Page 20 of Hexual Healing
“A very small centaur,” Gary corrected.“More of a mini centpony, really.”
The table-creature heard him and trotted over, nuzzling against my leg.Because of course it did.Everything I accidentally hexed today wanted to be besties.
“This is a disaster,” I moaned.
“This is adaptation,” Baz countered.He caught my hand, stilling my increasingly frantic cleaning of his wounds.“Your magic is chaos.Pure, undiluted chaos.You can't control it because it's not meant to be controlled.”
“Then what am I supposed to do?”
“Aim it.”
“I tried aiming!I aimed at Illanya and hit real estate!”
“And it worked.”His thumb brushed over my knuckles, and the sparks literally flew.The curtains caught fire.The house immediately put them out with what I swear was an exasperated sigh.“You defeated a dragon by accident.Imagine what you could do on purpose.”
“Probably destroy the world.”
“Or save it.”
I looked into his eyes.The brown had changed.It now had gold flecks that seemed to glow in the magical light still pooling around us.The curse twisted in my chest, wanting to hurt him for making me feel things, wanting to protect him because those feelings were real.
“The curse is getting stronger,” I admitted.“Every time I'm near you, every time you touch me, it digs deeper.”
“I know.”
“It's going to try to kill you soon.”
“I know.”
“Why aren't you running?”
He smiled, and it was soft and dangerous all at once.“Because I've been running my whole life.From what I am, from what I want, from the fear of losing everything again.”His hand tightened on mine.“I'm tired of running.”
The magic between us took hold, and suddenly, everything in the room was floating.Not in a bad way, just floating as if gravity were just a memory.Furniture drifted lazily through the air.Gary rose from his shelf, revolving slowly like the world's most judgmental spinning top.We were held in a bubble of golden-purple light.
“Well,” Gary said, remarkably calm for a snail in zero gravity.“This is new.”
“I'm not doing it,” I whispered.
“We all are,” Baz said.“Together.”
The mate mark around my neck grew warm and comforting.The curse shrieked in response, sending needles of pain through my chest, but the floating continued.Two magics at war, with us suspended, bathed in golden-purple light, right in the middle of everything.
“It's beautiful,” I said, watching a book do a lazy barrel roll from one side of the room to the other.
“You're beautiful,” Baz said, then immediately looked like he wanted to take it back.“I mean, your magic is…”
Everything dropped.
Dropped, as in just released its magical hold and let gravity reassert itself with prejudice.We crashed to the floor in a heap of limbs and furniture.The coffee-table-centaur landed on its back, legs kicking helplessly in the air.Gary plopped onto a cushion with an indignant squeak.
“The house is laughing at us,” I groaned from underneath Baz, who had somehow twisted to take the brunt of the fall.
And it was.The walls were shaking with silent mirth.The remaining pictures rattled in their frames.Even the half-door was quivering.
“Your house is a dick,” I told Baz.
“Our house,” he corrected, then froze.“I mean—” He was interrupted by the front door exploding again.This time from sheer embarrassment.The poor, pathetic half-door just gave up the ghost entirely, falling off its hinges with a defeated thud.