by Jade Alters
It seems unlikely to me that a wizard who was clearly doing some magic on the side of the sinister (considering the panther sacrifice and all) would agree to help me out of the goodness of his heart. On the other hand, the spell he was doing was clearly illegal. The magical authorities don’t allow spells involving certain animal sacrifices, and certainly not with something like a panther. If I turned him in, he’d at least have his license to practice magic suspended. Maybe I could use that against him.
I sip my coffee as I contemplate this, leaning against the counter in the kitchen, and Millie looks up at me and barks. “What?” I say to her. “Yeah, I know it’s blackmail. Technically. Do you have any better ideas? Look at my face.” Millie barks again. Millie really doesn’t seem to care about my face. Sweet of her.
First things first. I have no idea where this wizard is. All I really know is he frequents my favorite magic shop and sometimes he does super creepy spells in the woods. I guess I’ll start with the magic shop first. I can go down to Altha’s and just ask around. Not that Altha seems like somebody who’d be very willing to give up details about her customers, assuming she has any information to give. But maybe I can buy it from her. Or else, I can just stake the place out until the dark wizard shows up again. Though God knows when that will be.
I eat some cereal, get dressed, and head off to Altha’s feeling not great about what I’m doing. But then again, who knows? Maybe I’ll get this all fixed and eventually this will just be a crazy story that I tell my little panther children someday (one each from Jared, Dylan, Max, and Freddie). Gosh, they would make beautiful children.
I park at Altha’s and sit there for a minute, listening to some Nine Inch Nails and trying to psych myself up. This is all a little more femme fatale than I’m used to. I’ve brought my scarf, hat, and sunglasses, and now I put them all on. I kind of hate wearing that stuff as much as the scars, but I don’t really want anyone to stare. Then again, the crowd who hangs around Altha’s might not be the type to care.
When I walk into Altha’s, she hovers over to me right away. It’s almost as if she immediately senses something is wrong. Or maybe she senses the messed up magic attached to me because of the scars.
As per usual, Altha is wearing a cloak, although this one is purple while usually, her cloak is gray. I guess she’s feeling festive although the hood is still pulled way down. This time I actually wonder if something is wrong with her face too. You never know. I stand there in the store, not bothering to pretend to look for brew ingredients. I feel as if she already knows why I’m here.
“Ask me.” Altha sways on her feet and I can’t see her face but I sense she’s staring at me.
“I’m looking for a dark wizard,” I say slowly. “He was here the last time I came in.”
“You have...twisted magic attached to you,” Altha says, ignoring me.
“Yeah.” I take a deep breath and take off my hat, glasses, and scarf. “Yep. I did a spell and I screwed it up. Do you know how to fix this? I could get the spell and show it to you if—"
Altha shakes her head. “No. I don’t...involve myself…”
I clench my jaw. She could help, she just doesn’t want to involve herself.
“I could pay you—"
“No.”
I heave a sigh and say, “Okay, well then do you know where I can find that wizard?”
“Walter?” Altha says.
I gape at her. “Walter? The dark wizard’s name is Walter?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, well. Do know where Walter is then?”
Altha doesn’t speak for a while, and I think she’s going to say she doesn’t involve herself again but instead she says, “Yes...for the right price.”
“You won’t let me pay you to help me with this messed up spell, but you’ll let me pay you for info on this guy?” I say dryly. “Is that it?”
“Yes.”
Must be a magic thing, I guess.
“Okay…” I throw up my hands and say, “Fifty bucks?”
“Yes.”
Shoot. I should have started lower and let her haggle. Maybe she would have done it for twenty. But I dig fifty bucks out of my wallet anyway. I know enough now not to come to Altha’s without a bunch of cash. Somehow I hand her the money without even seeing her hand. It just sort of disappears up inside her sleeve. After she takes the money, she hovers over behind her counter and writes something down on a piece of paper, blessedly assuring me she does still have hands.
Altha’s penmanship is surprisingly impressive. The directions go to a house in Little Slough, not far from the magic shop. There’s no street named, just a lot of landmarks and turns described. I suspect it’s close to the swamp. I thank Altha and get out of there.
My car doesn’t like the drive to Walter’s house. I’m not even sure I’m on a road as I make my way there. My little Camry is struggling over some bumps that nearly have me hitting my head on the ceiling. I hope I can drive out of here okay. The last thing I need is to get stuck in some mud, and it is starting to drizzle outside, as warm as it is.
Turn left at the banana tree.
There are about a million banana trees around here, but I find a particularly large one at the end of the road so I inwardly cross my fingers and turn left. There are no more directions left, and when I look up I do see what could be described as a home in front of me. Truthfully, I don’t know if I could really call it a house; it’s more of a dwelling. The place is a kind of hovel entirely covered with vines and leaves, a mass of overgrown shrubbery and grass grows up in front of it. Looking closely, I can see a trail flattened out to the door where the wizard must walk. I pull over to park and make my way down, trying to avoid the stickier looking patches of mud.
This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, I tell myself. But I make myself keep walking, following the tamped down grass all the way to the door. It’s not really a conventional wooden door. It looks like it’s made of bamboo or something, and it’s all covered in vines and ivy. But before I can figure out how to get Walter’s attention, the door opens, and he appears. The room behind him is dimly lit. I only see a glowing lantern on a table.
Walter scowls at me and says, “Who are you?”
There’s something kinda disappointing about this guy’s appearance, considering he’s a dark wizard who lives totally off the grid and in a pretty magical looking hovel. He’s kinda pudgy and he has shaggy salt and pepper hair. He doesn’t even look evil. He looks like somebody’s uncle. A gross uncle, yes, but an uncle nonetheless. He does smell like old fish though. Not at all attractive or appealing, but not obviously evil. Then he steps into the light, and I see his eyes. They look...empty. There’s just nothing there at all. He’s dangerous, this guy. I should remember that, but I don’t want to be scared either.
“Hi, uh, Walter. I know you’re a pretty powerful wizard,” I say slowly, forcing myself to look into the dark and empty depths of his eyes. “I’d like your help with a spell.” I’m not wearing anything to cover my face now. I figure Walter doesn’t care if I have ugly scars.
He scowls at me again, looking me up and down. “I know you… Why do I know you?”
He shouldn’t really. Or anyway, he should only recognize me from the magic shop. When I interrupted his ritual, I was a panther. Although if he’s powerful enough, for all I know he has a way of sensing people.
I lick my lips, trying to decide how to play this, and he just shrugs and starts to close the door. “Whatever. I’m not helping you, girly. Get off my property, or I’ll hex you into next Tuesday.”
“Wait!” I sum up my courage and try to look remotely tough. Maybe the scars will help that. “The reason I seem familiar is because I interrupted one of your spells. About a week ago in Foggy’s woods. You were about to kill a panther?”
Walter’s whole face changes. His eyes light up, and he sneers. He doesn’t look like anybody’s uncle now. Not a nice uncle anyway. “You’re the stupid cat who interrupted my life extensi
on! You little shifter bitch!” His turns just a little bit yellow, and I step back. I can feel the magic coming off of him in waves.
“Now wait a minute!” I say, shouting over him. “You were about to kill a panther! That’s illegal! If the magical authorities found out, they’d at least suspend your license, but they won’t find out if you help me!”
He looks so angry that I suspect I’m about to be killed. “You’re blackmailing me,” he says, hissing a little. “And you don’t have any proof!” He says that, sure, but he looks pretty uncertain. He is afraid. I can tell.
“Don’t I?” I say carefully, raising an eyebrow. It’s complete bullshit but apparently, I’m convincing enough.
Walter snorts and then sighs as he leans in the door. “Alright, girly. I’ll help you. For ten grand.”
“Fuck you!” I blurt out. “I’m the one doing the blackmailing here! Besides, I don’t have ten grand? Are you out of your mind? You might as well kill me now, you might as well—"
“Alright, alright.” He scoffs at me and then looks me up and down in a way that I can’t mistake and makes my stomach turn. “So the spell I was doing with the panther was to lengthen my life, but you screwed it up. I’m going to try it again—"
“Why would I agree to let you kill me!” I say, throwing up my hands. “Again, I’m doing the blackmailing!”
“Shut the hell up, would you? I’m not gonna kill you,” he says. He leans into me a little, and I recoil. “This is a different version. But it does require...certain sexual acts? You don’t have to pay a dime though. Then I’ll help you with your spell. I assume it’s to fix your fucked up face.”
I feel sick. I’m going to have to have sex with him. God knows what a dark wizard is into; plus there’s actual dark magic involved. I feel like I’ve hit rock bottom, but then again, if he can truly fix my face...do I have a choice?
“I’ll...think about it,” I mumble.
“Hey, listen to me.” He grabs my chin in his big hand so hard that I’m sure it will leave a bruise, and I yelp in surprise. “You’re not blackmailing nobody, little girl. If you go to the wizard cops, I’ll make sure those ugly scars stay right where they are for the rest of your life. But...if you play nice with this ritual then, yeah, I’ll help you. Everybody gets what they want.”
“Yeah, right,” I say under my breath. “As I said, I’ll think about it.”
“Don’t think too long,” Walter cracks. “I won’t wait forever. I’ll be at that same swamp in Foggy’s woods tomorrow night. Show up, and we can get this done.” He winks at me and I grimace. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”
I leave feeling pretty disgusting, but I try not to think about that. Alright, well, clearly “certain sexual acts” potentially refers to something pretty gross, but it would only be for one night and then Walter would fix my face and I would be fine. I try to get myself used to the idea. It’s not really the idea of having sex in trade for magical help that is so awful, it’s more that Walter is evil and smells like old fish and doesn’t look any more appealing than old fish either.
Halfway home, I pull over because I feel sick and end up vomiting into a shrub.
This day isn’t going great.
When I get home, I pet Millie and try to look on the bright side as I lay on my couch like a slug. I have a solution after all. The end is definitely in sight. I just have to do this one horridly unpleasant thing first, and then it will all be over. At this point, I really just want my face back. But if the spell can be corrected and I get a little dash of extra beauty, that would be even better.
I pick up my phone and sigh. I've got a bunch of texts from the guys that I haven’t answered except to tell them that I’m still feeling ill. I just don’t know what to say to them.
A pounding on my door makes me sit up with a jerk.
“Hope!” It’s Max and my heart gives a little leap, though at the same time it only makes me sad to hear his voice as he shouts through the door. “It’s me! Max! I—I brought you some chicken soup. I know you don’t want to have visitors right now, so I’m sorry if this is intrusive! We just—We’re really worried about you! So...I have soup.” I sit there, my eyes welling up with tears, as this sweet man shouts his concern through my front door. I want to get up and open the door and throw my arms around him. After what happened with Walter, I wish I could. I could use some comfort, even I’m the one doing all this to myself. But I just can’t bear for them to see me like this.
I sit there, frozen, my eyes shut. I wish everything was different. I wish I hadn’t even tried to brew that stupid spell in the first place.
“I’m just going to leave the soup right here on the front step!” Max says. “Sorry...if I bothered you.”
He sounds so sad that I just burst into tears. I wait several minutes until I creep out to the front step and collect the soup.
That night, I eat Max’s chicken soup for dinner, and it’s so good, it makes me want to cry again. I send him a text to tell him so, but I stay vague about my “illness” and what I’m doing. Anyway, as sweet as they are, it’s not as if I owe them an explanation. Max texts me back that he hopes I feel better, and I sulk and eat my soup.
It’s decided then. I only have one solution.
I’m going to have to go bang Walter in his dark ritual of doom.
That night, I cry on my pillow for hours before I finally manage to fall asleep.
Dylan
The other guys like to tease me sometimes just because I’m the youngest. It doesn’t really bother me though. I just tease Jared for being old, and I figure that means we’re even. They’ve also teased me before about having never been in love. But I feel as if I’ll have the last laugh on that one. The other guys may have been in love before, but I know it was nothing like this. I know, because they keep saying so. Whatever this is with Hope, it’s incredibly intense. All four of us are constantly worried about her. We get our work done because we have to—going out to brew spells of protection or searching for whatever bad guy is hassling some witch. But when we come home at the end of the day, there’s only one topic of discussion anymore: What about Hope?
It was probably a little over the top for us to start tracking what she’s doing, but we’ve been seriously worried. Now that we see who she’s been talking to, we’re a lot more worried. Max said he felt a little bad pounding on her door and pretending he didn’t know about this Walter guy, but me being the youngest and Jared being our de facto leader, I’m just going with his decision. It might be weird, but we’re doing this for Hope. Even if it means lying to her.
That evening, after Max drops off the soup, we all sit down at the dining room table with our dinner (Freddie’s famous linguine) and talk about Walter the evil wizard. We followed our sense bond to Hope to his house. We almost missed it since we were on foot and the woods and swamp are so thick over there, her car didn’t end up outpacing us much. We didn’t hear her conversation. But we were able to find out who the guy in the house was.
He’s Walter. Walter the evil wizard.
“Okay,” Max says, sighing. He’s poking at his pasta and not really eating it. “What do we know about this guy?”
Jared is sitting in front of his computer, but now he shuts his laptop and leans on his hand, reading from a notepad. “I had to ask around. There’s nothing about this guy online. But his name is Walter. He’s a pretty advanced wizard. Practices a lot of dark magic on the down low.”
“This is the guy who was going to kill the panther before she stopped it, right?” Freddie says.
“That’s my theory,” Jared says, frowning at his notepad and scratching his head.
It doesn’t make any sense to me. “Why would she want to talk to that guy?”
“When you were watching the house, did you notice that she always covers up when she goes outside?” Max says. “Like scarf, hat, glasses—It’s like when we went to check on her and she was wearing the hoodie?”
“Hmmm.” Jared taps the table. “M
aybe this is about a spell gone wrong? Something messed her up?”
“Could be a shifter problem,” Max says. “Think she’s half cat under there or something?”
Jared snorts at that. “You think there’s any way we could tell using the sense bond?” Everyone just looks at each other blankly when he says that and Jared says, “Jesus. Go get the spell book we used, guys. The one with the healing bond? It’s also got stuff about the sense bond in there.”
I reflexively say, “Can’t we just google it—"
“Somebody go get the book!” Jared says, rolling his eyes. Max huffs but he stands to find the book, and Jared tells us how the wizard shops at a shack of a magic shop in Little Slough where Hope also shops. She went looking for him there. This guy just sounds like bad news. I hate the thought of Hope going to him for anything.
I feel like the subtext here is that we’re hurt she didn’t come to us for help.
Though I suppose if there’s something wrong with her, she might just be embarrassed.
Jared seems to sense my anxiety, and he wraps an arm around me. “Hey, don’t worry. We’re gonna figure out what’s going on with Hope and help her out. She’ll be okay.”
“Yeah…” I smile tightly. “I just—I wish I just knew if she feels the same way about us as we feel about her.”
“Me too,” Jared says, squeezing the back of my neck.
“We’re falling in love with her,” I whisper. “Aren’t we?”
Jared chuckles at that and says, “I know I am. Aren’t you?”
I don’t think I really need to answer that but just then Max returns with the spell book. He plops it down on the table and starts paging through it. A big chunk of it is beauty spells we never use. Suddenly Max frowns and opens the book to show that one page has clearly been ripped out of it.
