Lucky Caller(34)

“What kind of spell?” Jamie said.

“A witch cast a curse on you that makes you forget everything good in your life and in the world. You’ll forget things one by one until only the worst, most terrible memories and things remain, and it’ll drive you into a deep despair.”

Rose and I blinked at each other. Sidney was ten. What did she know about deep despair?

“That’s kinda dark, Sid,” Jamie said.

She shrugged.

“How long have I got?”

“Until you’ve forgotten all the good stuff?” She paused to consider. “A few days, maybe.”

“What do I lose first?”

“Cake,” she said. “You forget about cake. All cake, in order, starting with the best kind of cake and ending with the worst kind of cake.”

“What’s the worst kind?”

“Fruitcake, at Christmas.”

“And the best?”

“Chocolate.”

“No.” I frowned. “The best are those ones you see online where you cut them open and the inside is hollow and a bunch of M&M’s pour out.”

“You’re both wrong. The best is vanilla with rainbow sprinkles, and the worst is carrot,” Rose said. “Regardless, you’ve lost every kind of cake.”

“And your favorite book when you were a kid,” Sidney added. “And your best friend from school.”

“Geez,” Jamie said. “How long until I lose mac and cheese?”

“You just did,” she replied, and Jamie’s face split into a grin.

“Ruthless. Okay.” He looked between the three of us. “What do we do first?”



* * *



The Eastman consisted of two towers joined together by a central lobby that housed the front desk, the leasing office, and the three ballrooms. There was also a small indoor pool on the west side of the building and the offices of a few businesses, all connected by a main hallway. It was a pretty nice building in terms of amenities, but parts of it were definitely wearing down a bit. My mom complained occasionally about the lack of upkeep, particularly in the units—paint peeling away on the ceiling, appliances wearing down. A screen on one of the windows in our bedroom had had a hole in it for ages. We hadn’t opened that window in years.

Still, the rent was affordable, and it was either way nicer or way cheaper than a lot of other places around here—not too close, but not too far of a drive to the School of Medicine, where Mom worked.

For Kingdom, we designated different areas of the Eastman as different parts of the kingdom. The pool was a swamp, and the mail area was a magical vault. Certain parts of the parking lot had their own designations—the area by the trees where the barbecue stood was a sacred glen, the concrete parts without shade were the Wilds. Even employees of the Eastman, albeit unknowingly, took part in our game.

The front desk attendant had to walk the perimeter of the building every couple of hours. (“Expressly whenever I need to get a package,” Mom would say. “Somehow they always know, and they choose that exact moment to leave.”) We made that person—whoever it happened to be—into a member of the Evil King’s Watch. We would run and hide from them, track their movements, create plans to infiltrate their guard.

For this particular game, this resurrected game, we entered the stairwell on our floor under Sidney’s direction: “We’re busting Hapless out of a tower,” she said. “Go up there, and we’ll come get you.”

Jamie went ahead of us to the landing between the ninth and tenth floors.

“How do we know how to find him?” Rose asked.

“Magic intel.”

“Do we know that he’s under the curse?”

Sidney nodded.

“How?”

“Magic intel,” she repeated more insistently.

“Who’s our magic source? Where is the intel coming from?” I said.

Sidney looked annoyed. “A frog told me. A magical talking frog. He jumped out of a pond and he told me. Is that okay with you?”

Rose hid a smile. “Lead the way.”

When we started up the stairs from the ninth floor and found Jamie on the landing, he was sitting on the ground, slumped against the wall. With one look up at us—baffled, exhausted, confused—I remembered how good at pretend he was.

“What’s happening?” he said. “What are you doing here?”

Sidney crouched by him. “You’ve been cursed, but everything will be okay if you do exactly what we say.”

“You have my word,” he replied, all princely dignity. But then his expression sank back into confusion. “I have to get back to my castle. There are things I need to do. I have to see to my people and feed my dog. His name is…” He trailed off, looking off into the distance with a puzzled look on his face.

“What?” Sidney prompted.

“Sorry?”

“His name is what?”

Jamie’s brow scrunched. “Who?”

Sidney looked at me in delight.

“On your feet,” Rose said. “Let’s get out of here.”

I extended a hand to Jamie and he clasped it, grinning at me. “Let’s go.”





31.