So it was true. She really was the table at Starbucks everyone wanted.
"I think we have an hour," Calla said as Blue opened the attic door. "They should be back around eleven. Let me go first. In case …"
Blue raised an eyebrow. "What is it you’re thinking she has up here?"
"I don’t know."
"Ferrets?"
"Don’t be ridiculous."
"Wizards?"
Calla eased by Blue and began to climb the stairs. The single lightbulb that illuminated the attic didn’t reach far down the stairs. "That’s more likely. Oh, it smells."
"That’s the ferrets."
From her vantage point farther up the stairs, Calla shot Blue a look that Blue suspected was more dangerous than anything they’d find in the attic. Calla was right, however. The air that moved slowly around them was rather malodorous; Blue couldn’t place the scent, though it hinted at familiar things, like rotting onions and feet.
"Smells like sulfur," Blue said. "Or a dead body."
Thinking of the horrid voice coming from Neeve’s mouth before, she wouldn’t be surprised by either.
"Smells like asafetida," Calla corrected grimly.
"What’s that?"
"Either something that is delicious in curry, or something that is very useful in witchcraft."
Blue tried to breathe through her mouth. It was hard to imagine something that smelled so convincingly of a dead person’s feet being delicious in anything. "Which do you think it is?"
Calla had reached the top of the stairs.
"Not curry," she said.
Now that Blue stood at the top of the stairs, she could see that Neeve had transformed the attic into something quite different from what she remembered. A mattress covered with throw rugs lay directly on the floor. Around the room, unlit candles of different heights, dark bowls, and glasses of water were gathered in groups. Bright painters’ tape made patterns on the floor between some of the objects. Beside Blue’s feet, a half-burned plant stalk rested on a plate dusted with ashes. In one of the narrow dormers, two full-length, footed mirrors faced each other, reflecting mirrored images back and forth at each other in perpetuum.
Also, it was cold. The attic should not have been cold after the day’s heat.
"Don’t touch anything," Calla told Blue. Which Blue found ironic, considering why they’d come.
Blue didn’t touch anything, but she did walk farther into the room, peering at a small statue of a woman with eyes in her belly. The entire room was giving her a crawling feeling. "She must be making a lot of curry."
Behind them, the stairs creaked, and both Calla and Blue leapt.
"May I come up?" Persephone asked. It was an irrelevant question, as she was already "up." Wearing a lace frock Blue had made her, she stood at the top of the stairs. Her hair was tied up tightly, which signaled that she was not afraid to get her hands dirty.
"Persephone," Calla thundered. She’d gotten over her shock and was now merely angry at being shocked. "You should make some noise when you enter rooms."
"I did let the stair squeak," Persephone pointed out. "Maura said she’ll be back at midnight, so be done by then."
"She knows?" This was both Blue and Calla in unison.
Persephone crouched to look at a black leather mask with a long pointed beak. "You didn’t think she believed you about the dwarf movie, did you?"
Calla and Blue exchanged a look. Blue mused over what this meant: that Maura wanted to know more about Neeve as much as they did.
Blue asked, "Before we start, are you going to explain why Neeve said she was here in Henrietta?"
Calla moved around the room, rubbing her hands together as if she were either warming herself or planning what to pick up first. "That’s quite simple. Your mother had her out here to find your father."
"Well," Persephone corrected, "that is not quite true. Maura told me Neeve approached her first. Neeve said she might be able to find him."
"Out of the blue?" Calla asked.
"I’d prefer if you didn’t use that expression," Blue said.
"Out of nowhere?" Calla repeated. She picked up a candle. "That seems strange."
Blue crossed her arms. "I’m still missing a lot of details here."
Calla switched the candle from her left hand to her right. "Basically, your father showed up eighteen years ago, swept Maura off her feet, made her an absolutely useless friend for a year, got her pregnant, and then vanished after you were born. He was cagey and cute, so I assumed he was trailer-park trash with a police record."
"Calla!" Persephone admonished.
"It doesn’t bother me," Blue replied. How could she be bothered by a stranger’s past? "I just want to know the facts."
Persephone shook her head. "Do you have to be so sensible?"
Blue shrugged. She asked Calla, "What’s that candle telling you?"
Holding the candle out from her body, Calla squinted. "Just that it was used for a scrying spell. Locating objects, which is what I’d expect."
As Calla rummaged through more things, Blue thought about what she’d just learned about her father and found she still maintained her unreasonable fondness for him. She was also pleased that he’d been cute. She said, "I heard Mom telling Neeve that the search was meant to be like looking him up online."
"That sounds true," Calla said. "It was just curiosity. It’s not as if she’s been pining for him."
"Oh," Persephone murmured, "I don’t know about that."
This made Blue’s ears prick with interest. "Wait, you think my mother is still in love with — does he have a name?"
"Puppy," replied Calla, and Persephone giggled, clearly recalling memories of Maura insensible with love.
"I refuse to believe Mom ever called some man puppy," Blue said.
"Oh, but she did. Also lover." Calla picked up an empty bowl. There was a crust in the bottom, as if it had once held a liquid with some body to it. Like pudding. Or blood. "And butternut."
"You are making that up." Blue was ashamed for her mother.
Persephone, a little red from trying not to laugh, shook her head. Large hanks of hair had escaped from her knot, making her look as if she had escaped a tornado. "I’m afraid not."
"Why would you even call someone —"