Transformation!

by Martin, Deborah

  That made sense. The more I learned about magic, the more I saw why people turned to a witch or wizard of a different elemental affinity for some things. That said, I still didn’t see where using magic could really benefit me, except for being able to open and then slam shut a wooden door without touching the knob. I found that particular ability a good outlet for my red-headed temper.

  “I think it’s time you concocted a potion of your own,” Gregory said. “You’ve been studying for a year and apart from practical lessons, I haven’t heard a thing about you using magic. I want to see how you’d go about something.”

  “But I don’t have a need for any of this,” I whined. “Except for Ev’s temper tantrums and stupid money management skills, my life is just fine. What do I need a potion for?”

  “Practice, if nothing else.”

  I glared at my cat. As a familiar, he was here to help with my magic. Since I didn’t do much of anything with it, I guessed he was more bored than most mundane cats appear to be.

  “Yes, I am bored. However, as I have stated before, you have a long life ahead of you. Some day you may want to put a potion together. Would it not be better to do it in the presence of someone with experience rather than botch something when you really needed it?”

  I hated school and since Fudge seemed to be immune to my whining, I turned my glare on Gregory.

  “You need to get a feel for putting ingredients together, if nothing else.” My teacher echoed my cat. Damn. They were ganging up on me.

  “So what should I make?”

  “I have another client who needs a protection spell. Her daughter is being unnecessarily teased in school. We need to put together a perfume that will not only smell nice but deter the offenders. It’s an easy potion but I want to see what you come up with.”

  Chapter Two

  I never took chemistry in school and now was thrust into an experiment. Where were my goggles and rubber gloves? I grabbed my reference binder and flipped back to the section on herbs and their properties. I needed something for protection, something that would make the creeps’ energies bounce back on them, and something that smelled nice to boot. On a teenager. Who probably didn’t even wear perfume and dressed in all black complete with combat boots. Joy.

  “What’s the kid like? I mean, is she a girly-girl, a nerd, a goth, a cheerleader? Wait, probably not that last. Cheerleaders don’t get teased; they do the teasing. But how am I supposed to make it smell?”

  Gregory smiled. Finally. “You are on the right track. She is what you would call a geek, I think. Spends a lot of time on computers; has even designed a couple of applications for mobiles.”

  “Apps,” I automatically corrected.

  “Yes, as you say, apps. She does not wear makeup and dresses mostly in denims and T-shirts. From what I’m told, she is quiet.”

  “Okay, then something subtle and not very flowery.” I started perusing my list of herbs with protective properties. Then I got to thinking about her. I got teased in school but except for being suspended for throwing a punch when a flouncy bitch wouldn’t get out of my way in the hall, I mostly just shrugged it off. Depending on what the teasing really amounted to, she needed to let it roll off her back or stand up to her aggressor. Maybe a little of both. That should probably be incorporated in there somewhere, too.

  “You cannot change a personality.”

  “I know. But you can help someone to realize they’re just as good as anyone else, can’t you?”

  “I do not understand human feelings of inadequacy, so I do not know how you expect to change her emotions with magic.”

  Fudge may be old and have witnessed a lot in his time, but he still didn’t get humans or their society very well. I wasn’t about to try to explain it – again – to a cat with a superiority complex. I sighed and turned my attention back to the ingredient choices. She needed a spine-straightening nudge, in my humble opinion.

  Gregory came out of the kitchen where, if my nose didn’t deceive me, he’d been brewing a pot of coffee. We were both addicted to the stuff and I loved visiting him and his special-roast beans. “What have you come up with?” he asked, handing me a steaming mug.

  “Something to form a shield, something to give her a straighter spine, and something to make the shield rubbery so any negative energy will bounce back at the sender,” I told him after a sip and a moan. His coffee was – almost – as good as sex.

  “Sounds reasonable. What ingredients?”

  “Since it’s something she’s going to apply like perfume, mostly essential oils in a grapeseed oil base. But, I need something rubbery. I don’t suppose you have a rubber plant growing anywhere, do you?”

  “No, but I see where you’re going. I have a SuperBall or two in the odds and ends drawer. I’ll dig one out while you mix up the rest.”

  While Gregory rummaged in one of the drawers, I pulled out an empty bottle and filled it partway with grapeseed oil. Then, a couple of drops of cedar oil, a drop of frankincense oil, and a few drops of borage oil. When Gregory plopped a small, iridescent ball into the bottle, I pulled a little energy from the air around me and aimed that along with my intent – that she be protected, learn to stand up to aggressors, and any negative energy should bounce back on the person sending it – into the mixture. I saw sparkling green energy pour itself into the bottle from my hand. (Horrors. I caught myself muttering.) Just as the last green sparkle floated into the bottle, the ball shot out and hit me squarely between the eyes, ricocheting from me to the table, ceiling, floor…and I lost track of it. Fudge didn’t, though. True to his current form as a cat, he found it under a side table and batted it around the floor for a minute or two.

  I dropped the bottle with the shock, sending oil and glass flying everywhere. “Ow. What the hell?” I cried as my eyes started watering from the pain.

  Gregory just chuckled. With a sweep of his hand, the oil and broken glass found its way into the trash can. There were times I wish I had his Air affinity. I’m a klutz and always breaking something. Another wave of his hand over my forehead had the pain subsiding to a dull throb.

  “Subtlety isn’t one of your strong suits, is it?” he asked.

  “Not usually, no,” I replied, still rubbing the spot where the ball had hit. “I prefer to face things head-on. Why?”

  “Your intention provoked a physical response rather than an emotional one. If you’d been a little gentler in what you were trying to accomplish, the ball would have just bobbed in the liquid. Translating that to our problem, the client would have used physical force in her attempts to protect herself or the aggressor would have been thrown back, thinking he or she had been attacked. Either way, it’s not the response we want.”

  “Persuasion rather than force.”

  “Yeah? And where were you when I was doing all this? I didn’t feel you like I normally do. I thought you were supposed to help.” I thought back.

  “Sometimes experience is indeed the best teacher.”

  I grunted. Some experiences I could do without. Getting smacked by a hard rubber ball was one of them.

  “So, oh wise master and unhelpful familiar, how do I change what I did so I get the proper outcome?”

  “Don’t use your own personal anger in the spell,” Gregory said.

  “I thought Fudge was supposed to suppress that stuff when I was working.” I glared at my cat.

  Gregory fixed Fudge with a stare. “He is. I have a suspicion your familiar is in teaching mode. Or, he’s just being a typical cat not concerned with anything but themselves. I understand they do that sometimes.”

  Fudge licked a paw. “I was teaching. If it had been very important, I would have aided you.”

  “With or without Fudge’s help, you need to re-do your potion,” Gregory said as he retrieved the ball from where Fudge had abandoned it on the other side of the room. “Start over.”

  Once again I mixed up the oils, plopped the ball into the bottle and infused it with my intent. This time I tr
ied to keep it low key but given how much I hated bullies of any kind, it wasn’t easy. Once again, I felt no evidence of Fudge putting a damper on my feelings. It was all up to me. As the last of my green energy sparkles disappeared into the liquid, I held my breath. The ball only looked like a fishing float, quietly bobbing on top. I’d done it!

  “Very good, Amy,” Gregory congratulated me as I put the cap on the bottle. Once again, he wrote instructions on a label and after sticking the label on the bottle, placed it next to the other bottle awaiting delivery.

  I left Gregory’s shortly thereafter, having the taxi drop me at Cassandra’s deli, downstairs from my office. First, I wanted another cup of coffee. Unlike the year before, this March was still cold and snowy – and I don’t do cold and snowy. A hot beverage was in order and her elixir was better than mine. Second, their first wedding anniversary had been a couple of days earlier and I wanted the lowdown on what they’d done. Oh, not that. Get your mind out of the gutter. But she said Tommy had a surprise for her and they hadn’t been at work on Friday, leaving Charlie to run things on his own.

  I got my coffee but not any information. Charlie was still flying solo, telling me my best friend and her husband were still away. I’d have to wait until Tuesday for my gossip session. (The deli was closed on Sunday and Monday.) While I was happy that she’d found Mr. Right, I still missed our almost-daily girl chats. I felt a little bereft as Fudge and I walked the rest of the way home.

  Sunday saw me back at my laptop, finishing up the last of my contracted novels. Oh, you didn’t know? I write paranormal romance under a pseudonym, basing a lot of my characters on people I’d met working for Ev. (It was a huge pool of quirky players.) When the first book had been accepted by a publisher, they asked for a total of ten. At that time, I didn’t have much of a life outside work, figured I was good for it, so signed on. I hadn’t anticipated turning into a witch who needed to study so I was frantic at times, trying to work, study, and write to fulfill my contractual obligation.

  Late in the afternoon, I typed The End and heaved a sigh of relief. Oh, I wasn’t done by a long shot – this was just the first draft. But I could see the light at the end of the tunnel – in three months or so when the editing was finished, I’d have more down time. I dreamed of taking a vacation somewhere warm and sunny, sipping fruity cocktails garnished with umbrellas served poolside by handsome cabana boys, and maybe even whittling away at my reading pile.

  “If you go somewhere like that, be sure to find a pet-friendly hotel.”

  “I thought you liked staying at home. Elinda and Marge always do a good job of taking care of you when I go out of town,” I replied in my mind. It had taken me a while to get the hang of thinking to Fudge when we talked instead of out loud like a normal conversation.

  “You are still a fledgling witch who may need my assistance. Although I am with you wherever you go, contact is easiest and stronger when we are near each other. I would feel remiss in my duties if you needed me and distance diminished our bond.”

  “Although I’d love to leave this sloppy, wintery weather, it’s not going to happen anytime soon. I still have too many things going on to take a vacation. I’d say I’ll let you know but because you always know what I’m thinking, I won’t have to. But I promise to find someplace I can take you to. Deal?”

  Fudge didn’t reply, just hopped from his supervisory spot on my desk over to the sofa where, after a couple of kneads and turns, he settled down for another nap. I followed…Sunday afternoons were made for napping.

  Chapter Three

  Mid-morning the following Tuesday, I heard the outer office door open. Ev never arrived at work before eleven and my assistant, Sally, didn’t come in until one, so I poked my head out of my office to see who’d arrived.

  “Hi, how may I hel…” I didn’t get the whole sentence out of my mouth before I lost concentration. Standing before me was the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen. Around six feet tall, and I could tell there were six-pack abs and bulging biceps under his exquisitely tailored suit; sharply chiseled features complimented blue-green eyes, reminiscent of the sea; and Spock-type ears peeked out from between strands of thick, straight, glossy black hair long enough to kiss his waist.

  An elf? Ev had told me they didn’t have much to do with other races. What was he doing here?

  “Pull yourself together.”

  “Yeah, no shit. But thanks.” Fudge’s presence in my mind snapped me out of my undying admiration. I cleared my throat.

  “…help you? Sorry, had a catch in my throat.”

  A delicious baritone voice intoned, “My name is Perchaladon. I have an appointment with Evander Angelich for ten in the morning. I am somewhat early.”

  “Not a problem. He should be here shortly. May I offer you coffee or another beverage while you wait?” I moved toward our kitchen in anticipation.

  “If your coffee is organic, I would be pleased to sample it without adulteration. If not, I am content without.”

  Thanks to Gregory (and his Italian friend), our coffee was organic. So, I poured him a cup of coffee, assuming “without adulteration” meant black, and wishing I’d brought my own to refill. He was still standing just inside the door when I returned to the reception area, which earned him a bump in the rear end as Ev barged into the office.

  “What the…oh, sorry. I assume you’re Perchaladon. Come on into my office.” Ev started to roar but his voice immediately modulated when he saw who he’d hit with the door. I handed the coffee to the elf, who glided behind Ev – with a slight crinkle of his nose. I’d heard elves had a keen sense of smell and I could imagine his olfactory receptors being more than a little irritated by Ev’s odor, despite the scented candles burning everywhere but Ev’s office.

  “What did you want to talk to me about?” I heard Ev say as he slammed his office door behind them. Their voices muted to the point I couldn’t hear any more without putting my ear right up to the door, so I went back to my own work.

  An hour later, I heard Ev say, “Thanks for coming. I’ll read everything over and be in touch.” A low murmur was followed by the sound of the outer door closing softly.

  Then his usual roar, “Amy, my office!” It was right around eleven and Ev was ready to pay attention to work. I brought my coffee and notes, sat in my usual seat and got right to business.

  “What did an elf want to see you about?”

  “An investment. Sounds good but I’ll not answer him for a day or so. Don’t want him to think I’m too eager. What’cha got for me?”

  Oh, god. Another investment. “Why would an elf come to you about an investment? You told me they usually stick to their own kind.”

  “We met at Club Tread last night and hit it off. He told me he had an idea for a new company, so I asked him to come here this morning to talk about it.”

  An elf at Club Tread. Although that was a favored watering hole of most non-human species, I’d never heard of an elf going there. This sounded fishy. “May I read the prospectus?” I asked.

  “Sure, here.” He tossed a tome across his desk. It had to be more than five hundred pages and weighed a ton. I’ll admit, my curiosity was piqued. Most prospectuses were fifty pages or less – it didn’t take a novel to present a business idea with as much financial projection as possible without any kind of track record. Without looking at it, I tucked it under my notepad while filling Ev in on what had happened overnight and that morning, what I’d done and what he needed to do.

  When I got back to my desk, although I had other things to do, I glanced at the book and figured out why it was so thick. It wasn’t written on a computer – rather than the standard Times New Roman font, calligraphy graced every page. I’d heard elves didn’t like technology. I guess this just proved it.

  Before getting back to the important stuff, I placed a call to Gregory.

  “Hey,” I said when he answered. “Ev’s looking at another investment but this time it’s through an elf. What’s up with that?”r />
  I could hear the frown in his voice. “Going outside their race isn’t unheard of, it’s just rare. What’s his name? I don’t know many, but I can try asking around to see if anyone knows why he approached Ev. Do you know what it entails?”

  “No, but I got the prospectus to read. I may have Martin take a look at it, too. His name is Perchaladon. It just feels fishy, you know?”

  “It may be legit but there’s no harm in getting Martin’s opinion, too. I will let you know what I find.” Gregory hung up.

  As always, Cassandra brought my lunch at noon. At least this part of our routine hadn’t changed. She got a quick break from the counter and I got a yummy meal without having to leave my desk.

  “Did I see an elf go up the stairs a bit ago?”

  “Yep. Gorgeous, isn’t he?”

  “I only got a glance as he went by our door, but it was show-stopping. I can’t imagine how you managed to say a word without drooling.”

  I paused in the slurping of my soup. “Fudge helped. He’s good at slapping me into coherence. And before you ask, it was about some investment or another. I haven’t had time to look any further into it.”

  “An elf? Investment? I thought they didn’t do business outside their race.”

  “That’s what I thought, too, but apparently it does happen on occasion. Or so Gregory says.”

  “He’d know, wouldn’t he? I gotta go. See you when you drop your dishes later.”

  Not soon enough, it was quitting time. Because I started work really early (brought on by Fudge’s inability to keep from climbing and shredding bedroom-darkening drapes), I got off work early, too. I hauled the prospectus home with me, determined to find out what Ev thought would be a good use of his money – this time.

  After my nap and shared dinner with Fudge, I curled up on the sofa but instead of recreational or magic-type reading, I dug into the opus.