Being a rich heiress kind of sucked.

Lily stared at the monstrous project towering before her and then at the enormous stack of code violations she cradled in her arms. The page count rivaled the length of a Leo Tolstoy novel, but was a lot less interesting. Well, truth be told, she had never attempted War and Peace, but it had to be more interesting than… She paused to read, “the safety standards for automatically fired boilers as adopted by the Department of Boring.”

The attorney had given her a summary of the trust’s basic scopes and limitations. Their ancestors had cared more about a pile of rotting plaster than they had their descendants. They could fix a toilet, but they couldn’t buy shampoo. They could line the driveway with rocks, but they couldn’t buy a car. They could shingle the roof, but they couldn’t clothe themselves. They could rewire the entire house, but they couldn’t buy food.

Oh, except for the provision that if they had future caretakers of Goode blood—yes, it actually specified a blood descendant—they’d receive a ten-thousand-dollar bonus for baby one, and five thousand for each after.

“And this explains why Marigold and Joseph bothered to have children,” she grumbled. Though to be fair, back in the 1890s when the trust had been written, ten thousand was probably a much bigger payday.

She couldn’t be sure, but it looked as if Polly had been by to rearrange the gnomes. They had not seen her staying at the hotel which didn’t mean she wasn’t there, but Lily had no idea where Polly went when she wasn’t at the house. More gnomes were along the front of the house. Yellow, blue, and red hats poked up from the bushes. The black cat was back, staring at her from the tree like a silent judge. The gnome couple stayed on the front porch holding their “welcome” sign.

Lily frowned at the inanimate figures. “I could have sworn your sign said something else.”

The gnomes continued to stare with their cheery little faces.

“Never mind all that. I don’t suppose you know what,” she glanced at the stack of papers, “reduction of friable asbestos means?”

She looked expectantly at the yard décor, knowing it wouldn’t answer.

“No? Me neither.”

After they left the attorney’s office, Lily had spent the rest of the day calling every contractor she could find within a fifteen-mile radius. No one wanted to work on the Goode house. The following day, she had called every contractor within a fifty-mile radius. One had laughed at her and hung up. So, today she was here, trying to figure out what “the replacement of minor parts which alters the approval of formerly working equipment” referred to.

Hearing a car, she turned to see her brother driving their old sedan on the road from town. She shaded her eyes in the early morning sun to watch him. He’d dropped her off so she could get started, but for the most part she’d merely walked around the exterior with her pile of citations and a feeling of dread.

“Picked up breakfast... well, early lunch,” Dante called through the window as he parked the car. The driveway was more of an overgrown suggestion than an actual path. Lily went toward the window and took the to-go cup he handed her. The green coffee sleeve read, “Stammerin’ Eddie’s.”

“Mm, thank you.” Lily gave a small moan. She didn’t usually eat in the mornings, so Dante hadn’t bothered to bring actual food.

Dante joined her on the lawn and glanced at the papers she held. “Have you been inside yet?”

“No. I didn’t want to go in alone. I walked the grounds. The siding seems to be in decent shape. Paint should help.” Even as she said it, Lily wasn’t convinced. “Oh, and someone spray-painted a weird symbol and the words ‘get out or you’ll be sorry’ on the back of the house.”

“Maybe we should take their advice.” Dante chuckled. “Money isn’t everything. Let that Polly person have the trust fund if she likes this place so much.”

Lily handed the trust summary to him. “Nope, sorry. Polly isn’t part of the Goode bloodline, so she can’t.”

Dante looked it over. “Does this actually say we’re paid to procreate?”

“It says as the oldest, I’m worth twice as much as you.”

“If we pay it back do we get to leave?” Dante pretended to be serious.

“This whole thing is crazy,” Lily said. “I didn’t realize it when we were here last time, but the driveway curves around the side yard into the back, where there’s a barn garage, a few outbuildings, and a couple of cottages along the tree line. They look like they’ve fared about as well as the house.”

“I still can’t figure out what this Nolan guy’s problem is.” Dante reached into the middle of the stack she carried and randomly pulled out several sheets. “Tree limbs over a drive must be at least fifteen feet above the ground. Current height is fourteen feet and two inches.” He arched a brow. “This constitutes the emergency repair pile?”

“He’s just doing his job,” Lily defended. “It probably has to do with large vehicle clearance or something.”

“Right, because this is such a widely used thoroughfare.” Dante made a show of looking around the empty country roads and flipped to another page. “No available parking. It is against code to park on the lawn. So on the one hand, our trees are too low over the driveway, and on the other, there is no driveway.” He glanced down to where the rock driveway was overgrown. He flipped to the next one. “Too many nuisance weeds.” He gave a meaningful glance to a stray thistle growing along the edge of the drive and then the overgrown flower beds. “No one shall operate a cattery on premises without a license. We are being blamed for stray cats living on the property.”

“Fine. He’s anal retentive,” Lily allowed. It was too bad. When she first saw the man at the lawyer’s office, she’d thought he looked nice. He had a kind smile—what she could see under his beard, anyway. Normally, she had a good sense of people. One of her foster mothers had told her she had good instincts because of her rough life. Another of her foster mothers told her she was crazy and imagining things.

Lily lifted the coffee cup to take a drink but stopped when a light flashed from behind her. It lit up her brother’s face with a pink glow. She turned to look at the house. Another pink flash briefly illuminated the windows all at once. “What was that?”

“Ghost disco,” Dante answered.

Lily chuckled. “Come on, funny man, let’s see what’s going on inside. My bet is on electrical problems. Maybe the place will burn down and save us the trouble.”

“I wonder if the trust will let us build a new house instead.” Dante lifted the stack of papers from her to carry them.

“No. Only the current structures—the house, maybe the barn, shed, and cottages.” She led the way up the porch. The door cracked opened with a small nudge.

“I like your security system,” Dante teased.

“You’re in charge of installing the locks. Thank you for volunteering.” Lily was really glad her brother had come to Colorado with her. Without his smart-mouthed support, she would have been a mess.

“Hey, seriously, all jokes aside.” Dante stopped her from going in. “Forget those contractors. Who cares if they won’t come out here and help us? We’ll make this place great. It’ll be ours. We’ll figure it out.”

Lily nodded. “A home. Our home. A place no one can take away from us.”

“Or make us leave.” Dante opened the door all the way.

Lily lifted the coffee to her lips and took a sip.

She wasn’t sure if it was the grainy, bitter flavor of the coffee, or the sight that greeted her, but the horrible liquid spewed from her lips.

Droplets landed on the wood floor—the clean wood floor.

“I thought you didn’t come inside,” Dante said. “How did you do all of this work?”

“I didn’t.” Lily stepped along the front hall. The sheets had been pulled from the furniture. The room had been dusted and cleaned. Though clearly an antique, the Gothic-inspired chest next to the stairs looked as if it would double as a bench. “This place was condemnable, right? I mean, I didn’t hallucinate that?”

“No, but you have coffee on your chin,” Dante answered.

Lily swiped the back of her hand over her mouth. “This is the worse coffee I’ve ever tasted, by the way.”

Dante chuckled. “I know. I threw mine out already. It’s vile.”

“You ass,” Lily grumbled as she set the cup down on the chest.

“Hey, you told me if I ate a spider I’d become a superhero,” he countered.

“We were kids, and spiders probably taste better than whatever that is.” Lily pointed at the cup. “Expect payback, spider boy.”

The lights were on and didn’t flicker. Wallpaper no longer curled along the edges as if someone had rehung it. Wood floors gleamed—not just polished, but sanded and re-stained. The house was nothing like they’d first seen. Lily wasn’t about to complain, but she couldn’t figure out how it had gone from a nightmare to livable in only a few days.

As if to provide an answer, the pink light flashed several times, coming from upstairs.

“That’s not arcing electricity.” Dante set the stack of papers next to the cup.

“Did we step into an alternate dimension?” Lily leaned to look up the stairs. Nerves caused her stomach to flutter and tighten. For some reason she couldn’t fathom, she was scared of investigating the light. Each flash tried to stir deep memories, and she forcibly refused to give them attention.

“Bip. Bap. Twiddle-diddle-dap. No job is too big for Polly’s Perfectly Magical Mystical Maids, Mops, and Lollipops.” Polly’s voice drifted down from above, followed by several more flashing pink lights. “Oh, drat! I forgot the lollipops.”

“Polly?” Lily called.

“I’m almost done,” Polly answered. “I’ll be right down. Go introduce yourself to Herman in the dining room. He’s been eager to meet you.”

“She must know a contractor named Herman,” Dante said. “She said something about him finding a wrench in her trunk when we first arrived.”

“Oh, bless her,” Lily whispered in relief. “Now I don’t have to learn how to replace a water heater.”

“Bippity, bappity, himble-bimble.” Polly’s soft voice drifted down.

“That woman is nuttier than a Christmas fruitcake.” Dante led the way through the lower level looking for Herman. First he took them right, past the stairs into the library. The books no longer appeared at the point of disintegration and the strange musty smell was gone. Several antique chairs with striped cushion seats surrounded a round table. A writing desk was against a wall, the drawers closed with a key in the lock, inviting anyone to look inside.

As they moved through the rooms, she couldn’t help but stare in amazement. They were all as pristine as the entryway. To the left of the stairs was a living room. The red and gold velvet couch had sloped seat backs, wooden scroll legs, and armrests. It matched the chair next to it. The fireplace mantel was carved from stone. They didn’t go inside as they moved down the hallway.

Also to the left, the dining room table had been uncovered. Its stately lines looked as if it could seat fourteen people easily. Matching chairs were placed around it, except for one of the chairs that lay on its side against the wall with a broken leg. A purple-hatted gnome statue was placed next to it, as if guarding the furniture. He held a red mushroom in his hand.

Someone had placed a plastic, blue, children’s swimming pool in the middle of the table. She frowned, not sure that was the best idea for the wood finish.

Lily glanced inside to find a single lobster floating along the bottom. Water filled the pool. A piece of material clung to the side rim. It appeared to be a doll hat.

“I guess we know what we’re having for dinner,” Dante joked.

If she wasn’t mistaken, the lobster actually turned to look at her brother.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

“I think I hear someone at the door.” Lily didn’t take her eyes off the lobster.

“I didn’t hear anything, but I’ll look. Maybe it’s Herman.” He moved to leave the way they came. “You check the kitchen and basement.”

“Herman?” Lily called. She walked toward the kitchen and looked in. No one was there, but the room was mysteriously as clean as the rest of the house. However, the appliances still looked old and would have to be replaced. On the left, the kitchen doorway led back to the empty living room, so she turned away to check the basement off the mudroom. It was dark when she peeked down, so she didn’t bother searching farther.

She went back to the dining room, only to find the lobster had somehow climbed out of his pool and was standing on the edge of the table, watching her. Little watery drops followed where he had walked.

Lily bit her lip, not wanting to touch the crustacean, but also not wanting to see it fall over the side. She slowly reached out her hand, keeping an eye on its pinchers for aggression. It didn’t move, and she was able to lift the creature off the table and back toward the pool.

“Oh, I just knew you would make friends.” Polly clapped.

Lily jumped slightly in surprise but managed to place the lobster in the water.

Polly wore a lime-green dress with a white apron. The skirt flared out around her legs, showing a thickly layered pink petticoat beneath. Peasant sleeves puffed up around her upper arms. Her red hair was pulled into a bun.

“Was he being naughty?” Polly went to the lobster and pointed at it. “Herman, you need to behave yourself. You know you get grouchy if you don’t get your daily water time.”

“I didn’t see anyone.” Dante appeared behind Polly. “Fabulous dress.”

“Thank you, Florus.” Polly grinned. “I was just thinking I need to buy one for your sister. Is gray the only color shirt she owns? We really need to liven up her wardrobe.”

“Dante, meet Herman.” Lily motioned toward the lobster.

To her brother’s credit, he held back his laughter. “Pleasure to meet—”

Herman quickly turned away as if purposefully ignoring Dante.

“Oh, that’s peculiar. He doesn’t like you.” Polly eyed Dante. “We’ll have to get to the bottom of this mystery.”

“Dante did threaten to eat him,” Lily tattled.

“Florus Dante Goode,” Polly scolded with a shake of her finger. “Apologize to Herman at once.”

“My apologies, sir.” Dante gave a mocking bow to the crustacean.

“If that’s Herman, who fixed the house?” Lily motioned around. “I called every contractor I could find and none of them would touch this place.”

“So much power in the walls,” Polly answered. “Can’t you feel it tingling in your toes? I forgot how special this place was. They pulled it from the mines you know, the old power source.”

The strange thing was, Lily did feel something. She wouldn’t call it tingling, but it was a familiar pull. She heard the sound of footsteps overhead, and then laughter. “Who is that? Is someone else here?”

“I didn’t hear anything,” Dante answered.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

“I swear someone is knocking,” Lily insisted.

“Old houses are full of old noises,” Polly dismissed.

“Hey, Polly.” Lily grabbed the woman by the shoulders and gently forced her to look at her. “I need a straight answer. What do you know about this place? Have we been here before? Like when we were kids?”

“Of course you have, sugar bee. All Goodes are born in this house. It’s the way it’s been since the house was built, with the bones of the old country and the wood of the new.” Polly patted the hands on her shoulders. “You’re so far behind of being ahead. It’s no wonder you’ve been drifting. But don’t you worry. Aunt Polly is here now, and I’m staying as long as I’m needed to help you find your way.”

Polly was moving in with them?

“Don’t you have a home you need to get back to?” Dante asked.

“This is what Marigold would have wanted,” Polly said. “Don’t you worry about me. I’m always where I’m supposed to be.”

Lily’s hands trembled, and she pulled them away from the woman. “I appreciate that you had some kind of friendship with my mother, but what you feel for her, and what we, as her children, feel for her are very different emotions. It took me a long time to come to terms with what I remember, the pieces we all remember.”

Lily glanced up at Dante for confirmation. He crossed his arms over his chest and didn’t speak. They didn’t like talking about the past, especially not to strangers, but Polly needed to know. The woman needed to stop acting like Marigold Crawford Goode was a fit mother and a decent person who blessed them with this great gift.

“My mother wasn’t well. She did things and said things that made little sense. Her moods were dramatic ups and downs. We’re pretty sure she might have been bipolar. Or it could have just been the drugs she was on. At the time, I didn’t realize fully what we were doing, but she used to drive us down to scary parts of various towns and leave us in the car while she scored. She’d leave desperate and angry, only to return neglectful and dazed. Abandoning us at that fire station, for as awful as it sounds, was probably the best thing she ever did for us.”

Polly’s countenance fell from the jovial expression she had carried each time they saw her to one of sadness. “I cannot change the things you think you know, nor can I change the feelings you carry, but I can say that no one is perfect, and some things cannot be seen with certain eyes.”

“Thank you,” Lily said, though she wasn’t one-hundred percent sure that meant Polly understood their stance on the matter.

“So it is time we changed your vision.” Polly lifted a finger and looked around the dining room. Seeing the gnome statue, she sighed. “Lugwick, what are you doing in here? I thought I left you in the garden. Herman cannot play with you. Last time, you kept him out all night.”

“Polly, you do know they’re not real, right?” Lily asked, concerned.

Polly leaned over and picked up the statue. She handed it over to Lily. “Feels real to me.”

Lily cradled the gnome in her arms.

“Uh, you might not want to put Lugwick’s face there.” Polly motioned to where the gnomes head pressed against her chest. “He develops crushes easily.”

Lily turned him around to face Polly. “You never said who cleaned up the house. Did you hire a crew to come in?”

“Just me and the gnomes. Well, and the ghosts, though I think we can all agree they haven’t been lending a hand around here.” Polly chuckled.

“You cleaned all of this by yourself?” Dante asked in surprise.

“It wasn’t hard. I just waved my magic finger, pointed and bapped, wiggled and—”

Polly’s words were cut off as a spark of pink erupted from the tip of her finger and shot across the room. It wrapped around the broken chair and the wood grew a new leg to replace the damaged one.

The woman gasped and then giggled. “Misfire. Sorry. I guess it wasn’t done. See what I mean? So much energy in these walls. I bet you couldn’t do that in Washington. I know I couldn’t in Maine. Not as powerful as that.”

“How…?” Dante whispered in shock.

“What just happened?” Lily held the gnome closer and stepped away from the woman. The sound of footsteps echoed above them, but she ignored it. “How did you do that?”

“Haven’t you been paying attention, sugar bee? I told you. This place is magic. You act as if you’ve never seen a spell before.” Polly took the repaired chair and placed it by the table before pointing at the broken leg on the floor. “You can go now.”

The leg disappeared.

“How…?” Dante repeated a second time.

“Shut your mouth, Florus, or the ghosts will get in,” Polly warned. “The disembodied are always looking to hitch a ride in the right vessel.”

Dante snapped his mouth shut.

Lily’s heart beat a little too quickly. She stared at Polly’s hand. “I don’t understand.”

“Darlings, the Crawfords and Goodes come from a long line of witches. Surely you saw your mother casting a few spells? And you can’t tell me you’ve never shown signs of your true natures?” Polly went toward Lily and took the gnome from her. “I suspect it will erupt much stronger in you, now that you’re back where you belong.”

Before Lily could respond, Polly walked out of the dining room.

“Tell me I’m dreaming,” Dante said, “or did the mentally unstable hippie just tell us we’re witches?”

“Oh, delicious, someone brought Stammerin’ Eddie’s. Best coffee in town,” Polly said.

“I think that answers your question as to her sanity.” Lily glanced out the doorway to where Polly placed the gnome on the chest by the coffee cup. She backed away. “If she thinks that’s good coffee, she’s definitely not to be trusted.”

Lily started to motion toward the back door through the kitchen. If they ran, they could most likely make it to the car. Was that overreacting? It felt like maybe she was overreacting. Polly hadn’t threatened them.

“The gnomes will take care of the weeds and trimmings,” Polly called. “They’re called garden gnomes for a reason.”

“Is she rifling through the stack of citations?”

Dante stared at the repaired chair, slowing reaching to touch it.

“Go get those citations from her, so they aren’t lost.” Lily pulled out a chair at the dining table, away from the magically fixed one. “We should sit down and go through them to make a plan.”

“I’m not going near scary-finger lady,” Dante denied. He made no move to leave. “She has to be crazy, right? I mean, witches?”

“I know it’s—whatever—but you saw what happened.”

“Shared hallucination caused by a rare mold growing in the walls?”

Lily took a deep breath. “You have to admit it makes sense.” Instead of taking a seat, she went back to the doorway to keep an eye on Polly who was still rifling through the papers. “Do you remember when we were little, before mom went off the deep end? The games we used to play? Our dolls walked on their own.”

“We were imaginative,” Dante said.

“They flew,” Lily countered.

“We pretended they flew. Jesse threw them.”

“Suellen Grace?”

“Imaginary friend.”

“Or ghost. We know what we saw. We all said we saw the same thing.”

“The memories of children are not reliable. You remember what that counselor said to Ila when she took us in? We made things up as a way of coping with an unstable home environment. We were isolated. Our mother was mentally unstable.” Dante’s voice rose in irritation. “We’d been living in a car.”

“And the sparkles shooting out of Polly’s finger?” Lily kept her voice low, not wanting to be overheard. What she was saying felt ridiculous. “What if we weren’t just imagining? What if the things we saw were real?”

“What if they were?” Dante countered. “All it means is our family is more screwed up than we thought.”

Lily studied the tip of her finger. Pointing it at the far wall, she said, “Bippity-ah-pappy-dappy-doodly-doo?”

Nothing happened.

“Oh dear, you’re not making any sense, sugar bee.” Polly appeared in the doorway. She placed the stack of papers on the table. “You didn’t drink any leftover potions out of my purse, did you? They have side effects. You really shouldn’t drink things if you don’t know what they do.”

“No, you said we were witches, so I was,” Lily pointed her finger, flicking her hand when nothing happened, “witching.”

“By speaking gibberish?” Polly laughed. “Magic doesn’t work like that. You have to have intent and focus, but not think about it.”

“But you…” Lily frowned.

“You can’t just bippity-bap with your dipple-stack.” Polly shook her head as if that was the most logical statement on Earth.

“I don’t think those are real words,” Dante said. He sat on the chair Lily had pulled out and slid the stack before him.

“They’re real sounds coming out of my real mouth.” Polly reached to slide the stack away from him. “These can wait. I think it’s time you learned what you can really do.”