Page 99 of Shroom for Improvement

“Look who finally came crawling back,” Jenny said. “Does it really take two hours to eat three plates of eggs?”

“No, it doesn’t. But I was chatting to John.” I was about to hold out the compass and ask Jenny more questions about it, but I felt the house stiffen. I wasn’t sure how, but it was like it took a sudden inhalation.

“First of all, I just want to say that it was all his idea. I only went along with it because nobody else was showing any interest in me, and he promised me that we’d be helping him. How was I supposed to know humans are allergic to funeral bell mushrooms?”

I paused, my hand closed around the compass. “Surely, the clue is in the name?” And then I shook my head because I did not want to get drawn into a conversation I certainly had no business knowing anything about. “John never mentioned funeral bell mushrooms. He actually gave me this.”

The compass somehow seemed heavier than it did a moment ago in the dining room. I turned it over to look at the distance dial and saw that a tiny key was needed to alter the radius. It was set at three kilometres. I had no desire to make it any wider. I wasn’t a huge fan of hiking, or even walking. It had been engraved with the initialsG.M.V.

“Oh, I haven’t seen one of those in a while,” the house said. Maybe John had been telling the truth then. Maybe they were rare. What else had he been honest about?

“This ritual,” I began.

“Not this again,” whined Jenny.

I ignored its protests. “You can’t tell me what it is, but you can tell me what it’s not. Is that correct?”

“I’ve already said as much.”

“So, is it the lightning magic? I just want to be one hundred percent sure so that I can focus all my energy into practising the right thing.”

Jenny affected another yawn. “It might be.”

“But it’s not the blood offering?”

“No.”

“Nor the dead mouse?”

“No.”

“Nor the singing?”

“No, but I super enjoyed your rendition of ‘When You Are Mine.’ Not as much as Sonny did, though.”

I felt my face flame with heat. “Is it a spell?”

“Nope.”

“An incantation? A chant?”

“Nope, and nuh-uh.”

“Do I already know what it is?”

“Ooooh,” it said. “Curveball question, I like it. Um, yes. Yes, you do.”

“And I know how to do it?”

“You need to work on your aim, but yeah, I guess.”

“So, it is the lightning magic?” I said with anah-ha!flair.

“Honestly, what part of ‘I can’t tell you’ do you not understand?”

That was all I needed to hear. It confirmed everything I needed to know. If the house said no to the singing but not to the lightning strike, it had to be it. Right?

I would keep practising, bettering my aim, as Jenny put it. But I wouldn’t tell Sonny. Not yet. And I knew that was awful of me, like terrible, but I just wanted to spend some time with him.

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