Magic's Little Helper by J.S. Morin

Author:J.S. Morin [Morin, J. S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-64355-093-0
Publisher: Magical Scrivener Press

For not having slept the whole night, Tiffany didn’t feel like sleeping. Hours ago, some rebel synapses in her brain had deduced that her dreamlike exploration of the Errand of Mercy had all been real. From there, the news had spread like wildfire, until an entire conscious contingent realized that they weren’t operating her body. Arranging a trip back to her quarters felt like piloting a starship using chopsticks.

Stripping out of her clothes, Tiffany stood in the shower, watching in frustration as the ship’s recycled water hung in droplets, refusing to fall over her.

“Come on. Cut a girl some slack.” When whining failed to persuade the plumbing to return to normal functioning, she gave in to the madness. Scooping water from midair, she splashed her face and rinsed her hair before growing weary of the nonsense.

Donning a bathrobe, she padded barefoot to her mini kitchen. The cold from the floor worked to jar her brain but couldn’t penetrate the layer of gauze wrapped around her thoughts.

A beckoning flick of her finger brought a ceramic mug levitating toward her. Tiffany cracked a wan smile. Written on the side were the words: “Galaxy’s #1 Apprentice.” She’d found both the sentiment and the existence of novelty coffee mugs targeted at wizards totally ridiculous. Yet Esper had assured her that wizards were suckers for that kind of self-aggrandizing schlock.

Effortlessly, the mug hung beneath the nozzle of the coffee maker as Tiffany pressed the red button labeled “Make Coffee” in handwritten black marker. She didn’t have to have a whole conversation with the universe, making small talk and wheedling the outcome she wanted. Her addled brain just showed the universe a clear picture of the result until imagination and reality matched.

Her hands jittered even before she took her first sip.

Objectively, the coffee wasn’t good. But it sure as hell felt good going down.

By her third cup, her thoughts felt like her own again.

“Wow,” she declared aloud. “What a ride.”

From a strictly legal perspective, she probably wasn’t clean. A DNA test or a blood-o-gram or whatever science checked for these sorts of things likely would have judged her to be boiling over with illegal crystals. But it was the way that a holo kept going for a little while after all the action wrapped up, just to ease the audience into the realization that the show was over. Tiffany was watching the ending credits of this trip.

A knock at her door startled Tiffany. She’d have spilled coffee if her mug hadn’t been empty. Without waiting for a response, the door opened, and Esper came in.

“Good. You’re awake.”

“Ish,” Tiffany replied, waggling her mug.

“Get dressed. We’ve reached Colberd Station.”

“Already?”

Esper scowled. “Look. I don’t know where you were yesterday. I’m trying to give you your space. But today’s a workday. We’re scouting the festival venue.” She glanced back at the door, which had shut behind her. “And why is your door all wrinkly?”

The question caught her off guard. Most of what Esper had said was still filtering its way through a topping of goo to reach the processing parts of her brain.

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