got a new wife and family now. I don’t really hear from him much anymore. Like, he didn’t call me on my birthday. Not that I expected him to. He hasn’t called me on my birthday since I turned eighteen. It’s like the moment I became a legal adult, the clock on his responsibility ran out.

  Dave herds the last of the guests into the shop. “Please make your final purchases. We’re locking the door in five minutes,” he calls out.

  “I’m going to do a final walk around, make sure I didn’t miss anyone. But I think that’s the last of them,” he says to me, heading back into the main area of the museum. It’s basically four big rooms and the space between them. It’s hard to hide in here.

  Moments later, Dave locks the door behind the final patron of the day.

  “So, a séance, huh?”

  “Yes. A séance.”

  “I didn’t think you believed in ghosts.”

  “I don’t. Well, I didn’t.” I hesitate. “I’ve had a weird few days, Dave, and things I used to think were impossible now seem… plausible.”

  “How so?”

  I meet his gaze, then look away and open the register to start counting the float. “If I told you, you’d have me locked up.”

  “Try me.”

  Do I tell him? That I’ve met three people with the same birthday as me, that we’re apparently descendants of gods, and we all have magic keepers guiding us through a prophecy? Yeah, no.

  “It’s just a silly little experiment.” I shrug. “It’s not that serious.”

  I can feel his eyes on me as I drop coins in, one at a time, with a loud clang, clang, clang.

  “Well, I believe in ghosts. I’ve heard too much. Seen too much. And I caution you—it is serious.”

  I laugh. “Come on, Dave. We’re just going to light some candles and probably talk to ourselves.”

 

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