Robbie slowed as we entered the kitchen, silent as he took in the changes. Gone was the cabinet with its hanging herbs, the rack of dog-eared spell books, the ceramic spoons, and copper spell pots. It looked like a normal kitchen, which was abnormal for Mom.

"When did this happen?" he asked, rocking into motion and heading for the coffeemaker. It looked like a shrine with its creamer, sugar, special spoons, and three varieties of grounds in special little boxes.

I sat at the table and scuffed my feet. Since Dad died, I thought, but didn't say it. I didn't need to.

The silence stretched uncomfortably. I'd like to say Robbie looked like my dad, but apart from his height and his spare frame, there wasn't much of Dad about him. The red hair and green eyes we shared came from Mom. The earth magic skill I dabbled in came from Mom, too. Robbie was better at ley line magic. Dad had been topnotch at that, having worked in the Arcane Division of the Inderland Security, the I.S. for short.

Guilt hit me, and I glanced at the application peeking out from under the napkins.

"So," Robbie drawled as he threw out the old grounds and rinsed the carafe. "You want to go to Fountain Square for the solstice? I haven't seen the circle close in years."

I fought to keep the disappointment from my face—he had been trying to get tickets to the Takata concert. Crap. "Sure," I said, smiling. "We'll have to dig up a coat for you, though."

"Maybe you're right," he said as he scooped out four tablespoons, glanced at me and then dumped the last one back in the bag. "You want to go to the concert instead?"

I jerked straight in the chair. "You got them!" I squealed, and he grinned.

"Yup," he said, tapping his chest and reaching into a pocket. But then his long face went worried. I held my breath until he pulled a set of tickets from a back pocket, teasing me.