Page 14 of Of Poison & Pumpkins
“First, you agree that the item will only impact a Nerg, which is defined as a human without magic.”
She initials next to the line in a scribble as a scuffling sound comes from the bathroom.
“Secondly, you understand that the poison will stop working at the next Ceremony.”
Alexandra signs again, then glances at her watch.
“Third, you are aware that you must keep my identity, location, and terms confidential … other than making one required verbal referral. This means you tell only one other Fuzer about my business and tell them to use the code phrase: ‘I’m here to meet the Purple Princess. The Red King sent me.’”
Her finger whips along my screen, completing the signatures that provide me a fake sense of security. Knowing she’s in a rush, I quickly grab paint from a cabinet and gesture at options on a shelf.
“Which object will your victim be drawn to?”
Without hesitation, she points to a wallet. As usual, I unclasp the paint tin of my near-black purple, a shade almost as dark as a bruised night.
“What did he do to deserve this?”
“Do I have to tell you?” Alexandra’s eyes narrow. “I didn’t sign off on that.”
“Nope, you sure don’t. But sometimes there are resources I can give you to help, depending on what happened.”
With years of practice using this same spell, I dip my finger into the paint and chant the incantation under my breath. Once I feel magic releasing through my fingertip, I dip the wallet into the newly poisoned paint.
She twists the wedding ring on her finger, watching me. “How long does this take?”
“Couple more minutes. I need to cast your revenge intention. What’s your inconvenience of choice? If you want ideas, we could … make all his laundry in the drier stay damp. Or give him the constant urge to have to pee when in meetings, or my personal favorite, have his zipper break on every pair of pants.”
“I want to take away their passion,” she says with an edge meant for a sharp sword. “I want suffering or to make them soulless,” she rambles. “That would be perfect.”
I hold out my hand, my heart rate picking up speed. “Woah, hold on. The person who referred you should’ve told you I only cast mild inconveniences. If you want more intense revenge, you’ll have to find help outside of Oakmar.”
She rolls her ruby stained lips in as she weighs her options. I can almost hear her inner battle trying to decide, but really, I’m her only way forward. My past client definitely did not explain my business correctly.
“Listen, maybe if you give me more information about what happened, about why you’re angry, I can help you choose a meaningful punishment from my selections. Like … if he never puts his plate in the sink, an appropriate curse would be that he’s forced to eat food from his hand for a month.”
“You don’t understand,” Alexandra says, shaking her head. “Everything needs to be taken away.”
My heart hammers faster. “I can’t do that. Pick something else.”
“Fine,” she says, turning her back to me, her voice resigned. “I want him to always feel a few degrees too cold.”
I nod, suspicions creeping under my skin. When my timer beeps, I pull out the stained wallet, dripping magical paint, and whisper the client’s request. It dries within seconds, then I join her side. Her energy has drastically shifted towards something similar to rotting fish corpses floating in oil.
I don’t usually offer this, but something about this woman’s demeanor is calling out for help. “Feel free to visit to talk about any trauma. I bet you have a sister, or best friend, who will listen, but just in case?—”
“No, I won’t be coming back.” Alexandra snatches the wallet from me and stomps towards the open window. “You did nothing.”
My fists clench at my sides but I plaster on my customer service smile, and say, “Uh, thanks for stopping by, good luck and stay safe.”
Once I hear her heels clickety-clack in the alleyway, I press my palms against the window frame and squeeze my eyes shut, counting to release the tension.
One. I breathe in deeply. Who the hell does Alexandra think she is? Breathe out. It’s not like I have to run this side hustle.
Two. Breathe in. Sure, it results in more money, but I’m also providing a helpful service to Fuzers. It’s not as if she has other options out there to serve revenge.
Three. Last deep breath. My body finally relaxes. She should’ve been grateful. Last breath out.
I open my eyes to gaze out the window, where the star-speckled sky sends a sparkling kiss my way. If I win the prize money next month, maybe I can quit being the Poison Princess and solely focus on Palooza.
