Bewitched || P. Jackson

𝔸ll that glitters is gold

Nicki would've died five times on the way to the front door if not for Leo.

First it was the motion-activated trapdoor on the sidewalk, then the lasers on the steps, then the nerve gas dispenser on the porch railing, the pressure-sensitive poison spikes in the welcome mat, and of course the exploding doorbell.

Leo deactivated all of them. It was like he could smell the traps, and he picked just the right tool out of his belt to disable them.

"You're amazing, man," Jason said.

Leo scowled as he examined the front door lock. "Yeah, amazing," he said. "Can't fix a dragon right, but I'm amazing."

"Hey, that wasn't your—"

Ethan rested a hand on Jason's shoulder, shaking his head softly.

"Front door's already unlocked," Leo announced.
Piper stared at the door in disbelief. "It is? All those traps, and the door's unlocked?"

Leo turned the knob. The door swung open easily. He stepped inside without hesitation. Ethan scurried in behind Leo, leaving Nicki to awkwardly side step Jason and Piper to follow them.

Nicki's first impression of the house: Dark.

From the echo of her footsteps she could tell the entry hall was enormous, even bigger than Boreas's penthouse; but the only illumination came from the yard lights outside. A faint glow peeked through the breaks in the thick velvet curtains. The windows rose about ten feet tall. Spaced between them along the walls were life-size metal statues. As Nicki's eyes adjusted, she saw sofas arranged in a U in the middle of the room, with a central coffee table and one large chair at the far end. A massive chandelier glinted overhead. Along the back wall stood a row of closed doors.

"Where's the light switch?" Jason's voice echoed alarmingly through the room.

"Don't see one," Leo said.

"Fire?" Piper suggested.

Leo held out his hand, but nothing happened. "It's not working."

"Your fire is out? Why?" Piper asked.

"Well, if I knew that—"

"It's cool, guys," Nicki spoke quickly to defuse the situation. "I can just..." The black-haired girl trailer off as her hand stayed magic-free. "That's not good."

"Okay, okay," Piper said. "What do we do—explore?"

Leo shook his head. "After all those traps outside? Bad idea."

Nicki's skin tingled. Looking around, she didn't see a comfortable room to hang out in. She imagined vicious storm spirits lurking in the curtains, dragons under the carpet, a chandelier made of lethal ice shards, ready to impale them. She didn't trust anything anymore.

"Leo's right," he said. "We're not separating again—not like in Detroit."

"Oh, thank you for reminding me of the Cyclopes." Piper's voice quavered. "I needed that."

"It's a few hours until dawn," Jason guessed. "Too cold to wait outside. Let's bring the cages in and make camp in this room. Wait for daylight; then we can decide what to do."

Nobody offered a better idea, so they rolled in the cages with Coach Hedge and the storm spirits, then settled in. Thankfully, Leo didn't find any poison throw pillows or electric whoopee cushions on the sofas.

Leo didn't seem in the mood to make more tacos. Besides, they had no fire, so they settled for cold rations.

As Nicki ate, she studied the metal statues along the walls. They looked like Greek gods or heroes. Maybe that was a good sign. Or maybe they were used for target practice. On the coffee table sat a tea service and a stack of glossy brochures, but Nicki couldn't make out the words. The big chair at the other end of the table looked like a throne. None of them tried to sit in it.