Page 4 of Hexual Healing
One second, I was drifting in grayscale purgatory.The next?I was yanked by something primal and magnetic, as if a lasso made of familiar, frayed magic had decided I’d lingered too long.No sigil.No grounding glyph.Just a violent pull.Then a twist.Then…
Gravity.
I slammed back into the world with a full-body thud and a mouthful of dirt, covered in what I could only pray was my own snot.
Wheezing, magic sputtering, I rolled to my side and promptly vomited a whole lifetime’s worth of curse residue.The air reeked of truck stop incense and industrial grease.Concrete bit into my cheek.A blurry neon sign flickered and buzzed overhead.
I blinked up at the night sky.The stars didn’t answer.But the ground underneath me was blessedly solid.
Somehow, we’d landed at a gas station in goddess only knows where.
Gary was three feet away, curled inside a discarded slushy cup.His eye stalks slowly emerged like two very judgmental periscopes.He looked around.Then at me.Then at the sky.
Is he rolling his eyes?
“Don’t say it,” I croaked, dragging myself into a seated position and rubbing my temples, like that’d do anything for interdimensional whiplash.
Gary remained expressionless.But when I reached to pick him up, he made a sound.A wet, irritated squelch.Then extended one delicate antenna to point toward the convenience store like the diva he was.
“You want a snack,” I translated, already exhausted.
He held the pose.
I sighed and tried to stand.My knees buckled like a garage-sale lawn chair, but I was eventually successful in making it to the passenger seat of my freshly trashed, newly materialized car, also covered in goo, and fished four dollars in sweaty singles out of my bra.
“I have this.And a cursed punch card for a metaphysical laundromat that doesn’t exist anymore.”
No response.
“And a safety pin.”
Still nothing.Just one long, slow retreat into his shell.
“Gary.I’m broke.Hexed.Malnourished.Possibly cosmically concussed.I’m not buying you a damn—” He withdrew into his shell mid-glare.My voice softened as I relented.“Fine.I’ll find something.”
Under normal circumstances, I would have met his wrath glare for glare, but I was suspicious that he might have dragged me out of the InBetween.And if that were the case, Gary was more powerful than I knew, and I sure as shit didn’t think it was wise to piss him off in my current state.
Better safe than sorry, my not-so-sweet little mollusk.
The banshee-warded door howled when I entered.It sounded like an actual banshee, not a metaphorical one.The charm wailed for a full five seconds, pausing only when the cashier chucked a pencil at it and muttered, “Not again.”
She didn’t look up after that.I kept my head down and grabbed the essentials.
One problem: I only have $4.As in, I was flat, busted, broke.
One solution: charm magic.
Risks?Astronomical.But charm didn’t need precision.It needed hunger.Conviction.Blind faith, or at least massive amounts of confidence.I usually had them all in spades.
I walked to the back fridge.Rolled my shoulders.Licked my lips.
Then, very deliberately, I opened the door with a flourish, bent slightly at the waist, and whispered: “Hey, gorgeous.”
The now enchanted security mirror caught my gaze.My reflection flickered.Then winked.
Good enough.
I turned and casually strolled to the counter like a woman who hadn’t just interdimensionally face-planted, bedraggled and covered in a thin layer of goo, which was now starting to crust over.Laying the items down with just enough confidence to fake a functioning credit score, I gave my biggest, friendliest smile.