I wondered how much the whole pumpkin patch would cost. But even with a truckload of them, I'd run out of pumpkins long before Nana gave up on her not-so-sneaky inquiries.

I settled for the three big pumpkins, five mediums, and a bevy of smaller ones. The Avalon's trunk was pretty full.

When I arrived home, the motorcycle was gone; I'd missed Johnny. I wondered if he might be avoiding me. Maybe he just had to get «supplies» for our evaluation.

I hauled the pumpkins to the garage and went in, having to push past Ares—ever an overly enthusiastic greeter and getting bigger by the day. In the kitchen, Nana sat at the table, wearing an oversized shirt of gaudy cabbage roses and brown pants with her pink slippers. It didn't surprise me to see the binder with the photocopied Trivium Codex open on the table before her. We'd used a spell from the Codex, an ancient book equivalent to the Holy Grail as far as witches were concerned, to heal Theo. Since Vivian had stolen it from Menessos, he took it back as soon as the ritual was completed, but not before clever Johnny had secretly photocopied it.

Nana had been translating the Codex from its archaic Latin into English, consulting with Dr. Geoffrey Lincoln, the vet who'd helped us take care of Theo and been involved in the ritual that saved her. The doc was more expert in Latin than Nana.

The coffee smelled fabulous and I realized my usual morning dose of caffeine was late. I pulled my favorite mug bearing Waterhouse's Lady of Shalott from the cabinet.

Nana said, "So, I was sitting here, and suddenly I hear 'Folsom Prison Blues'!" She chuckled. "It was Johnny's phone singing! Said it was his boss calling. Did you know those cell phones can have anything as a ring? What did he call it?" She tapped the pages before her. "Ringtone. Yes, ringtone. Any ringtone from any song or sound ever. And different ones for different callers, so he knows exactly who's calling by what song plays."

I wondered if he had a special ringtone for my number. What song would he pick for me?

"Anyway, they got an order for a bunch of seven-string guitars for Germany. Ain't that rich? Global business, happening in your home in the middle of an Ohio cornfield with not a skyscraper in sight."

Nana wasn't grilling and badgering this morning? Maybe I'd been wrong about her. She wasn't pressing me about the Eximium. My shoulders eased, tension fading as I savored my coffee.

"Now tell me, Seph, how are you going to get out of this Eximium?"

I tried ignoring her, sorted through the grocery ads on the counter. "Asparagus is on sale. Two dollars a pound."

"We need to talk about this."

"Have you come across anything in the Codex about fairies?" I asked. Maybe inquiring about Aquula would distract her.

"No. Why?"

"Just wondering."

"Don't try to change the subject, Persephone. We were discussing you getting out of that competition."

"No we weren't. You were telling me to get out of it. And I'm not. It's the right thing for the right reason, and nothing you can say is going to change my mind."

I'd said it firmly enough that Nana closed the copy of the Codex with an angry flip of her hand and announced she was going upstairs to sew.

Damn it. She does her sneakiest thinking when she's quilting.

I went about my normal routine and parked myself in front of the computer. Email, the first order of business, turned up a message from WEC with Eximium as the subject:

Congratulations Persephone Alcmedi on your recent nomination to the Venefica Covenstead High Priestess Eximium.

A nomination is a high honor and we expect your performance in this contest will prove your skill and potential. We always receive numerous inquiries as to the best way to prepare for an Eximium, but we can offer no advice except to be physically, mentally, and magically ready for any challenge.

The Elders overseeing this Eximium look forward to meeting you.

We expect you to arrive this Saturday at least one half-hour before the dawn.

Blessed Be.

While the physical training session I'd been looking forward to would keep my energy level up and work my concentration in ways that I hadn't in a while, I wondered what Hunter Hopewell would be doing to prepare. Surely nothing that promised to chip her nail polish.

That led my thoughts back to Nana calling me a bully.

Defiantly promising myself that I could beat Hunter Hopewell in nonphysical ways, I got out my Book of Shadows and studied gemstones and their correlations with herbs. I reviewed poppets, runes, and astrology. By then, my coffee was cold. I dumped it out and poured myself a fresh cup.

As I resumed my seat, the computer beeped. I had a new email. It was a revision request from Jimmy Martin, the editor for my "Waere Are You" column. Newspaper deadlines are forever tight, so I immediately tended to it, then did some preliminary Web research for the follow-up piece and left myself sticky notes.

Thinking about waeres, however, turned into thinking about Johnny and daydreaming about his hard, lean body and how sparring with him might lend me some insight into what other kinds of physical exertions with him might be like. And I was more disappointed than ever that he'd been called away to work.

Before I knew it, Nana was rambling in the refrigerator and making herself a scrambled egg sandwich as lunch. The day was getting away from me.

I went outside with my broom and reset my perimeter wards so they included the bulk of the yard as well as the house. That done, I put my broom away and carried my Book of Shadows upstairs. As I passed Nana's room, I noticed she was working with shiny green fabric. Not the type of material she normally uses on quilts.

Then I noticed a pattern package on the floor: Beverley's Hallowe'en costume. A mermaid.

Without stopping or commenting, I proceeded to my room and put my Book of Shadows in its place, but my thoughts had returned to Aquula's warning. I still had to do more than protect myself. I had to warn Menessos. And I remembered the contact information included in the documents about the painting.

Aha! Though I wasn't about to call and leave a message, I could email him and not have to get anywhere near him.

I wrote and rewrote the email a half-dozen times to be sure it was as sterile and to the point as it could be. Cursor on the send button, finger poised to hit the mouse, I re-read it one last time:

A fairy of your acquaintance, Aquula, paid me a visit. She warned me that a certain three others of her kind are plotting against you. I thought you should know.

Persephone

I clicked the send button.

I had no idea how often he checked his email—and for some reason imagining Menessos logging in to check email seemed ridiculous to me. He couldn't possibly get it until nightfall, but that wasn't my problem. I'd warned him. Even if my conscience murmured that I was taking the easy-cheesy way out, I'd done something.

Beverley had accomplished her spelling and math goals so we set up the folding table in the garage, covered it in newspaper, and were just placing chairs around it when Johnny arrived. He slipped into the bathroom before I even saw him, and when he came out he was wearing a long-sleeved thermal tee, sweatpants, and sneakers. All of it was black, of course, even his socks, but seeing him in sweatpants made me think…

When we'd done the spell to heal Theo, I'd had to rummage through everyone's suitcases to find clothes to take down to the kennel in the cellar. The waeres had all taken wolf form and when morning came, they'd need human clothing. I remembered that there were no undies in Johnny's suitcase. Come to think, his laundry never included them either.

The sweatpants might be interesting. He had, of course, dressed in loose-fitting clothes in preparation for the evaluation.