“Sounds good to me,” Asa said. “But how do we do that?”
“I don’t know,” said Sal. “But we’ve got to figure something out. Soon.”
They sat there at the table for a few tense, awkward moments. Then Sal got an odd look in her eyes and said, “You don’t have any books here, do you?”
“I sure do!” he said. He bent and picked up his corner of the kitchen table and pulled out the worn, bent paperback book he’d been using to level it. “I took this out to try and read it the other day, but…” He shrugged. “I’m more of an F. Scott Fitzgerald type, I think.”
Sal held the filthy book by its corner, looking at its cover. “Brothers of the Western Sage,” she read, raising a skeptical eyebrow. She shrugged. “Well, it’s better than nothing, I guess.”
She put the book down on the table, then spilled some salt from the saltshaker into her hand. A feeling of electricity began to surge around her. Magic, Asa knew. He leaned forward to get a better look.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Rhapsodomancy,” she said. “Mother Morevna told me about it once. It’s a kind of divination where you ask a question, then open a book, and whatever line you put your finger to answers your question. Or it’s supposed to. I’ve never tried it before.”
She looked down at the book. “Here goes nothing,” she said. She closed her eyes and dropped a pinch of salt over the book. Asa felt a strong surge of magic, heard her whisper something under her breath. Then the book’s pages began to turn, flipping faster and faster, until the book suddenly stopped its page riffling and fell open. The magic ceased its surging, and Sal opened her eyes. Then they looked down at the open book together. There on the page was a black-and-white illustration of two cowboys in the street, hands hovering over their gun belts, with a quote beneath it.
“‘… and the two of them took to the dusty streets to settle things the cowboy way,’” Asa read.
He paused, feeling a little sorry for Sal. “Well… I thank you for trying, I suppose, but the two of us are anything but cowboys. Maybe Frankenstein next time? Or Moby Dick?”
But Sal’s eyes were alight with an inner flame that was a little intimidating.
“The cowboy way…” she said softly. “Of course.” Suddenly, she pulled another, tiny book from her pocket and opened it, riffling through its pages. “Aha!” she said. “I thought I’d seen that somewhere! It’s perfect!”
“A duel,” Sal said, her eyes glowing. “We can have a duel!”
Asa’s mind was suddenly filled with images of cowboys facing each other in dusty streets, crying “Draw!” and shooting, falling to the ground to lie twitching as their blood sank into the dust.
Asa gulped. “Well, you see, I’m kind of a… er… conscientious objector when it comes to guns.…”
“No, I mean a Witches’ Duel,” she said. “‘A Witches’ Duel is a time-honored way of settling disputes between witches when there does not seem to be another alternative.’” She read on a little ways, then said, “‘Despite its name, a Witches’ Duel, is not necessarily deadly and is over when one witch has displayed her dominance over another.…’ You see? It’s perfect.”
“So you just want to… to duel out in the street?” Asa said.
“No,” Sal said. “I want to fake a duel. I want to rig the duel so I win. Then the people will see that I’m the stronger witch and maybe they’ll leave you alone.”
Asa considered this. A duel was one thing, but a fake duel was another. A fake duel was a performance, just like his magic shows. Harmless. Entertaining. He nodded.
“I’ll do it,” he said. Then he had a sudden, sobering thought. “Won’t Mother Morevna object to something like that?”
Sal furrowed her brows and went quiet. Mother Morevna. She gave the impression of a woman who liked to be in control. And she certainly wouldn’t allow something like a duel to happen on her watch.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Sal said finally. But the fire in her eyes hadn’t gone out. “You just wait for word from me, all right?” she said. “And thank you.”
And with that, Sal rose from the table and headed back outside, leaving Asa in his kitchen, holding his cowboy book, wondering what on earth he’d just gotten himself into.