Accidental Magic

by P. C. Cast

  Just before she stood up, Jenny motioned for her to lean across the table. “Here, this will help.” She deftly unbuttoned the top two buttons of Summer’s blouse. “That’s better. I’d do a quick make-your-nipples-hard spell, but what with your opposite magic, I’m afraid of what would happen.”

  “Don’t even think about it,” Summer said. She stood up and tossed back her hair.

  “You are beautiful and powerful and desirable. Just keep telling yourself that.”

  “Okay. Okay. Okay.” Nodding woodenly, Summer made her way to the bar.

  “Kenny-benny, sweetie-weetie! You have a glob of cheese on your lip. Want me to get that for you, baby?” One of the twin fairies cooed.

  “No, let me!” said her sister, using a tip of her wing to push her sibling out of her way so she could angle her lithe body closer to Ken.

  “Girls, girls—settle! I can wipe my lip myself,” Ken said, laughing.

  “We know you can, honey-bunny!” said one twin.

  “But it’s so much more fun if we help you!” trilled the other twin.

  None of them noticed Summer. At all. So she drew a deep breath, closed her eyes, and told herself, When I speak, I’m going to pretend to be Jenny. She opened her eyes, lowered her voice, and said, “Excuse me, I need a word with Ken.” Summer almost jumped at the strong, stern tone she had (somehow) used. All of the fairies, including the ditzy waitress who was carrying their veggie pizza from the oven, turned to stare at her. I’m Jenny…a Certified Discipline Nymph…beautiful…powerful…desirable…

  “Hi, Summer,” Ken grinned at her. “Do you want me?”

  “Y-yes, I do,” Summer stumbled briefly, but then she straightened her spine and lifted her chin. “Could I speak with you? Privately?” She didn’t let herself look at the scantily clad, beautiful fairies.

  “Okeydokey!” Ken said. “Hang on, girls. I’ll be right back.” He took Summer’s elbow and moved her to an unoccupied spot down the counter. “What’s up?”

  “Ken, I’d like to…um…” She swallowed the lump that had suddenly risen in her throat and made another attempt. “What I mean is would you want to—” Thankfully, a fit of ridiculously loud coughing from Jenny interrupted Summer’s babble and gave her a chance to pull herself together. “Ken, would you like to come over tomorrow night and have dinner with me?” she finally managed to say.

  “Yeah, sounds cool. Are you living at your sister’s cabin?”

  “My sister’s cabin. Yes.”

  “Great. So, I’ll see you about eight?”

  “About eight. Yes.”

  “Want me to bring something to drink?”

  “Something to drink. Yes.”

  “Okay, see you tomorrow at eight!” He smiled again and went back to his seat at the bar.

  “Okay. Yes. Yes. Okay,” she told the air as she moved back to their table.

  “Here, have the rest of my martini. You look shell-shocked. Are you okay? What did he say? How did it go?”

  “Yes. He said yes,” Summer said and then gulped Jenny’s martini.

  3

  “Hangover. Ugh, I sooo have a hangover.” Summer shakily sipped the sludge that almost passed for coffee she’d gotten from the teachers’ lounge.

  “I’m usually not a big proponent of control, but three martinis was probably one and a half too many,” Jenny said. She studied Summer with a critical eye. “Good thing you’re young. Only the very young can still look as good as you do this morning and deal with a wicked hangover.”

  “You keep talking like you’re so much older than me, but you can’t be over thirty,” Summer said irritably.

  “Oh, girlfriend, don’t be silly. I’m two hundred and thirty-five. And a half.”

  Summer choked on her coffee.

  “Discipline Nymphs are some of the most long-lived of the nymphs. It’s because discipline is good for body and soul.”

  “I had no idea,” Summer said.

  “Well, girlfriend, you do now.”

  “Hey, speaking of stuff I’m confused about, would you please explain to me why a Certified Discipline Nymph is so roll-your-eyes about my control issues? Isn’t control pretty much just another word for discipline?”

  “Oh, my poor, deluded young friend. Let Ms. Sullivan help you. Discipline is what you have to be good at so you can release control. Girlfriend, you’re too tightly wrapped. Flex those discipline muscles, relax that snoreable übercontrol you carry around with you, and you’ll be amazed at the results.”

  “I dunno…” Summer said doubtfully. “But I can tell you I never thought of discipline as the antithesis of control before.”

  “Gives you a whole new outlook on discipline, doesn’t it?”

  “You’re right about that. I can tell you that I’m going to start flexing my discipline muscles with the hormones and germs in my class. Like you said last night, I’m only going to call them by their last names, miss or mister whoever. It’s much more formal; much more disciplined.”

  “Well done, you!” Jenny smiled encouragement. “I knew you’d be a quick study. Speaking of the germs and hormones, let’s round them up. I do believe I see the field trip bus waiting for us out there.” As they herded the students onto the bus, Jenny called, “You did clear this with Barnabas, the gallery owner, didn’t you?”

  “I sent him an e-mail saying that I’d be bringing a busload of kids to view the exhibit today. I got a reply saying that would be fine.”

  “Good. I was worried for a second, because I thought I heard that Barnabas had left for a vacation to France. The nymph gossip said that the poor gay vampire took off to France because he was inconsolable about Hunter Knight falling for Evie Tawdry instead of him.”

  “But Hunter’s not gay,” Summer said as they followed the last student on the bus and took their seats near the front.

  “Moxie, we’ve got them all,” Jenny called to the short, squat, green-haired bus driver.

  “Moving out, Ms. Sullivan,” Moxie growled, let loose the emergency brake, and pulled the bus out onto the street.

  “What is she?” Summer whispered. Eyes focused on the back of Moxie’s green hair, she was sure she saw one of the thick strands move of its own accord.

  “Mox? She’s a troll. They make the best bus drivers. They don’t put up with shit.” And then, as if she literally had eyes in the back of her head, Moxie’s head turned almost all the way around and she barked, “Sam Wheeler! Get your big, nasty boots off my bus seat. You are not at home. Put them up there again, and I’ll take those feet off at the ankles. I’d much rather clean up blood than pig crap.”

  “Yes ma’am,” Sam said sheepishly.

  “See? Trolls know their discipline. Anyway, where were we? Oh yeah. No, Hunter’s definitely not gay, as everyone, including Barnabas, knows. But I feel kinda sorry for the poor gay vamp anyway; unrequited love gets me right here.” Jenny fisted her hand over her heart.

  “Really? I wouldn’t have pegged you for the sentimental type, Ms. Discipline.”

  “I’m not sentimental. I’m romantic.”

  “A discipline romantic?”

  “Girlfriend, you have so much to learn. Romance is best with a healthy touch of discipline. Especially if it involves whips and handcuffs. And since we’re on the romance subject, what’s on the menu tonight with Kenny-benny?”

  “I really wish you wouldn’t call him that.”

  “Sorry. I’ll be good. Promise.”

  Summer noted that Jenny’s sparkly eyes said she was the opposite of sorry, but she decided not to say anything. Plus, she really did want to go over what she was going to cook for Ken. She was going to cook for Ken! Just the thought had her stomach rolling with nerves. She cleared her throat. “Okay, I thought I’d make a nice salad, with lots of lovely greens, and then have spaghetti with tofu and, of course, garlic bread, and maybe finish up with a big slice of peach cobbler. What do you think?”

  “I think I was asking about your lingerie and not about dinner.”r />
  “But you asked me what was on the menu tonight.”

  “Yes, and I expected you to say something like, ‘Why, Jenny, me and my lovely black panty and bra set are definitely the first three courses.’” At Summer’s blank look, Jenny’s eyes got big and round. “Oh, Goddess! When you asked him over for dinner, you really meant dinner.”

  Summer frowned. “Of course I did.”

  “Oh, um. Okay, well, tofu spaghetti sounds just dandy then.”

  Summer seemed not to have heard her. “Ohmygoddess! Do you think Ken thinks I’m on the menu, too?”

  “Let’s hope so,” Jenny said.

  “No!” Summer gasped. “That’s not what—I mean, I wasn’t thinking that. Exactly. Or at least not on our first date. That’s isn’t in accordance with my plan. We weren’t going to have sex until the third date.” She chewed her bottom lip. “Jenny, have I messed up?”

  “Are you kidding? Kenny-ben—ur—I mean, Kenny isn’t exactly Mr. Forceful. If he comes on to you, and you don’t want to do him, just say no.”

  “I might want to do him,” Summer whispered.

  “Okay, then just say no nicely.”

  “But that wasn’t what I was planning.”

  “Oh, please! Would you loosen up? If you want to have sex, then boink the fairy. If you don’t, then wait until the third or even the thirtieth date. Whatever.”

  Summer fanned herself. “I’m never going to be able to do this.”

  Jenny peered down her nose at her as if she were an unusual specimen under a magnifying glass. “Darling, didn’t you date at all in college?”

  Summer’s cheeks flushed pink. “Yeah, of course I did.”

  “And?”

  “And nothing. If I liked the guy, I decided when we’d, well, do it, and then we did it.”

  “Always according to your well-controlled plan,” Jenny supplied.

  “Always.”

  “Oh my Goddess! You’ve really never been swept off your feet by hot, sticky, steamy, raunchy sex.”

  When a couple of the kids sitting closest to the front of the bus gasped and laughed, Jenny turned her narrowed eyes on them, instantly quieting their tittering.

  Summer frowned and lowered her voice. “No, and I don’t think I’d like what you just described. It sounds so…so…”

  “So out-of-control?”

  “Yes. Exactly. And I’m not particularly good with out-of-control.”

  “That is shameful,” Jenny said.

  “Well, it’s the way I am. And there’s nothing wrong with the way I am,” Summer said, more than a little defensively.

  “Oh, girlfriend, I don’t mean to make you feel bad about yourself. It’s just that you’re missing so much.”

  Summer shrugged. “I don’t know. I had fun in college.”

  “I don’t mean frat banging and one-night stands. I mean love.”

  “Huh?”

  “Girlfriend, don’t you know that love can’t be controlled and planned and prepackaged or hermetically sealed to be taken out when it fits into your schedule?”

  Summer chewed her lip and thought about Ken. When she spoke, her voice was so soft that Jenny had to tilt her head toward her to hear her. “I was kinda thinking that Ken would be the guy I let myself fall in love with. You know, college is over. He’s here in my hometown. He’s literally the boy next door.”

  “I don’t know. It just sounds so clinical. And love is definitely not clinical.” Jenny shook her head. “No. This will never do.” She tapped a long, manicured red fingernail against her skintight black slacks. “What if I did a spell on you—one that I meant to be the opposite of what I really cast?” Before Summer could protest, she hurried on. “I could cast a control spell on you. That should get zapped by your opposite magic and allow you to relax with him tonight. Then what happens between you can at least happen naturally. Right?”

  “Jenny, you can’t ever, ever cast any kind of spell on me. It won’t work like you expect. I guess the opposite magic isn’t exactly the right way to describe what I have. It’s more like opposite squared. It doesn’t just make the spell reverse; it also makes it wacky.”

  “Define wacky.”

  “Okay, here’s the perfect example. When I was in high school, Glory Tawdry thought she would help me out. It was right before our senior homecoming dance, and I didn’t actually have a date with Ken, but I’d told him that I’d meet him there and would save all the best dances for him.”

  Jenny shook her head. “This has been going on between you two for years, hasn’t it?”

  “This?”

  “Waffling. Unfulfilled romance. Missed opportunities. All because of your insane need for control.”

  “Yes. And my need for control is not insane. Anyway, as per usual for my high school days, overnight I grew the biggest, nastiest zit right in the middle of my forehead. No amount of makeup would cover it. It was like I had a third eye.”

  “Yuck.”

  “Yeah. So I asked Glory to cast a zit spell on me.”

  “Goddess! There’s such a thing as a zit spell?”

  Summer nodded. “She got the spell from her sister, Evie. You know she’s a vengeance witch.”

  “Oh, that’s right. Okay, go on.”

  “Well, it should have been simple enough. I wanted the zit gone. I have opposite magic. Glory casts a spell to fill my face with zits, which should have totally cleared my face of zits.”

  “It does sound simple enough.”

  “It didn’t work out that way.”

  “What happened?”

  “It cleared my face. Of everything.”

  “Everything?”

  “Absolutely everything. I had no gigantic zit, but I also had no eyes, nose, or mouth.”

  “Shit! What did you do?”

  “Freaked out. I knew it was bad, because I couldn’t see anything, but when Glory started screaming, ‘Oh great Goddess help! Her face is gone,’ I lost it. I tried to scream with her, couldn’t, so I did what any normal girl would do when scared shitless and utterly blind.”

  “You ran?”

  “Yep. And promptly fell over my cool fuchsia beanbag chair, smacking my head on the corner of my very large and very metallic stereo cabinet, which negated the spell. Thank the Goddess.”

  “So your face came back?”

  Summer nodded. “Along with the Cyclops zit. See, that’s what happens when I think I’m smart, take a chance, and let my opposite magic do its thing. It never works exactly opposite. It’s more like sideways, around-the-corner, upside-down magic. And the spell only goes away if something major happens to me.”

  “Like smacking your head.”

  “Like smacking my head.”

  “Okay, I get that that was bad, and your control issues are making more and more sense, but have you ever tried to control your magic instead of controlling yourself?”

  “Huh?”

  “Think about it. You have weird magic, fine. Besides that, you have strong weird magic. How you’ve dealt with it is to clamp down major control over everything else in your life, but maybe all you have to do is to take control of your magic—you know, show it who’s boss—and make it act right.”

  Summer shook her head. “You’re nuts.”

  “I’m just sayin’ discipline can be a good thing.”

  “Sure, for someone who is comfortable with it,” Summer said.

  “So get comfortable with it.”

  “Easier said than done.”

  “Maybe you just need the right incentive,” Jenny said. “Want me to give you a quick dominatrix lesson or twelve? It’d be fun.”

  “Thanks, but no thanks. I think I’ll just bumble along as I am, which means no ‘helpful’ magic spells from you or anyone else. Okay?”

  Jenny held up her hand like she was taking an oath. “Promise.” Then she added, “Guess it looks like you’re going to have to get a handle on your übercontrol issues and your bizarre magic.”

  Summer sighed. “Sadly, it
looks like it.”

  “Well, never fear. You have a Certified Discipline Nymph on your side. Plus, Kenny-benny may surprise both of us and take forceful control of your date tonight and ravish you properly.” Jenny giggled and then, at Summer’s frown, cleared her throat and sobered up. The bus lurched to an awkward halt in front of Dark Shadows, Mysteria’s only art gallery. “But before anyone gets ravished, we will edify and educate the masses.” She winked at Summer, stood up, smoothed her hair, and faced the bus full of teenagers. “Touch anything and you will have to deal with me—before school in the boy’s restroom with a toothbrush, a can of Comet, and a collection of Shakespearian sonnets.”