She looked at the sisters. “Why are we here?”
“Our world is full of cracks... or so I’ve heard,” Brooxie said. “Thin spots. Places where reality wavers.”
“It’s one thing to stumble on such a crack,” Ruby said crossly. “To seek a crack on purpose—and find it—is something else entirely.”
“Ruby, be nice,” Brooxie said. To Willow, she added, “When my sister’s a sourpuss, it means she’s scared.” She bobbed her head from side to side. “Not an unreasonable response to magic, I suppose.”
Magic.Willow was in a root cellar with two women talking about magic, and neither Brooxie nor Ruby seemed to find it the least bit strange. Brooxie ate mayonnaise straight from the jar, true—but everybody had an odd quirk or two. Juniper refused to let her peas touch her mashed potatoes. Willow’s mother refused to use wire clothes hangers. And Ash? Ha. Ash was a toilet paper tyrant. She flipped every roll she encountered to “over, not under.” Even in other people’s homes. Even in restaurants.
But quirks like that wouldn’t get you institutionalized. Brooxie and Ruby were both adults. Both seemed to have their mental faculties intact. Yet here they were, discussing magic in the same tone they’d use to discuss canned corn.
Ruby took Willow by the wrist and pulled her across the root cellar, stopping in front of the door.
“There you go,” she said. “That’s your test.”
“Test?” Willow said.
“Can you pass through it, pet?” Brooxie asked.
Willow furrowed her brow. “Passthroughit?”
“If you’re worthy of the Box, you’ll have no trouble,” Ruby said.
Willow gaped at her. Then she let out a disbelieving laugh. “You want me to walk through a stone door. Just... pass right through it.”
Ruby’s expression didn’t change.
“If you can’t, there’s no reason to continue your search for the Box,” Brooxie said. “It would be a waste of time—yours and ours.”
“Why?”
“Because the Box doesn’t let just anyone in,” Brooxie replied.
“The Box doesn’t let most people in,” Ruby added. “Hasn’t happened once in our lifetime, has it? Hardly seems likely it’ll change its mind now.”
“But it might,” Brooxie argued good-naturedly. “And Ruby’s right—proof of magic is a good place to start.” She tilted her head at the door. “Give it a try. Why not?”
Why not? Um, because walking into a slab of stone was a good way to break your nose? Not to mention the damage Willow’s ego would suffer when she hit the stone and bounced right off.
But. The Box. Both sisters were acting like it was a real thing, as real as the stone door in front of them.
“You do know it, then,” she said. “You know the Box I’m talking about, and you know where to find it.”
“Amira knows where to find it,” Brooxie clarified. “We know where to find Amira.”
“And you’ll take me to her if I...?” She spun her fingers at the stone door.
“We’ll arrange a meeting,” Brooxie said. “Yes.”
Right. Okay. Willow eyed the door with a scowl, sizing it up. She rolled her neck and rotated her shoulders.
“No problem,” she muttered. “Just walk straight through the stone. Easy-peasy.”
She stepped forward and pressed a palm against the stone, which was solid and cold. It rippled, and Willow gasped and jerked back. The stone went still.
Behind her, Ruby sighed.
“Ruby,” Brooxie warned.
