Eight candles twinkled on Pamela's strawberry cream birthday cake. Everyone had to treat her like a princess today. She'd always wanted to be a princess. Well, either a princess or a mermaid. She couldn't decide. Maybe a mermaid princess. She wore a sparkly tiara and her favorite purple taffeta dress with silver stars and moons embroidered on it. Her black-and-white striped stockings and patent Mary Janes matched perfectly, and she hoped everyone envied them.

"Birthdays are special," Mama said, angling her smartphone camera. "Any wish you make today will come true."

Pamela crossed her fingers and closed her eyes. I really wish Auntie was still alive, but not even birthday magick works that way. That's stupid. I'll just wish I was a mermaid princess. Even though she felt empty inside, she blew the candles out.

She missed Auntie Desdemone so much. Three months ago, Auntie had fallen down a big staircase in her house and died. Pamela had cried for a long time afterward. Auntie had been a professor of something called metaphysics and occult lore, and she used to teach Pamela about real magick.

More than anything, Pamela wanted to study real magick, and now there was no one to learn from. She'd have to find it for herself somehow...someday.

Cake and ice cream made Pamela stop thinking about Auntie for a while. So did the games on the lawn and a ride on the fat gray pony Mama had rented for the afternoon.

Later, all the other girls laughed at the silly puppet show. Little people with clay heads mounted on sticks chased each other around a cardboard backdrop. When the witch puppet turned the bad king puppet into a frog, even Pamela cracked a smile.

Mama called Pamela and the other girls inside after the puppet show. "It's time for presents."

Everyone rushed into the house with streamers, balloons, and ribboned fairy wings fluttering behind them. They gathered in the living room around the overstuffed leather armchair, where Pamela sat as if on a gilded throne. One by one, pink and purple bags and tinsel-wrapped boxes found their way into Pamela's hands. She ripped through the tissue paper and tossed it into a colorful pile.

Each time a gift was opened, she pretended to be happy. So many skinny fashion dolls, play make-up and gems, clothes in fancy colors she hated, and stuffed animals with hollow plastic eyes. Plastic--all fake stuff. Pamela was tired of it. Why couldn't anyone give her something worthwhile? Something like books about real magick, with sigils and arcane names and spells to study. Or maybe a train ticket to go see faraway lands.

When the last gift was opened, the other girls fawned over the huge collection of toys--the mountain of things Pamela didn't want. She thought about giving it all back to them, but that would be rude. Instead, she gazed out the window. That pony's still out there. I could climb on and ride away. Maybe I could go to the places Auntie visited. Maybe then I'd find real magick.

Mama came into the living room with a big wooden box. She set it onto the floor, stumbling a bit. The box was made of old gray wood, held together with rusty bolts and hinges. A thick metal padlock and chains clanked around it.

"I've been saving this as a surprise," Mama said. She pulled a shiny brass key out of her pocket and pushed it into the padlock. The lock sprang open, and the chains fell off with a loud clatter. "This used to belong to your Auntie Desdemone. Go on, open it."

The other girls crowded near.

Pamela held her breath. A present from Auntie's messy, interesting, dusty old house--she hadn't expected this surprise. Her heart thumped as she knelt before the box. She placed her fingers around the weathered edges. This was no ordinary hope chest or treasure curio. A mysterious design decorated the lid, pictures of weird animals and skulls swirling around a single eye in the middle, all painted in glistening silver. Pamela recognized some of the tiny symbols engraved along the borders. Auntie had taught her about them once--sigils, markings charged with real magick.

Pamela's hands trembled a little when she opened the lid. The inside of the box was as rough as the outside. Wadded yellow newspapers and a musty smell spilled out. She dug through the packaging and soon discovered an old-fashioned porcelain doll.

Pamela lifted the doll from its case. It was tall enough to reach her waist, if it was standing. A tattered white muslin dress covered its jointed body. Shreds of blond curls still clung to the otherwise bald head, and a long crack sliced across one cheek like a scar. In the middle of its forehead was another sigil, painted in the same silver as the ones on the lid. The doll's eyes stayed closed, even when Pamela held it upright. Maybe it was broken.

It didn't matter. This doll had once been Auntie's. Pamela hugged it and forgot all about the silly girls around her, about Auntie being dead, and about the sadness she'd felt ever since.

Mama smiled. "What will you name her?"

Pamela thought really hard. Sometimes she'd just know things, a feeling deep inside she couldn't explain. Auntie had once told her it was a special talent called 'foresight'. The doll's name echoed through Pamela's mind in a strange, single word. She spoke it aloud. "Her name's Lamishu."

The other girls laughed and said it was a dumb name, but Mama gave a slow smile.

"Yes, that is her name." Mama winked. "We'll talk about this later."

Pamela didn't care about the other girls and their teasing. She was glad when the party was over. Once everyone was gone, she threw the useless presents into her toy box, but she put Lamishu onto a shelf with her favorite keepsakes.

After dinner and a hot bath, Mama tucked Pamela into bed. "Do you really like the doll? I know she's ugly, but you and Auntie Desdemone were so close. I thought it might be a nice way for you to remember her."

Pamela nodded. "I love Lamishu. She's my newest and truest friend. Me and Auntie were best friends, too, until..."

Mama lowered her eyes. "I know you were. You shared a lot of secrets together."

"How do you know about our secrets?" Pamela asked, tilting her head. "We never told anybody about...the weird things we could do."

Mama tucked a lock of shiny black hair behind one ear and looked back at Pamela. She spoke, but her lips never moved. "I imagine it was weird things like this. Can you hear me talking in your mind right now?"

Pamela gasped. "You can do it, too?"

"Oh, yes." Mama laughed and tapped a wine-painted fingernail against Pamela's nose. She spoke again in thought. "Our family is different. We have to hide who we are, because others don't understand. They used to burn people like us in the old days."

Pamela sat upright and answered silently. "Why didn't you tell me before, Mama? All this time, I thought just me and Auntie could talk this way."

"Our tradition usually waits until a child is thirteen," Mama said aloud, "but I hadn't realized how much Auntie Desdemone taught you. Watching you grow, wanting to tell you more, having to be silent through the divorce from your father...I was afraid he'd find out you share my 'family's curse', as he so spitefully put it. Well, you're ready to learn, and I'll teach you as my sister once did."

Pamela bounced with excitement. "I want to learn all about real magick. Daddy never understood. I thought you didn't, either, but this is the best birthday ever. My wish...it's mostly come true."

Mama lifted a thin, dark eyebrow. "Mostly?"

"My real wish could never come true. It's about Auntie, and, well..."

"I miss her too," Mama said. She pulled her black satin nightgown around her shoulders and sighed. "I don't have proof, but I believe your aunt died to protect Lamishu's secret."

Pamela grabbed Mama's hand. "What kind of secret?"

"We'll find the answers together. But for now, let's get some sleep. We can talk more in the morning."

Mama kissed Pamela good night, then she turned off the lamp and went to bed.

The doll's face was an ivory mask in the shadows. A moonbeam poured through the open window, and a light breeze rustled the gauzy chiffon curtains. The sigil on Lamishu's forehead gleamed through the shadows. What kind of mystery did the doll hide? A secret important enough to die for--and what had made Auntie fall down those stairs, anyway?

Pamela shivered. After she'd tossed and turned about a hundred million times, she finally fell asleep.

***

The next day was Saturday, no school. Brimming with excitement, Pamela burst into the living room with the doll in her arms.

"Mama, let's find out more about Lamishu. I can't wait--" When Pamela entered the room, she froze.

Mama sat on the couch in a long black velvet dress. Her bobbed hair angled sharp around her cheekbones. She was always pale, but this time she was extra pale.

On the big sofa across from Mama, Daddy sat with a strange woman. He wore a green polo shirt with the collar unbuttoned. A golden cross pendant glimmered against his tanned chest. His light brown pants were pressed crisp, and his white deck shoes were spotless. He lounged with one leg propped over the other, holding hands with the woman beside him.

The strange lady's auburn hair was piled in a high, bushy knot, and she wore an ugly floral print skirt with spiked high heels. She leaned against Daddy and fiddled with a big diamond ring on her finger.

"There you are, angel." Daddy dropped to one knee, his arms outstretched. "Come give me a hug."

Pamela frowned, shifting from foot to foot. She spoke to Mama in her mind. "Why is he here? And who's that with him?"

Mama's blue eyes flicked once toward Pamela, and she answered in thought. "That's his new wife. They want to take you away from me."

Pamela ran to the couch and snuggled against Mama, not Daddy.

Daddy lowered his head. "It's been almost three months. I thought you'd be happy to see me."

"You never give me hugs, not since I was really little." Pamela frowned. "Trying it now is weird."

A thin line creased Daddy's brow, and he returned to his seat.

The woman beside him smiled and extended a hand to Pamela. "It's nice to meet you, sweetie. My name's Chandra. I'm your new step-mom."

"I know already," Pamela snapped, "and don't call me sweetie."

Chandra blinked and pursed her bright red lips.

"How did you know we were married?" Daddy asked. "I haven't told you yet."

Mama gripped Pamela's arm and warned her in thought. "Be careful. He mustn't know you have these gifts."

Pamela gulped. "Well, you're holding hands, and she's got that big ring out like she wants everyone to be jealous of it, so I kinda guessed."

Chandra tried another smile. "That's an interesting dolly you have there, Pamela. May I see her?"

"No," Pamela said.

Chandra's laughter was nervous. She twined her hands around Daddy's arm. "Nice little girls always share. I guess your mother didn't teach you that."

Mama waved toward the door. "That's it. You've had your visit, now get out."

Daddy and Chandra stood with faces like stone.

"It's time Pamela had a proper upbringing, Eva," Daddy said. "You dress her like she's a Wednesday Addams reject, never take her to church, and give her horrible toys like that broken doll. This isn't a quality life for my daughter."

"I don't wanna go to church," Pamela cried. "I told you before. I don't like it, and I don't believe it."

"And that's the problem." Daddy raised a finger in Pamela's face. "You have no discipline. Your mother spoils you. And worse, she's corrupted you with witchcraft."

Mama's voice grew shrill as she yanked the door open. "Enough! Get the hell out."

Daddy grinned. "Getting the Hell out of Pamela is exactly what I'll do. We'll be in touch."

Chandra pulled at Daddy's arm. "Let's go, Michael. We'll meet with the lawyer tomorrow." She glanced over her shoulder with a smirk.

Once they were gone, Mama sank to the floor, face buried in her hands.

"They won't take me away, Mama," Pamela said. "Nobody can make me."

Tears washed Mama's black eyeliner into spidery trails. "I hope so."

Pamela handed the doll to Mama. "Don't worry, we have Lamishu to guard us."

"Thank the Goddess, we do." Mama's smiled and grabbed Pamela's hand. "Come with me. I need to show you something."

They went through the kitchen and the pantry, then down the creaky stairs to the cellar. Rows of canned goods, jars of herbs, stringers of homemade dip candles, quartz crystals, various items of jewelry, and old clothes were crowded together on every shelf and surface. Though it was dark and a little scary down here, Pamela had always loved it. It was like a cave scented with musky incense and oils.

The cellar stored all of Mama's 'gothic new-age stuff'. Well, that's what Daddy called it. Daddy hadn't always been so mean. Mama once said Daddy used to be a 'goth' when he was young, but he changed later. The divorce happened soon after.

Mama fetched a box of wooden matches. She lit the antique brass lantern, which hung overhead on a bent nail, and amber light soon flickered around the cellar. After a few minutes of browsing through old books and papers, Mama pulled out a thick tome bound in blood-red leather.

"Here it is." She set the book on the counter and opened it. The pages were creased and worn, with peculiar sketches and lines of cursive handwritten in faded ink. Mama sat on a stool and pulled Pamela into her lap. "This is our family's Book of Shadows. Our ancestor, Grandma Hepsibah Tuttle, began writing it during the Burning Times, over four hundred years ago. It's passed from mother to daughter ever since."

Pamela traced a finger over the pages, and goosebumps tickled her skin. "I can feel lots of magick in it."

"This book is full of what you call 'real magick'." Mama smiled. "This is where Aunt Desdemone wrote about Lamishu."

"I can tell Lamishu has magick, too," Pamela said. "What can she do?"

Mama turned the page. "I'm not sure, but since Auntie spent years studying this doll, it must be important. Let's see. Here's a part called 'The Story Of Lamishu'. Seems a good place to start, right?"

"Yeah." Pamela cuddled deeper into Mama's lap.

Mama kissed Pamela and read aloud. "Lamishu was the name of a snake goddess from an ancient land, where a princess was kept prisoner in her castle by an invading army. The court sorcerers called for protection, and the goddess Lamishu appeared to help them. The goddess gave the princess a wonderful gift--a guardian idol that could both defend and heal. The idol was made of shining metal and many small wheels and devices. It functioned as a mighty weapon, or a savior of the wounded, but only those who knew the secret words could awaken its power."

"Lamishu's a present from a goddess?" Pamela stared at the doll. "She sure doesn't look like one. Do you think it's true?"

"Aunt Desdemone wouldn't have taken it so seriously otherwise." Mama unbuttoned the doll's dress and looked closer at the back of Lamishu's porcelain body. "Hey, there's a switch here. I've never noticed it before."

Mama set Lamishu onto the desk and pushed the small button. A panel on the doll's back snapped open and exposed a jumble of gear wheels and wires. Rods of copper and bronze pulsed glinted among electrical cords. Along the sides, metal plates bore strange inscriptions in patterns of broken lines and dots.

"Wow!" Pamela fidgeted in excitement. "She's a robot on the inside."

Mama's voice was like a whisper. "These symbols match the invocation Auntie recorded in our Book of Shadows. I see now what Auntie was doing--translating codes. These must be a program, like the codes I work with at the analytics lab. I get it, now. Lamishu must be an automaton. Holy cow, this is incredible."

"What's a au-to-ma-ton?" Pamela asked.

"It's a very old kind of robot. Where Lamishu really came from, or how she was built, we may never know. But that's not what's important. Someone hid the idol inside this porcelain doll, likely to keep it safe." Mama got a crazed look in her eyes, staring into space. "We must protect Lamishu from our the Archons. Desdemone probably got in their way when they came looking for that idol they want so much. Curse me for not realizing it sooner. I'll make them pay."

Pamela tapped Mama's shoulder. "Who are the Archons? I wanna know."

"A coven of rogue witches who mix the magick of the Old Ways with modern cybernetic technology. They control people and make bad things happen. If the Archons are searching for Lamishu, we may be in danger."

"Oh..." Pamela wrapped her arms around the doll. "How do those words make Lamishu work?"

Mama squinted as she read further in the book. "It says to place your hands on Lamishu's heart and recite the sacred chant. This sigil on her chest must mark the spot."

Mama was about to try it, but her phone rang in the kitchen. She helped Pamela slide off the stool, then ran upstairs to answer the call.

Pamela closed Lamishu's back panel and followed Mama.

Mama paced with the phone against her ear. "Yes, Mr. Langford. My ex stopped by just now and served the orders. No, I haven't signed anything. I wouldn't dare until we can meet. Are you free today? Good. See you soon." She hung up and looked at Pamela. "Get dressed, honey. We're going to talk with the lawyer."

"About Daddy?"

Mama nodded. "Yep. If he wants a fight, we'll give him one."

Mama helped Pamela put a coat on, then grabbed her purse and keys. "Bring Lamishu with us. Whatever you do, never let that doll out of your sight. Even the Archons wouldn't harm a child. The Sacred Law will punish them beyond the grave if they try. Lamishu has no better guardian than you."

Holding hands, they walked to the car. Pamela strapped Lamishu into a seatbelt and patted the doll's shabby head.

"Be good, Lamishu. I bet you can kick the Archon's butts."

Mama started the engine. "Let's hope we never meet them," she muttered, and she drove faster down the road.

***

Mr. Langford's office was so boring. Pamela held Lamishu in her lap while Mama and the lawyer talked. Hours and hours and hours. Ugh, why didn't Mr. Langford have better magazines to read? She sat in the big swivel office chair and played with Lamishu to pass the time.

When the meeting was over, Mama and Pamela got in their SUV and went to a restaurant for dinner. They sat Lamishu between them. When the waitress came, Pamela ordered a chocolate milkshake.

"I'll have one too," Mama said.

Pamela liked spending time with Mama. They talked in their heads, like she used to do with Auntie.

"Mama, why doesn't everybody know about magick? It's real, but people like Daddy say it's not. How come?"

"Witches are born to gifted families. But even though magick is in everything, the very energy of life and thought, not all witches sense it or use it. More than anything, what makes magick real is that you believe in it."

Pamela fidgeted in her seat. "I've always believed in it. Does that make me a real witch, like you and Auntie?"

Mama smiled. "Yes, it does. Oh, look, here's our shakes!"

After yummy burgers and french fries and plenty of laughs, they headed home. Pamela yawned and stretched in her car seat, sleepy after a long day. Lamishu sat beside her, buckled in as if she was alive.

Mama tapped her fingers against the steering wheel and sang to her favorite playlist. A song by The Frozen Autumn came on, and Pamela sang along, too.

Mama grinned. "I love you, honey."

"I love you too, Mama."

A strange whisper crept out of silence and slurred through Pamela's mind. "Beware."

Mama whipped her head around. "What did you just say, Pamela?"

"I didn't say that. I thought you did."

"No." Mama stopped the car at the side of the road. "Something's not right."

Pamela's stomach felt numb, and she was suddenly cold. "Hey, look at Lamishu."

The doll's eyelids moved, opening slowly, and its hands twitched. Again, the whisper echoed in thought, a female voice murmuring. One word rose from the hissing swirl. "Danger."

Mama gasped and looked around, fear stealing over her face. They were parked on a lonely country road, miles from home. Outside the car, everything was black.

Mama reached around the driver's seat and unbuckled Pamela. "Quick, put your hands on Lamishu's heart. Are you ready?"

Pamela nodded and obeyed. The doll's body was hotter than she remembered, and something pulsed and ticked inside of it.

"Enkar, Arva, Donshei, Unbra, Vitalis, Tenebris, Shaktah..." Mama's chant sliced through the gloom.

"What are those words?" Pamela asked, a chill racing down her back.

"The invocation your Auntie translated to awaken Lamishu."

Pamela shivered. "Nothing's happening."

"We have to try. Repeat after me."

Heart pounding, Pamela recited the chant with Mama.

Out of nowhere, a gaunt shadow appeared at the driver's window of the SUV. Long arms clad in a flowing black robe shot up and pushed.

The car flipped on its side. Glass crunched and scattered around them. Pamela, Mama, and Lamishu tumbled together in a heap.

A high-pitched shriek pierced the air.

"Pamela!" Mama reached through the dark, grasping desperately at Pamela's legs and arms.

"M-Mama..." Pamela's voice came as a hoarse moan through her throat. Something warm and sticky dripped into her eyes, and she could barely see. She lifted her head. Cold air blew through the shattered window above her.

The shadowy figure loomed there. Crunch. A sound like metal grating against metal shook the car, and the door flew off.

Mama and Pamela both screamed.

Barbed metallic hands clutched the door frame, the fingers layered with countless small gears and cogs. A long, freakish head poked through the open side--two hollow eye sockets, a bone-white nose thin and drawn like a dead horse. A black hood shaded its features, breath wheezing from its tiny hole of a mouth. It dragged Pamela out by the shoulders. She yelled and kicked, but the creature's grip pinched harder.

Was it a person, a machine, or a monster? Pamela couldn't escape it. Only in her scariest nightmares could she imagine such a freak. She dangled above the ground, her legs kicking in empty air.

A ragged laugh came from its throat. It studied her for a few seconds, then dropped her to the ground.

"What are you?" she shouted. "Leave us alone!" She pummeled the creature's misshapen body, and her fists struck cold metal beneath the black robe.

A sigil glowed sickly red on the creature's forehead, gashed markings inside of a crescent with a skull leering over it.

Mama climbed out through the broken window. Blood matted her short hair. Her eyes blazed, and Pamela sensed a wave of magick rising around them.

"Get away from my daughter, Archon." Mama lifted her open palms toward the dark sky. "If it's Lamishu you want, just try and take her."

An Archon...Pamela pressed against the overturned SUV, her eyes widening. Where was Lamishu?

The Archon whirled, it's robe unfurling as it swung a steeled fist at Mama.

Mama leaped aside with supernatural grace and dodged the strike. She stood between the Archon and Pamela. Again, magick intensified, thrumming into an unseen shield. Mama raised two fingers in the sign of the Horned Father, then swept her arm down.

"Banish!" The spell echoed through Mama's mind and voice.

The Archon flew backward before the surge of Mama's power. It rolled across the road, metal claws scraping to regain balance. The hooded robe tore aside, and the Archon's hideous form was revealed. It was a woman--at least, what must have once been a woman. The Archon scrambled to her feet and wailed. Her nude torso flexed ghastly pale among tangled wires and circuitry, mechanical devices protruding from the scarred flesh. Tattoos of sigils and electric cables wound around her misshapen body. She laughed. "Pathetic. Give us the doll, and you may live to see the dawn."

The Archon waved a hand. Out of the dark trees, two more hooded figures swooped to the ground and landed beside her. There were three Archons, now.

Pamela projected a plea in thought. "Lamishu...help us."

The Archons strode toward them.

The tallest Archon growled a warning. "This is your last chance to surrender. Give us the idol, or we'll punish you as we did your sister."

Pamela gripped Mama's arm. "You killed Auntie?" Her small body tensed. No longer afraid, she charged at the Archons. "Murderers!"

Mama lunged to stop Pamela, but she was no match for their three opponents.

The Archons moved as if they flew. One of them seized Mama by the throat, then it threw her--far, hard--to the other side of the road.

Mama crashed against a tree trunk. Her scream cut short to silence.

"Mama!" Pamela yelled and cried, trying to run to where Mama lay in a twisted heap.

The female Archon grabbed Pamela by the collar and pulled her back. "Little witch-brat. Hand over the idol, now."

Pamela thrashed and scratched at her captor's harsh metal grasp. Tears misted her vision. "No! Mama..."

A deep, low hum rumbled through the air and the ground, right into Pamela's bones. She covered her ears against the noise.

The Archons turned toward the SUV, expressions hidden beneath their long bone masks, but their stilted breath hinted at surprise.

A small figure crawled out of the broken window and stood on the car. The sigil on its fractured porcelain forehead shone in the dark, glass eyes open and lit with bright red slits for pupils. The doll's mouth curved into a smile as if it were alive, displaying sharp silver teeth. A black forked tongue darted from the painted lips.

Pamela shouted, "Lamishu!"

"Damn me to the Netherworld." the female Archon said, chortling. "The idol is inside of that old doll. That Desdemone bitch was clever to hide it from us."

All three Archons strode toward Lamishu.

The doll rose several feet into the air, hovering before the enemies. Its arms and legs extended into longer appendages with mechanical snaps, and their porcelain coverings shattered away. The glyphs and wires along its bronze body pulsed with red and purple light.

Pamela took advantage of the Archons' distraction and scampered across the road. Mama lay on her side among the gnarled roots of the tree, her back turned, arms and legs contorted among the torn black fabric of her dress. A sob escaped Pamela, and she knelt by Mama's side. A stream of blood spilled from Mama's head, a dark stain upon the soil. Mama's eyes were half open, her lips parted, but she was still as death. Pamela placed her fingers on Mama's chest, and felt the smallest flutter of a heart beating.

"Mama, hang on. It'll be okay. Lamishu will save us." Pamela's thought only touched the quiet emptiness of Mama's mind. She cried and held Mama's hand against her cheek.

From the short distance, Pamela watched the Archons and Lamishu clash in battle. The Archons moved with enhanced grace. They surrounded Lamishu, each trying to seize the doll.

Razors tipped the doll's fingers and toes and spun like tiny saw blades. Lamishu's head and body curled into a tight, hovering ball. The arms and legs slashed in a blur. Electricity tinged with magick flared white-hot. Rotating at dizzy speed, Lamishu's sharp fingers and toes tore the Archons' robes and skin. Blood splattered through the air and across the road. Thin cords like tentacles split even further from Lamishu and wrapped around the evil witches' mechanical parts.

The Archons were all soon trapped in a web of sparking copper. They flailed and shouted, but there was no fleeing Lamishu's wrath.

Another low noise vibrated the earth and everything around. Lamishu rattled and shook, and all of her blades pierced the Archons. Screams faded amid a huge burst of electric shock and magick. The Archons exploded into tiny bits of gore and smoldering metal scraps.

The thundering noise stopped. Lamishu retracted all of her extensions, and slowly settled to the ground. Her head turned, and the fierce red eyes locked onto Pamela and Mama. Half of the doll's face was broken away, and the idol's true features glimmered through the jagged pieces--a flat, simple face, a wedged nose, the true shape of the eye a large slant beneath its heavy bronze lid. Lamishu walked to Pamela, her small metal feet clinking against the road.

Pamela reached for the doll. "The Book of Shadows said you can heal the wounded. Please, do it."

The doll's head cocked to one side in an almost curious gesture. Lamishu lifted a hand, the razored fingers flecked with blood. Her eyes changed from their furious red glow to a soothing blue.

Headlights rounded the bend and flooded the scene. A big freight truck rolled into view. Brakes screeched, the door opened, and a man in blue jeans and a baseball cap climbed out and sprinted toward Pamela. "Oh my God! Little girl, are you okay?"

Lamishu stopped moving, her inner glow disappeared, and she returned to being a lifeless doll.

"Wait, Lamishu, don't go back to sleep yet." Pamela shook the doll, weeping. "Don't let Mama die."

The trucker gasped when he saw Mama, and he dialed 911 on his phone right away. "There's an accident on Highway 9, 'bout five miles east of Arlington. A woman and a girl hurt bad. Get here fast."

Within minutes, police cars and an ambulance raced in. They tried to revive Mama, but it was no use. While a paramedic tried to console Pamela, the emergency team carefully lifted Mama onto a gurney and loaded her into the ambulance.

Pamela rode in the back as they sped to the hospital. She stared at Mama while the paramedics tended her own scrapes and bruises.

"Don't worry, honey, we'll help your mom pull through this," a lady paramedic said, patting Pamela's arm. "Looks like you've got a friend there. I've never seen a dolly like that. Where did you get her?"

Pamela struggled to answer. She was angry, scared, and sad all at once. "She was...my birthday present."

The paramedic smiled. "How nice. They say birthday wishes always come true, but only if you really believe they can."

"Yeah." Pamela looked at the floor and tried not to cry again. What a stupid wish she'd made, to be a mermaid princess. It was too late to bring Auntie back, but maybe Mama had a chance. She changed her secret wish, and hoped instead for Mama to be okay.

***

Pamela tapped her dinner plate with her fork, her chin resting on one hand. "I'm not hungry. Can I please just go to my room?"

"No," Daddy said, taking another bite of the stewed vegetables. "I know you're still upset about your mother, but you need to eat."

Chandra glared at her. "At least try."

Pamela folded her arms and pouted. "I don't want to."

Daddy and Chandra exchanged a glance, and Daddy shook his head. "Pamela. There's a lot of things in life that we don't want to do, but we still have to do them. Besides, how are you going to see your mother wake up if you starve yourself?"

He was right about that. With a sigh, Pamela stabbed a carrot slice and shoved it into her mouth.

"There, that's better." Chandra reached over the table to pat Pamela's hand, but Pamela leaned away.

"Why can't I have Lamishu and my book back?" Pamela mumbled, keeping her eyes lowered.

Daddy cleared his throat. "When your mother recovers, I'll give them to her. But you must behave like a young lady, now. That...thing you call a doll and that evil book aren't the right influences for you."

Pamela dropped her fork with a clatter and pushed her plate away. "You always tell me what to do, but you never ask me what I want. I hate you both." She sprang to her feet and ran out of the dining room, ignoring their stunned faces and shouts to come back. Fighting tears, she bounded up the stairs and slammed her bedroom door behind her.

Everything was turned upside down, and so, so wrong. She had to stay with Daddy and Chandra till Mama got out of the hospital. They seemed to think it would be forever, that they'd win custody in the courts either way, but Pamela swore she wouldn't let that happen.

How long would it be? She couldn't stand it here, couldn't bear another day in this awful place. She kicked the big, stupid, google-eyed stuffed elephant Chandra had given her and laughed when it smacked against the wall. With a frustrated sigh, she collapsed onto her bed. Ugly pink walls gleamed over the pastel lace coverlets and pillows. The foofy toys and clothes they'd given her made her want to barf. She missed Mama more and more every day, and she missed her own room, her home, her clothes, all the books and things she loved. There was almost no magick in her life, now--except for a few secrets she still kept.

Two weeks had passed since the night Lamishu had destroyed the Archons, and Mama still wasn't better. In fact, when Pamela went to visit a few days ago, Mama looked worse. It was a coma, the doctors said, and several broken bones. Mama was alive, but barely. When she'd wake up, no one knew.

At least the Archons were gone. The accident report only said Pamela and Mama had hit some deer on the road. The police must have had a hard time figuring out why all that blood was there.

A scratch and whine at the door drew her attention. She stood and opened it for Jasper, Daddy's slobbery bassett hound. Jasper was the only good thing about this place. Since Daddy and Chandra took Lamishu and the Book of Shadows from her, she'd had no one to talk to except for the dog.

Jasper padded in, his thick tail wagging. He bowed his head for a hug and licked Pamela's face.

"I'm getting out of here soon, Jasper. And I'm taking Lamishu with me. I don't think I can take you, since you're Daddy's, but you're the best friend I have, now."

The yucky feelings inside melted away as she kissed Jasper's fur. She opened her closet and stepped inside, and the dog followed. Hidden in here, Daddy and Chandra didn't know she kept a secret corner of real magick. She pushed the row of girly clothes aside and admired the sigils of protection and power she'd scrawled on the wall. A hidden prayer to the Great Mother and Horned Father, the only 'gods' she believed in.

Daddy and Chandra tried to take her to church, to make her believe, but Pamela believed only in the Ancient Ones--the Ones who brought the green leaves to life after the winter, who gave life to animals and plants and people, whose love she sensed in the light of the warm sun and the ever-changing moon. Her idea of worship was climbing a tree and listening to the voices in the wind, dancing wild beside a fire in the forest, or talking to the stars on a clear night. Sitting in a building full of people, while statues and paintings of a man nailed to a cross towered over her, made her miss Mama even worse.

She took her favorite set of marking pens and drew another sigil on the wall. This time, she filled it with a different kind of magick. Each stroke of her hand set the power in motion. When she finished, she laughed aloud. One word sealed the sigil's purpose--'escape'.

Her mind made up, and her spell conjured, she cuddled with Jasper on the bed. When Daddy and Chandra came up to scold her, she only nodded and pretended to agree with them. She fell asleep that night with her plans solid. She'd find Lamishu and the book, get to Mama, and get herself out of this mess once and for all.

***

"Hurry, princess, or you'll miss the school bus," Chandra said.

Pamela picked up her backpack and rolled her eyes. Princess...yeah right. She hated when Chandra and Daddy called her that. Well, she actually was kind of like a princess now. A princess trapped in a dungeon or a lost castle, held prisoner by the two meanest dragons in the world.

She gathered her books and headed for the door. "Alright, I'm leaving now. Bye." In truth, she secretly laughed at what she was about to do.

Daddy pinched her cheek as he walked out the door beside her. "Have a good day," he said, his mirrored designer sunglasses reflecting the morning sun. "I'll see you later."

"Bye, Daddy." Pamela grinned and waved, all of it fake. This is going to be the best day ever.

She started on her usual way to the bus stop, singing to herself. As soon as she was around the corner, she ducked behind a thick row of bushes. Out of sight, she watched until Daddy drove away. She stayed there for several more minutes and waited until Chandra emerged from the house. Her step-mom strutted on Barbie doll heels down the driveway. Chandra got into her BMW and left soon after.

Pamela looked around to be sure the coast was clear, then ran back to the house. Forget the bus and school, this was war. She only had a little time before she'd be missed at school and reported as absent. Hopefully, this wouldn't take long.

She slipped through the gate and hurried to the back patio door. Standing on tiptoe, she tapped the house's security code onto the panel keys. It beeped and lit green for quick access. Fifteen minutes before it re-armed--this would have to be the fastest hunt she'd ever done. She fumbled through her pockets for the key, unlocked the door, and rushed inside.

Jasper barked a greeting.

"Hey boy, I'm only here for a moment. Wanna help me find Lamishu?"

Jasper's droopy-eyed stare and lolling tongue seemed to agree, and he followed her.

She dashed upstairs and went into Daddy and Chandra's bedroom. Where could they have hidden Lamishu? She peeked through their closet, all of their clothes hung perfect and pressed, as always. No boxes or anything in here was big enough to hide a goddess's idol or a magick book in. Biting her lip, she went back downstairs and searched through the other rooms--Daddy's study, the game room, every closet she could think of. Nothing. All that was left was the garage. Ugh. There had to be a faster way. She was running out of time.

Hey, wait a minute. Why didn't I think of it before? She closed her eyes and focused her mind, then called out in thought. Lamishu, where are you? Maybe, just maybe...

A soft rush of magick filled her, prickled her skin as if she was charged with electric power. From out of nowhere came a whisper. "Here."

She moved around the house, following the unspoken voice until it got louder. Jasper trotted at her side, his claws ticking across the linoleum. She smiled when Lamishu's cue nearly buzzed in her head. This was like that old game of 'warm, warmer, hot', when she tried to find something hidden. She and Mama liked to play that game.

Above her, from the top cabinet of the computer room, Lamishu called again. "Here."

Her heart nearly skipped a beat. She dragged the nearest chair into position and clambered onto the desk. Inside the cabinet, wrapped in a blanket, she found both Lamishu and the Book of Shadows. She hugged them to her chest and laughed. Nobody could stop her, now. She emptied the school supplies out of her backpack, then stuffed the book and the doll inside. Time to go, fast. She grabbed her purple skateboard out of the hall closet, one of the few cool toys Daddy had let her keep. There was a good ride ahead, and she'd have to be quick.

"Woof." Jasper snuffled and licked her hand as if to congratulate her.

An idea struck. She took Jasper's leash from the entry hook and snapped it to his collar. "Let's go for a walk, boy." With a triumphant grin, she and Jasper sneaked to the back door, locked it, then left through the gate.

Once Jasper started running, he was like a freight train. Pamela hopped onto her skateboard, and the dog took the cue, pulling her along. His long ears flapped as he loped down the street, making her laugh. Only five blocks to the hospital. In about twenty minutes, the school would discover she was playing hooky and call Daddy. She had to make it before that happened.

"Hurry, Jasper! I'll give you extra treats if you go faster."

His pace didn't change much, but Jaster never stopped.

She cheered. Almost there, Lamishu. We'll show them all what real magick is.

***

When they reached the hospital, she tied Jasper's leash to a bike rack. He sprawled at her feet and whined.

"I'm so sorry, but dogs can't come in. I'll be back super fast. I promise." She patted his head, then ran inside.

She headed straight for the elevator, hoping no one would ask what she was doing. A few people glanced at her, but no one got in her way. Three floors up, to the ICU floor, Hall B, Room 11--she had the route memorized well, as she'd begged Daddy to bring her here several times already.

The sterile hospital smell of the room hit her first, the walls white and dull around her. Then she heard the feeble beep of Mama's heart monitor. Her sneakers squeaked as she crossed the polished floor tiles. On the other side of the partition curtain, Mama lay on the bed, quiet and unmoving like a doll herself. Coiled tubes laced up her arm, the IV pouches hung on a rack beside her. Frail, white as the flat pillows she rested against, the dark circles under Mama's eyes weren't from the black liner she always used to wear. No, Mama looked bad today, even worse than last time.

Pamela swallowed the lump in her throat and walked to Mama's bedside. She pulled the bundle out of her backpack and unwrapped Lamishu and the Book of Shadows. Setting both onto the bed, Pamela grasped Mama's hand.

She spoke in thought, wishing that somehow Mama might hear. "We're here, Mama. Lamishu and me. It's time to wake up, now."

Holding her breath, Pamela opened the book. She flipped to the page where Auntie had once translated the words to bring Lamishu to life. Then she placed her hands over the doll's heart.

"Enkar, Arva, Donshei, Unbra, Vitalis, Tenebris, Shaktah." She chanted aloud, and prayed in her mind. Great Mother Goddess...Horned Father God...my truest friend, Lamishu...help my Mama get better.

Minutes passed, and nothing changed. Then, the clicking of mechanisms inside Lamishu began. The doll's body warmed, its half-exposed eye lit blue, and the one still encased in the porcelain disguise flicked open.

Pamela gasped. "You're awake! Please, make Mama better. I know your magick is real. I believe in you."

Lamishu's head swiveled to look at Mama with the grinding of small cogwheels. The doll-idol's bronze arm rose, and her segmented fingers uncurled. Her sharp little fingernails clicked free and waved about on fine threads copper wire. Lamishu settled her blades against Mama's face and chest in a delicate web. Blue light glimmered along the metal strands. A gentle hum filled the room, and magick power swirled around, almost crackling in the air.

Mama's lips trembled. Her neck arched back, and she took a deep breath. The heart monitor beeped faster.

Pamela's tears pattered against the scratchy hospital blanket. "I-it's working!" She squeezed Mama's hand and called again in her thoughts. "Mama, can you hear me?"

A faint voice answered in Pamela's mind. "My baby..."

Footsteps approached. A nurse walked in and peeked around the corner, and her jaw dropped. "What are you doing here? What is that...thing?" She ran to the door and shouted. "Call security, now. Suspicious device, room 11."

Lamishu's body shook, and a bright flash of blue light swelled along the copper wires. Mama's eyelids fluttered, but she didn't wake.

As if her energy was spent, Lamishu again fell limp in Pamela's arms.

"Mama, wake up." Pamela climbed onto the bed and grabbed Mama's shoulders. Sobs choked her. "Please, don't die."

Security officers and nurses stormed into the room. "Get over here, little girl, and hand over that object."

The nurse who'd called them pointed to Lamishu. "It was glowing and humming, and there were wires all over the bed a moment ago."

An officer ripped Lamishu from Pamela's grasp.

Pamela tugged at the officer's arm. "She's just a doll, I promise. I know she's ugly, but...she's my friend. Please, give her back."

Another nurse was more kind, and knelt beside Pamela. "It's okay. What's your name, honey? And what are you doing here and not in school?"

Pamela sniffled and answered. "I'm Pamela Roseberry. And that's my Mama. Her name's Eva. I miss her, and I just wanted to..."

A hoarse voice spoke from the bed. "It's okay, everyone. That's my baby."

Pamela dove for a hug. "Mama!"

Mama was too weak to sit up, but she wrapped her shaky arms around Pamela. They cried on each other's shoulders while everyone in the room stared.

The nice nurse smiled and waved to his companions. "Fetch the doctor, quick. Heck, fetch everyone on the floor. This is a miracle."

Pamela wiped her eyes. "Well, yeah, it is. But I think it's better to call it real magick."

"You're right," Mama said, smiling. She pointed to the officer holding Lamishu. "Please give that doll back to my daughter. It's not a bomb, on my word. It's actually a family heirloom, and her best friend to boot."

The security officer holding Lamishu looked twice at the doll, then slowly handed it to Pamela.

Pamela laid her cheek against Lamishu's bedraggled head and whispered in her mind. "Thank you. You're the bestest friend I ever had, and now we'll always be together. You, and me, and Mama."

***

The nice nurse--who's name Pamela learned was Nick--offered to drive her, Lamishu, and Jasper back to Daddy's house, and then to drop her off at school once Jasper was safely inside.

Nick grinned at Pamela through the rear-view mirror. "You know, what happened today has given me hope. My Dad's fighting cancer, and seeing your mother pull through really boosted me up. It's like an answer to a prayer. Makes the hard times in life easier to face."

Pamela smiled back. "Yeah. No matter what, you have to believe wishes can come true. Mine did today."

She traced the sigil on Lamishu's forehead with a finger and spoke in thought. Wishes do come true. Not always how we want them to. But if you believe hard enough, they always find a way. Right, Lamishu?

It might have been her imagination, but Pamela thought she saw the doll's glass eye open for a second and wink.