A Witchly Influence

by Stephanie Grey

  “To not shriveling his dick!” the rest of us cheered and clinked our glasses.

  “I thought about making it always flaccid,” I admitted.

  “The Council would have put you on probation,” Tess said, flinging her red hair over her shoulder.

  “It would have been worth it, wouldn’t it, hun?” Siobhan said mischievously.

  I laughed. “Maybe.”

  “What is this? A divorce cake?” Enid was already back in my kitchen for more wine. The neon lights were still flashing obnoxiously. “How clever,” she surmised and she began to cut into it with a knife that appeared out of nowhere.

  “I have real knives,” I said.

  “I like mine from home better.” She finished slicing the cake into not so equal parts and served them.

  “Did Cindy make this?” Tess asked between mouthfuls of chocolate. “Of course she did. I wish the wife of my boss baked like this for me.” She frowned.

  “That’s what happens when you take a mortal job working as a buyer for a department store,” Siobhan said. She was scraping the icing off the top of her slice. Enid leaned over and scooped it up with her fork. “I was saving that for last!” she protested.

  “You snooze, you lose. Icing’s the best part,” Enid replied. Her tongue had turned blue from the frosting.

  Tess scowled. “Mortals are good bakers. Krispy Kreme is delicious!”

  “If you think every single tasty batch they serve doesn’t have some sort of sorcery behind it, you’re a nut,” Enid said. “Their doughnuts are too good to not have a wizard or witch in the kitchen.” She ate another bite of cake. “We should get doughnuts later, by the way.”

  “Is she serious?” Tess asked, looking at me.

  “I have no idea,” I answered truthfully.

  “I’m afraid she’s right,” Siobhan said. “I dated a health inspector once who checked out one of their kitchens and let me tag along.”

  “My point is that it doesn’t matter if you have a mortal job or not, people are people and they can be good bosses or they can be jerks like mine. It’s a universal thing, not mortals versus the magical community,” Tess said, annoyed.

  “I told you that you can come work with me,” Siobhan said.

  I started coughing as the wine caught in my throat. “You’re a Muse. You’re born a Muse, not made into one. How in the hell could Tess work with you?”

  “She could be my assistant,” Siobhan replied.

  “What kind of Muse needs an assistant?” I asked, incredulous.

  “Sometimes I might not be able to leave a client for lunch and I need someone to get it for me.”

  Enid rolled her eyes. “You’re a witch, woman! Magic is your assistant.” She took a long swig from her glass. “Needs someone to get her lunch. The nerve,” she muttered.

  “You could always work with Enid,” I suggested.

  “Enid’s job is so boring!” Tess said. “You have to learn history and stuff.”

  “Better to have knowledge in that brain of yours instead of air,” Enid said, laughing.

  “Is that a redhead joke?” Tess asked.

  “It might be,” Enid answered. She collected the empty dessert plates and put them in the sink. I heard the water turn on as she began washing dishes. Enid liked to do things herself most of the time.

  “Enid’s job is pretty interesting,” I said thoughtfully. She worked as a tour guide for a historical company called The Past is Us. It took guests through historical events where they could see important moments in history happen live, all from the safety of their invisible train cars. They used to let guests mill around and interact with the people, but their Record Keeper discovered too many events were being altered and had to be repaired, so the invisible train idea was created and utilized instead.

  “But you have to know history,” Tess insisted. “I like fashion. Besides, I can get away with little things against my boss. I cursed his coffee mug so that its contents turn cold after the first sip.” She smiled, satisfied with herself.

  “Why even bother with the first sip?” I asked.

  Tess waved her hand dismissively. “I did that once, but he yelled at the receptionist and called her incompetent. This way, it drives him crazy every day and no one else gets into trouble. You’d think the guy would learn to use another coffee cup.”

  We laughed and Enid, having returned from the kitchen, pointed out that there was no more wine left. “We should go out,” she suggested.

  I shook my head. “Oh, no. I’m done for the day.”

  Siobhan stood and put her hands on her hips. Her honey-colored hair swirled around her shoulders as she pointed at me and spoke sternly. “Listen here, Carmen. You’re a free woman finally and there are endless possibilities for you.”

  “She means men. Lots and lots of men,” Enid interrupted.

  Siobhan shushed her. “I’m doing a motivational speech here, Enid.” She looked at me again. “We need to celebrate!”

  “There’s a nice bar downtown,” I said.

  “Downtown? I think we can do better than that!” Siobhan waved her hands and we were all sitting in a private room that barely muted the loud music outside its walls.

  Enid looked down at her clothes she was still wearing from work that day and frowned. “How nice of you to take us to Paris and not bother to change our clothes for us,” she said. She smoothed her hand over her yellow polo and it became a tiny, silver halter top. When she looked up from her creation, she saw us gaping at her and shrugged. “Siobhan can’t always be the loose one in the group.”

  I laughed so hard that tears sprang from my eyes. We spent the evening dancing and drinking in Paris, and now we were walking down an alley to a bar somewhere in Ireland that Tess insisted had the best stuffed potatoes she’d ever eaten.

  The bar was small, but warm and still filled with locals. They were wearing what I could only imagine as being the itchiest wool sweaters, which made me laugh even harder that they were fulfilling the stereotype. They stared at us when we walked through the door, but Enid’s return gaze was harsh enough that they turned away almost immediately.

  “Look, a karaoke machine!” Tess said excitedly.

  Siobhan flipped through the book of music. “These are mostly nineties songs,” she murmured. “Fantastic! I’ve got Gem!”

  “Gem? Get serious. This is a party! No sappy songs. Where’s Alana Freebird? Now she’s got some stuff we can sing!” Enid scribbled her request on a napkin and shoved it into the DJ’s pocket.

  As Enid belted out old relationship ballads, the rest of us cheered her on from a table we had commandeered near the small karaoke stage. Soon, Siobhan joined her and they sang a duet, swaying back and forth to the music.

  The bartender yelled for last call and Tess booed in protest. She chugged her rum and Coke and requested another.

  “That’s enough for everyone, I think,” I said and teleported all of us back to my townhouse. I turned the spare bed into three mattresses to accommodate my friends and left them to sleep off their alcohol. Siobhan was still complaining that we had left too early as I closed the door to their room.

  The next morning, I woke up to my head feeling like it was stuffed with cotton. I snapped my fingers and I could immediately smell bacon sizzling from my kitchen. Reluctantly, I wandered out of bed and down the stairs where the bacon was laying itself on a paper towel and the eggs were scrambling themselves.

  Tess cheerfully bounded into the room. “Good morning to you!” she said happily, helping herself to orange juice.

  “Oh, make her shut up.” Enid groaned. She had plopped down on the couch, Siobhan next to her.

  “She took some No Hangover before we started drinking,” Siobhan said. “Thanks for sharing, by the way.”

  “I thought you all had already had some,” Tess said innocently. She served herself eggs and bacon. “This looks wonderful!”

  “If you don’t turn down the cheer, I’m going to do it for you,” Enid warned. Her
hair fell in tangles around her face and her makeup had smeared so much that she looked like she was ready to host a children’s party as a clown. She leaned her head against the back of the couch and immediately closed her eyes. “Why is the sunlight so bright?” she muttered.

  “Eat and you’ll feel better.” Tess set the table and motioned for the others to join her.

  I held my head in my hands. “Thanks,” I mumbled.

  “You’re welcome!” Tess replied.

  As the dishes cleaned themselves, we gathered in my living room. “What are your plans now?” Siobhan asked.

  I sighed. I had moved to South Bend, Indiana to go to school and wound up staying after I had met Matthew. I had always wanted to move somewhere else, but didn’t because Matthew was close to his family and he didn’t want to leave them. They didn’t know I was a witch, so it would have been suspicious if we had visited too often. I stayed for him, for his love for his family. “I don’t know,” I finally said. “I just know I don’t want to stay here.”

  Tess leaned forward and patted my knee. “Why don’t you move to Paris? We could be neighbors!” she said excitedly.

  “I don’t speak the language.”

  “Speak the language? Don’t be ridiculous. Everyone speaks English and you could get a Translator to teach you.”

  “A Translator would take forever. They get paid by the hour,” Siobhan said. “Move to Nashville where I am. It’s got everything you could possibly want and you could still drive that Volvo of yours around so you can feel like you fit in with the mortals.”

  “Am I going to need to defend my sedan two days in a row? I like my Volvo.”

  “I’d say move to Sheridan, but I kind of like having Wyoming to myself.”

  “No one has a state to themselves,” Tess said.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I meant having a place where none of you live so I can get some privacy and peace,” Enid corrected herself.

  “Does it really matter where you live? You can teleport anywhere. You could live in a cottage in the woods where you don’t have a neighbor for miles and miles,” Siobhan said.

  “No…” my voice trailed off. I was quiet for a moment while my friends watched me. “I think I’ll move back home.”

  “Move back home? What are you, twelve?” Enid asked, incredulous.

  “No, not back in with my family. Move back to my hometown. Be close to family, to friends. My stepfamily doesn’t know that Mom and I are witches. It’d be nice to see my stepbrothers and their children more often.”

  “That’s what the holidays are for, hun,” Siobhan said.

  “I think that’s a great idea,” Tess said. “I think we all need to go, leave Carmen alone so that she can have some time to herself.” She stood up and waited for the others to join her.

  Enid motioned for her purse and it slid over to her. She put on her sunglasses tiredly.

  “What’s with the sunglasses? It’s raining outside and you’ll be home in a second anyway,” Tess asked.

  Enid groaned. “My eyes hurt.”

  With a soft pop, my friends were gone and I was alone with my thoughts again.

  Monday morning arrived too quickly and I found myself back at work, surrounded by the pale yellow walls of my office, going through a stack of permit requests. To my annoyance, they had been dumped in the middle of my desk and on my chair instead of in the box clearly labeled “INBOX.” I suppose my coworkers thought it was more of a suggestion than a direction and I waved my hand so the requests landed neatly in a pile where they belonged.

  I was looking through one particular request where a woman wanted to enchant her son’s tree house to look like it wasn’t there so that she wouldn’t be in violation of her homeowner’s association rules. I shook my head. Mortals and their homeowner’s associations were such a pain in the butt. I scribbled my signature of approval on the bottom of the form and folded it. The paper zoomed away toward the green mailbox down the hallway. The woman would have her response within a few minutes and I hoped her son enjoyed his tree house.

  Simon knocked on my door and, without waiting for a response, strolled into my office and sat down in an orange guest chair across from me. He placed his stubby hands over each armrest and was smiling oddly at me, his eyes glinting. “I hear you want to move back home.”

  “How did you know?”

  “I have my ways,” he said mysteriously.

  “The hell you do.”

  “Okay, you caught me.” He spread his hands out, palms facing upward. “Cindy said that, when she got divorced, that was her first move. She wanted to be close to family. Of course, then she met this handsome man who convinced her to stay in town.”

  “Are you telling me you’re Cindy’s third marriage?” I said, a brow raised.

  “What?” Simon’s jaw was moving as he figured out my jab. “You’re really funny,” he said drily.

  Chuckling, I reached for another request to review. “Did you want something or did you come in here to try and fool me into thinking you were a mind reader?”

  “Actually, I did come in here for a good reason,” Simon replied, his tone more serious. “Are you really planning on moving back to North Carolina?”

  “Are you going to make fun of my sedan and New Bern now? I know it’s a small town, and I won’t stay there for forever, but I’d like a change of pace.” I leaned back in my chair. “Are you worried there won’t be a car to tease me about because I’ll just teleport directly to the office? Am I taking away the fun you have during the day?”

  “Fate says that your job has to change if you move back home,” Simon said bluntly.

  “What the fuck?” I blurted. I blushed, not having meant to curse. The news was completely unexpected. “I mean, why would Fate want to change my job? They just assign the Muses each day. I’m not a Muse.”

  “No, but you’re going to be an Influencer.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know what that is. Is that a new thing?”

  Simon blinked at the door and it closed. The room instantly felt isolated. He had blocked it from eavesdroppers. “Influencers are people who coax people into the direction they need to take in order to achieve something great in their lives.”

  “That’s what a Muse does.”

  Simon shook his head. “You’re not listening. Muses inspire. It was a Muse that inspired Adolph Hitler to paint what he did.”

  “But no one liked his paintings,” I pointed out.

  “Exactly! And look at what happened: he started another World War. Had an Influencer been around to steer him in another direction, he could have opened up a world-famous truffle shop instead and had several baking cookbooks.”

  “That’s outrageous,” I said flatly.

  “It’s not,” my boss insisted. “Fate saw that he could have had a different path if he had someone there to gently steer him in another direction.”

  “Why call it Fate if there are other options?”

  Simon waved his hand dismissively. “I don’t know. ‘Optional Paths’ wasn’t as cool of a name for that department? It doesn’t matter. They recently created the position of Influencers, though it’s a secret.”

  “Why make it a secret?” I asked tentatively.

  Simon was silent.

  “It’s a secret because they are used on witches and wizards,” I said slowly.

  Simon nodded. “Bingo.”

  “I chose to move to New Bern and Fate decided my job had to change?”

  “I don’t make the rules. You made a choice and this is what happens with that choice.”

  I frowned. “I’ll report to Fate, then?”

  Simon laughed and stomped his feet gleefully on the carpet. “Do you report to Fate? Oh, that’s a good one!”

  “Simon,” I said, my voice low.

  Wiping tears from his eyes, he stopped and cleared his throat. “We all report to them. Not with paperwork, but they’re like Elf on the Shelf. They’re always watching.”

  “You me
an Santa Claus,” I corrected.

  “No, I mean Elf on the Shelf. Santa can’t watch everyone by himself. The elves are there to keep a closer eye on things. Quit looking at me like that. Fate doesn’t have elves working for them. They’re union and Fate doesn’t like working with union workers, but that’s also a secret.”

  “Naturally,” I said lightly.

  “You’ll still report to me. We can’t have people knowing what your real job is, so we’re going to have an android do your job while you Influence.”

  My jaw dropped. “You’re replacing me with a robot?”

  “No, no, no. Not a robot.” Simon almost spat the word. “An android. Much fancier. Newer technology. It will look just like you. No one will notice, I promise.”

  “You’re telling me Nolan, who has worked next to me for the last ten years, won’t notice a robot has taken my place?”

  “If someone really needs to talk to you, you’ll pop back here. You’ll get a signal and poof, there you are, ready to chat.” Simon was teetering back and forth in his chair. “I’m so excited for you! This is a great opportunity!”

  “This doesn’t make sense. If I’m out Influencing, how are people not going to put two and two together that I’m both here, in this office, and also out there, steering people onto a different path?”

  Simon looked down at his brown leather shoes. “Uh, that’s complicated, but mostly Fate figures that if you’re in North Carolina, no one will realize that it’s not really you here, in Indiana.”

  “How convenient.”

  His eyes brightened. “Isn’t it? Anyway, when are you planning to move?”

  “I guess next week,” I muttered.

  Simon clapped his hands. “This is wonderful! An Influencer in my own presence!” He stood up to leave.

  “Simon, how do I know who to Influence?”

  My boss stopped in the middle of my doorway. “I think Fate gives you something.”

  “Like a hit list?” I said sarcastically.

  Simon turned to me and grinned. “Well, yeah.”