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if she must.

Should the scissors call to you upon the open wave,

put them down and leave your locks.

The sea won’t misbehave.

Should you wish to travel far and return to tell the tale,

place hoops of gold upon your ears

so good winds fill your sail.

FROM THE LITTLE GLASS OWL’S BOOK OF LUCKY CHARMS AND AUSPICIOUS OMENS, COMPILED BY ELECTRA GLASS

SEVEN

A FOWL WIND BLOWS

Tempest stood on the pavement outside Owl’s with a key in one hand and a takeout bag in the other. It was after nine and the store was closed. She’d spent her day off working on the bluebird bus and she was tired. She was really looking forward to eating her spicy ramen.

The lights were off in the front section of the store, but she could see people moving around in the meeting area, past the classics section. Her fingers were shaky in the lock. She didn’t recall there being any sort of special event tonight. None that she’d been told about. It wasn’t one of the ABCs’ birthdays.

The floor was vibrating. Thumping music was filtering from the recesses of the store, and the ceiling was lit with swirling party lights. She could hear a group chanting and cheering.

“Cle-ment! Cle-ment! Cle-ment!” Someone wolf-whistled and the flash of a camera temporarily blinded her. She ran into a table and stubbed her toe.

That was strange. There wasn’t supposed to be a table there. The shop floor had been rearranged.

As the stars in her eyes subsided, she saw that all the rare and special edition used books were gone. The normally bursting shelves along the left side wall were empty. All the exposed blond wood looked pale and naked in the lamplight from the street. The intake desk, normally littered with flyers and local newspapers, in addition to books, was completely cleared off as well. She looked up.

Her mother’s sign was gone.

Tempest left her takeout order sitting on the barren counter as she went to investigate what was clearly a celebration.

“Ar-chie! Ar-chie! Arc-hie!”

Now the crowd was cheering for her stepbrother.

She had to dodge several people to reach the large interior section where they occasionally set up parties and corporate events. There were a ton of revelers packed into the tight space. The floor was sticky with spilled spirits.

Someone had hung a banner between the small business and the religion sections. It read:

OWLS IS NOW FOWLER’s! THE NEW CHAPTER BEGINS.

There was the image of a crowing rooster on the sign and Tempest couldn’t help but notice the puffed-up cockerel’s striking resemblance to her stepfather. It had to be a joke.

Glancing around she realized that practically the entire staff of Owl’s was present. The junior salesclerks, the cafe staff, the Saturday volunteers she had trained herself, one by one over the years. She had no idea what was going on, but the hollow pit in her gut told her that whatever it was, it wasn’t good for her.

They were all grinning and holding up drinks. She saw their cleaning crew. Evgenia, who had been polishing the floors since Tempest was a toddler, startled as Tempest caught her eye. Her bright smile vanished and she looked away quickly.

Suddenly Barnabas appeared at her elbow with a shot glass of something green. It looked and smelled like bad medicine. He shoved it at her.

“Look who deigned to join us. Drink up, Pestie. Dad’s about to say a few words.”

She held the glass, but she didn’t drink.

Clement was wearing his moth-eaten, beige tweed jacket. Too short and too tight, but he thought the suede patches on the elbows made him look smart. He dug in his pocket for notes.