Page 7 of Witch You Would
I got out of the car and grabbed my box of supplies from the trunk. Sam and Ed joined me, each carrying their gear, and togetherwe headed toward the crowd.
“Hey, everyone!” I said. “Just have to set up, and then we’ll get started.”
A few people cheered, and one asked, “What spell are you doing tonight?”
“A little something I like to call: ‘U Jelly, Bro?’” I put the box on a picnic table and started taking things out.
Within minutes, I’d placed camping lanterns around where I would be performing, adding to the camera light and floodlightsand nearly full moon. I slipped a bottle of water into my back pocket, then put my premixed plastic baggie of reagents andanother baggie with the catalyst into a side pocket. Last was the mason jar where I’d combine the ingredients, a small holepunched in the lid to control the initial size of the emanation.
“Let me know when you’re ready, Ed,” Sam yelled, peeking over the monitor of her shoulder-mounted DSLR.
Ed dangled from the top of the nearby swing set, adjusting the wide-angle sport cam he’d clamped to the metal frame. He gaveher a thumbs-up and climbed down, heading for another tripod-mounted DSLR off to the side.
My heart rate sped up like it always did before a performance. I let the stage fright have its moment. The spell would workbecause I’d practiced it three times and triple-checked my reagents. I went over my script in my head again: solid. I smootheddown my mustache with my thumb and forefinger.
A couple more people jumped out of a car in the parking lot, so I gave them time to join the audience. They were cute: a Black woman in an orange uniform polo and a tan brunette wearing a black T-shirt with the Frogtail logo on it. I had one just like it, since I bought a lot of their herbs. They had really nice customer reps. Mine was Greg. And I’d been staring at her chest for like ten solid seconds. Classy.
“Ready Freddy,” I said.
Sam started recording, the camera light flashing into my eyes.
I spread my arms wide and faced the crowd. “Hello, mages!” I boomed. “Welcome to another unforgettable episode of...”
“Mage You Look!” everyone shouted in unison.
“Tonight’s spell,” I continued, “is a request from a subscriber who has a happy memory involving bioluminescent jellyfish.Remember, mages: don’t try this at home.”
I unscrewed the lid of the mason jar and wedged it under my arm, then pulled the bottle of water from my back pocket and pouredit inside. The plastic baggie was next; I dumped the contents into the jar as I rattled off the quantities and how I’d preparedthem. I must have gone too fast, because Ed used theslow downhand motion.
Frogtail Shirt whispered something to her friend. Three people shushed her.
I screwed the lid back on, plugged the hole with my palm, and shook the jar, murmuring an incantation under my breath as Iinfused the mixture with my intention. The water turned inky black; people oohed. I held up the jar to distract them whileI slipped my hand into my pocket and palmed the next reagent.
“And now, the catalyst.” With an exaggerated flick of the wrist, Imade a dried shrimp appear in my hand. “This delicious crustacean helps jellyfish glow.” I pretended to eat it, and everyone laughed.
Except Frogtail. She looked grossed out.
“When I add this shrimp and say the magic word, a cute little glowing jellyfish is going to fly out of the jar.” I dangledthe shrimp above the opening in the jar’s lid, waggling my eyebrows as I looked across the crowd.
Frogtail said something again. Someone hissed at her.
I gathered my energy and intentions and pushed them into the shrimp, which I’d already infused with part of the spell. Magicrippled down my arms, prickling my skin and warming my hands. I dropped the shrimp into the jar, flung my free hand into theair, and yelled, “Presto!”
Everyone went quiet. The inky black water began to glow a pale blue, coalescing into a blob that drifted aimlessly. A tinyjellyfish popped through the hole in the lid, rose a few feet higher, and hovered in place.
“Isn’t this little buddy adorable?” I asked. No one was impressed, of course, but that was the idea.
A few seconds later, my “little buddy” started growing. It went from the size of a marble to a lemon, then a mango, then abasketball, and kept going.
“Uh-oh,” I said. “It’s not supposed to do that.”
The strands of its trailing tentacles dangled like shimmering fishing wire. From the center of its body hung arms like thickribbons with scalloped edges. It was pretty accurate to life, if I said so myself. When it got as big as a giant beach umbrella,I stepped underneath the jellyfish and looked up. “I must have put in too much star anise.”
The crowd chuckled. Time for phase two.
“Thankfully it’s only a residual echo of the real thing, so it doesn’t sting!” I ran my hands along the tentacles, which shiftedlike a beaded curtain, leaving glowing neon streaks on my skin.
And then they reached out and circled my wrists.
