Tangled Magick by Jennifer Carson Page A

carving tools out and didn’t sweep up the shavings.”
    â€œAnd you have to pick your mother a pumpkin.” Aletta smiled. “I’ll see you on Thursday, Leif. For tea. And I’ll try to convince Faria to let me get rid of the piskies.”
    Leif shook his head. “I hope they don’t steal away with the household before then.”
    The wizard waved as she made her way up the road. Her steps were slower than usual, as if she had no place to really be. Leif watched her walk away until the bend in the road hid her from view. He turned and jogged into the field.
    He smiled as he remembered the time pumpkins in Mae’s field grew with jack-o’-lantern faces. He twisted a nice round pumpkin from the stem and brushed the dirt from its smooth orange skin. They’d have to harvest all the pumpkins in the next couple of days—it was getting so cold at night, Leif knew snow would be falling soon. He hefted the pumpkin into the crook of his arm and made his way toward home.
    His mother was waiting for him, wooden spoon in hand, as he came through the door. “Have you seen my jar of ginger?”
    Leif placed the pumpkin on the kitchen work table. The piskies had probably taken the ginger, but his mother would never admit that.
    Faria followed him into the kitchen and began rifling through the cupboard. “I’ve got my nutmeg, the cinnamon, brown sugar… Where the ogre dung is my jar of ginger?”
    â€œSorry, Ma. I haven’t seen it.” He left her rummaging in the kitchen, returning to his carving spot by the fire. He tossed ina couple of logs to keep the draft at bay, and then pointed to the broom. “
Sveipa
!”
    It shook itself awake and then swept into motion, pushing the wood shavings and dust into the fireplace and then resuming its position in the corner. Leif rubbed his hands over the flames, warming them. He hoped Mae was staying warm on the journey. Running his hands through his hair, he sighed. His mother would say he needed to stop mooning, but the Wedge just wasn’t the same without her.
    He turned from the fire and collected his tools. Where was his gouge? Leif looked under the table and ran his hand under the chair. He pulled out a bit of dust and red hair from the floor under the chair, but no gouge. He slammed his hand on the floor, making the dust rise, which made him sneeze. “Goose pie!” he said through clenched teeth. What would those piskies need with his carving tool?
    He stomped over to the hole in the baseboard and peered in. “Give it back!”
    A tiny squealing laugh floated out of the hole. “Finders keepers, hapa-ninny!”

Chapter 8
    P oppy flopped into the armchair. “You have an idea of how to get us out of here? Well, I’d love to hear it!”
    â€œI can transform this carving Leif gave me into a real owl,” Mae said, turning toward her friend.
    â€œAnd how is that going to help us?” Poppy frowned.
    Mae paced the room. “We can get her out of the castle from the window and she can go back to the Wedge and get help.”
    â€œHow will she know how to get there or who to look for?”
    â€œI’ll make sure when I create her that I give her the right memories.”
    â€œBut we don’t know how we got here, Mae! Who’s to say she’ll ever find her way to the Wedge? She could just fly around forever. What about the magick that cloaks the castle?”
    â€œIt’s the best shot we’ve got to get word to Aletta.” Mae scowled.
    Poppy shrugged. “What about Trina, or the hidden passageway?”
    â€œTrina is too small,” Mae said.
    The little squirrel glared at her and made an indignant squeak.
    â€œIt would take you too long to get to the Wedge, Trina. I’m sorry, but it’s true. What were you thinking about the passageway?” Mae asked.
    â€œLet’s explore it tomorrow when the queen is in the Great Room. If it leads