The strange thing was... Scrooge wouldn't sense any spirits. The other Spells had always been reassured that the next generation was fine. But why weren't the parent Spells there? Whether to watch over in love or fume in agony, they didn't appear to be there at all. If he tried harder, he might be able to discover why.

The bones of all the other Spells had a wisp of lingering spirituality, but more like leftover crumbs from breakfast. But the boxes underneath Mother and Father were barren of any sense... as if they were completely empty. As if there were no bones within.

Magica clapped her hands, snuffing out the flames. "It was inevitable. If you want to work with us, you're tainted. Now and forever."