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magical sack, but before Scirye had trapped the hag inside her own bag instead, she’d taken the hag’s belt. They hadn’t been able to work out what power the other charms might have, but they thought the otter charm was what had let the wearer get free of the bag’s hold. She now kept the otter charm separate in its own pouch around her neck with a charm from the goddess Pele.
    â€œMay I, Lady Scirye?” M ā ka asked, and when Scirye nodded, the sorceress leaned over to examine the charms on the belt.
    Scirye tugged the glove down to hide the mark. “Can you figure out what some of them do?” she asked her hopefully.
    M ā ka shook her head. “I can feel the power, but I’m not sure from which ones.”
    â€œToo bad,” Leech sighed. “We need all the help we can get. We’re not sure what Roland intends to do with the ring and the bow, but we have to stop him.”
    Falling on her knees, M ā ka hugged Tute. “I told you there was a reason why our show went wrong. The goddess wants us to aid Her chosen one.” She paused dramatically. “It’s Destiny!” Sometimes M ā ka spoke as if her words were on a theater marquee.
    â€œThe show went bad because you’re one of the worst magicians in the world,” Tute grumped.
    M ā ka tweaked a furry, pointed ear. “I’ll have you know my magic is good enough to astound the crowned heads of Europe and Asia.”
    â€œOnly with how terrible you are.” Tute closed his eyes. “Do these poor people a favor and leave them alone.”
    M ā ka leaned forward and pursed her lips as she scratched Tute between the ears. “Oh, did Mr. Grouchy Pants wake up on the wrong side of the bed?” she cooed.
    Tute opened one eye. “Do not treat a powerful lynx like a common alley cat, missy!” Even so, his tail had started to twitch with pleasure.
    M ā ka winked at the others as she continued to stroke the lynx. “Don’t mind Tute. Some day his manners will match the size of his pride.”
    â€œThat will happen long before your skills match your confidence,” Tute murmured.
    â€œHa, ha.” M ā ka laughed nervously. “Tute will have his little joke.” But as she sat back, a small, palm-sized book dropped from her sleeve onto the stone floor. Before the girl could snatch it back up, Scirye read the title. The Beginner’s Grimoire: Easy Spells for Children.
    M ā ka hastily stowed the book back into her sleeve before she opened the basket. Inside it were a battered tin kettle and cups along with a small box of tea. As she scooped some snow into the kettle and set it on top of two large rocks that sat in the middle of the fire, Scirye couldn’t help noticing odd red stains on M ā ka’s skirt.
    Koko sniffed the air. “It’s funny, but I swear I can smell ketchup.”
    Tute’s ear rotated and then pointed toward M ā ka. “That would be the hothouse tomatoes they tossed at her.”
    â€œOur audience was kind enough to share their humble repast with us,” M ā ka tried to correct him.
    â€œThey threw it at you. Since when is that sharing?” Lifting his head, Tute explained to Scirye and her friends, “We’d been hired to entertain at a town banquet, but when M ā ka kept bungling the tricks, they flung vegetables at us.”
    â€œTheir ‘offerings’ made a very nice soup that you were more than happy to have.” Licking a finger, M ā ka rubbed vigorously at a stain. “You need to look up the definition of ‘tipping.’”
    â€œYou need to look up the definition of ‘criticism.’” Tute placed his forepaws together in an earnest plea. “Either improve your magic or get so bad that they won’t notice what they’re grabbing and toss steaks instead. And in the meantime, leave these poor folk alone.”
    The last thing they needed was a