“You bet.” Helen flashed thumbs up.
Lisa left, the wind chimes on the front door tinkling goodbye.
Stare trained on her messenger bag, Helen did a little happy dance. Things were looking up at last, and she’d be remiss not to keep the positivity train chugging. And what better way to do so than to deploy some magic in the name of financial solvency. Helen was powerful now, and she could use that power to secure the stability she longed for.
Her exuberance sagged. Something about her thought about stability felt wrong and off, but she couldn’t pinpoint why. A gross feeling, like she’d drunk dirty water, filled her stomach.
Whatever. Thirty minutes until class, perfect amount of time to get witchy. Anticipation rising to the juiced-up level of someone about to surf for porn, Helen popped the clasps of her messenger bag and tugged forth the grimoire and her crystals. Next up in the chakra sequence was green, color of the heart center. Apropos for saving something she loved. Helen picked up a piece of jade marbled with sable veins, kissed the stone, and placed her little green pal at the front of her mat.
In what had become a routine, a ritual anchored in intuition, she perused the grimoire until a particular page compelled her to stop and notice. One incantation hummed with auspicious meaning:
Abundant blessings, come to me.
Bestowing power, clarity.
What is one, make it double
And give me power to halt all trouble.
Additional directions accompanying the spell evoked the others she’d cast. Use personal talismans and charms to access a trance state. Immediate recognition boosted Helen’s confidence. Spell craft was becoming her thing, a competent area of expertise. Boo-yah, baby.
“Let’s do this.” Her voice echoed off of the walls. She glanced around, the hairs on her neck and arms rising. Had there always been an echo?
Noticing the change in acoustics made her aware of an unseen presence looming in the room, like an invisible being peering at her. Odd. She’d been alone in L&E tons of times and never gotten the creeps.
Shaking off her willies, she followed the instructions. They said to recite the chant twice in quick succession, meditate on the personal talisman for at least thirty seconds, and repeat until a cosmic sign or serendipity announces the magic has worked.
Helen did her thing. Soon, she forgot where she ended and time began. Her body was fluid, a meaningless concept. The studio walls blurred, expanded, contracted. Boundaries crumbled. Veils dropped.
Muscles in Helen’s head strained and stretched, her eyes clicking backward into her skull. She rose to her feet and wandered, drifting through the astral, dreamlike version of her studio. Corridors darkened, temperatures dropping to degrees that bit her skin through flimsy fabric. Something cool, rough, and leathery brushed her ankle.
She glanced to the ground, and a fizzle of chemicals sparked her nerves. At her feet sat a snake as long as her leg and thick as her arm. Brown spots patterned scales the color of jungle leaves. The reptile looked up at her with a sentient, aware expression in beady black eyes. Helen put up her hands but swallowed a shriek.
“Don’t sneak up on a girl wandering the astral plane. It’s worse than waking a sleepwalker. I made that up, but it sounds legit, yeah?” Humor failed to calm. The energy wasn’t right. Had the temperature gotten colder still? She rubbed her arms, teeth chattering.
“I had to stop you here. What you’ve unleashed is getting stronger. Menacing forces are afoot in the universe.” The serpent spoke in Nerissa’s voice.
“The hex? No worries. I’ve got a plan in place to—”
“Not the original hex.” Snake Nerissa tightened into a coil. “The auxiliary you summoned. Stop casting Left Hand spells. The universe has spoken. This path doesn’t suit you, and you do not serve the sisterhood by dipping into the sixth circle.”
“The universe didn’t say to never cast another Left spell. I assumed the repercussions began and ended with the curse.”
“And now you know the danger of such assumptions.”
A wave of shame, thick and hot, crashed over Helen. She managed to stick heavy hands on her hips. “Seems like you gave me just enough rope to hang myself. Why? Do you want me to fail?”
Prickles hit the inside of her nose as a cynical thought surfaced. The old witch dangled something awesome in front on Helen’s face, snatched the prize away, and reprimanded her for reaching for it. Typical, a person with power over Helen sabotaging her.
“This defensive attitude of yours, this persecution complex and chip on your shoulder, will be your undoing.” A forked tongue shot from the serpent crone’s mouth. “I’m trying to help, to talk some sense into you. If you disregard everything else I say, please remember this: the double is getting stronger and more dangerous, and once it joins forces with the original hex? It’s all over for you and your guitar hero.”
Three rhythmic snaps, loud as gunfire, ricocheted in Helen’s ears.
“What’s wrong?” A concerned female voice spoke.
Helen dragged up heavy eyelids. Blurry color swam in her vision. Pins and needles stabbed her feet and toes with their sharp, tiny teeth. She waved at the person in front of her, movements slow and thick as bicycling through sand. “I’m fine. Got lost in a really deep meditation. Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay.” A crouching Stacy came into focus, platinum hair with its black underside piled into a sloppy bun. “I wish my practice was as dedicated as yours. You’re, like, a true guru.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that.” The content of the astral vision seeped into Helen’s consciousness, bringing frustration. But she couldn’t obsess about her encounter with Nerissa. Not when a studio full of students sat before her, yoga mats arranged in a patchwork quilt of colors across the floor.
“I do. I know. Not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’ve been coming here
