How (Not) to Play with Magic (A Cindy Eller Short Story Prequel)

by Elizabeth A Reeves

Tansy padded into the kitchen moments later, making me start. That was cutting it too close! We weren’t supposed to let Ordinaries like Jessi and Tansy know that magic existed. If an Ordinary found out… well there would be Hades to pay—and that would just be the first fine.

  Tansy was the epitome of the goddess-next-door with her long white-blond hair in pin curls and her lean frame dressed in a short baby-doll dress.

  “You would not believe the weird dreams I had,” she muttered as she went to get her first cup of coffee—Tansy was not a morning person. “I dreamed your little sisters—you know, the twins—were here and potty-training a dog using the toilet.”

  I laughed hollowly. “That’s silly,” I told her. “You must have eaten something weird before bed.”

  She looked thoughtful. “Just that new ice cream,” she said. “I really hope it wasn’t from that. I thought it was awesome.”

  “I have to get ready for work,” I told her quickly.

  She nodded. “Can I catch a ride with you?” she asked. “The pink bug needs to go into the shop and I’m doing books for the Davies all day today.”

  Pink-loving blond Tansy was a math genius.

  I nodded. “Be ready in ten minutes,” I told her as I rushed to get ready myself.

  My uniform was nothing fancy. I usually spent my whole day in the back kitchen of the bakery, so I didn’t have to look spectacular or anything. After my quick shower, I tucked my wild fly-away true-red hair under a kerchief and pulled on my favorite ratty jeans and a black t-shirt with a grinning skeleton on it sporting a pink bow on its head. I slid my feet into my most comfortable shoes. They were not cute, but I would be on my feet pretty much straight for the next ten hours.

  Bakery work was challenging, and the Davies had just let their other pastry chef go, so it was all on me.

  Good thing I loved my job.

  After that it was just a matter of collecting Tansy and we were on our way.

  Ten minutes later I was unlocking the door to the bakery and gathering giant blocks of butter to soften on the counter.

  Two minutes after that I was pounding stiff dough I had pulled out of the fridge—left to rise overnight—and the flour and magic were flying.

  The hardest part about working at Sugar High was keeping my magic a secret. Baking was pretty much the only time my magic worked at all. I never burned anything, and I had more than usual luck with things like soufflés that could give a pastry chef issues. To my eyes there was always a distinct sparkle in the air when I was working.

  Which was why the Davies and my roommates—who were also my coworkers—thought I was an ultra-secretive baker. I just couldn’t afford to have them see me working my magic.

  Once I had the usual offerings done I could turn my attention to mastering my brownie recipe. That was motivation enough to multi-task as much as was possible.

  At seven Jessi came into the bakery and I could hear her opening the bakery to the public. We had a few very loyal customers that liked to get certain items, like fresh croissants, from us.

  Right on time, Tansy appeared in the back to take the tray I had just pulled out of the oven.

  “These smell great,” she told me.

  I wanted to tell her how much I wanted to mess with the recipe and try something new, something that had never been tried before, but it was our morning rush and no time to be spilling my dreams and wishes into her ears.

  I knew what I would be doing with croissants, given the chance. I was itching to try a combination of Mexican chocolate, cinnamon, and chipotle as a filling for the flaky, crispy dough with the soft interior.

  As far as plain old ordinary croissants went, mine were pretty perfect… thanks to my magic.

  It was late morning, almost afternoon, before I even got the chance to work on my brownie recipe.

  I thought that it was nearly there after about a month of really trying to perfect it. I knew that I was close, but I wasn’t quite happy with it yet. I wanted it to be the epitome of chocolate decadence. I wanted every bite to be an experience that set people’s eyes rolling back in their heads.

  So far my brownie was a blend of three kinds of chocolate—the perfect mix of milk chocolate, semi-sweet, and an incredible dark chocolate that I had to order special. All of the chocolates I used were high grade stuff. I didn’t want anything but the best in my perfect creation.

  I also had included some lightly toasted Macadamia nuts. I’d found that the toasting process kept the nuts tender and risk-free for teeth.

  It just needed something more, something that would turn the corner from really good to insanely good.

  I frowned as I mixed my batter and poured the brownies into the tray. I’d already put a hint of cinnamon in the brownie, just enough of a touch to enhance the chocolate. What would really push it over the edge? Sea salt sprinkled over the top hadn’t been quite right.

  What it really needed was a pop of texture, like biting into a really good truffle.

  I frowned in thought. There was an idea!

  I reached for my ingredients and started whipping up a ganache that featured the same three chocolates as the brownie itself. When the brownies were cool I would cut them into cubes and dip them into the ganache for that little bit of texture, that delicious shell on the outside. I added some chipotle, cinnamon, and coconut cream to the ganache to give it a subtle richness and spice.

  The resulting brownies were a huge hit.

  By closing time we had completely sold out and I had a bunch of special orders for dozens of my brownies for the next day.

  At Jessi’s urging I had named them ‘Road to Bliss.’

  “These,” Tansy told me, taking one of the mini-brownies I had stashed in the back and popping it into her mouth, “are the best brownies I’ve ever had. They’re like… truffles, but more robust.”

  I beamed at the praise. I was pretty happy with my creation, especially as it was exactly that—my very first creation!

  “I called the Davies,” Jessi announced, sitting down to snatch the last crumbs from the platter. “I told them the response we’re getting and they want to add the Road to Bliss brownies to the permanent menu.”

  If I grinned any wider my skull was going to split. I felt elated and excited and… really, really, worn out. Was this what success felt like? Exhaustion?

  Which only reminded me that I had spent exactly no time during my day trying to figure out what to do about my sisters and their hairy problem.

  It looked like I was in for another sleepless night.

  Chapter Four