Page 54 of The Hocus Pocus Handbook

With heroic effort, I disregard that provocation and respond levelly: “Thea and I are used to each other now.”

She laughs. “You can say that again.”

Two can play at this game.

“In fact, sometimes I find her company agreeable.”

Zeph angles their head, a speculative look on their unfamiliar features. “Is that so?”

“Mm. She’s like a mermaid in the water.”

Thea chokes, sitting up, now seeming mildly alarmed by what else I might say. Perhaps she’s onto something here, goading people for amusement. This is entertaining. “Er, I wouldn’t go that far.”

I probably wouldn’t have said anything too scandalous, but Rosa steals the opportunity. “We found your friend,” she says to Thea. “And now we’re ready to move on to finding… Wait, who are we looking for again?”

The smile fades from Thea’s eyes, leaving them despondent. “My spouse.”

With what we’ve just done, that reminder stabs me like a knife in the chest.

25

A Spell for Insight and Innovation

Sometimes, we feel trapped. This is a deceptively powerful charm to sharpen mental acuity and help you access ideas that might not have occurred to you otherwise. Not a glorious working or a dramatic one, but there’s power in micromagic too. One never knows how the ebbs of power will flow back toward us. I tend to use this one right before I sleep. My dreaming mind often crafts the most miraculous solutions, and I wake knowing precisely what to do when I was floundering the night before.

One thing I wish I’d known before I reached this age, my gem: It’s fine to admit you don’t know, even if you’re consulted by someone whose opinion matters. There’s no shame in not knowing. And there’s value to be had in seeking a solution together. Shared weight is easier to carry, and nobody is exhausted when they’re helping from their hearts. I was blessed with the gift of you, but nobody provided a how-to guide or an answer key, so I’m doing my best to provide the tools you need to thrive.

This one is best cast right before rest, and go gentle with your spell work. You’ll need:

A small round piece of green tourmaline (substitute green turquoise in a pinch)

Pinches of cinnamon, ginkgo, and mugwort

A sprig of foxglove

Silver chalice

Clean rainwater

This working is a little different; there are multiple steps, so I’ll begin with the simplest. Place the foxglove and the tourmaline (or turquoise) under your pillow. Steep the cinnamon, ginkgo, and mugwort in the chalice. You can warm it with magic, but be patient and take your time. You can’t rush creativity, or the results can be…erratic. You might end up with an obsession to set off on a wild-goose chase instead of the outline of a brilliant notion. Now, I’m no stranger to going off half-cocked, but in magical matters, it’s best to be entirely cocked to avoid unwanted consequences.

Once the components have steeped and the water changes hue, dip your fingers into the liquid and flick them across your pillow, three times in total. The top of the pillow will be misty but not wet. Flip it over so the anointed fabric touches the foxglove and the tourmaline or turquoise. Now prepare for bed as usual, and brace for interesting dreams.

But you’re no stranger to those! Once, you woke in the middle of the night and crept out into the wildlands, desperate to speak to Nerys because you dreamed something bad had happened to her. When I caught up to you, nothing would do but for us to go to her stream and check on her. And while we were there, we saved her from being caught in the backlash of a hex gone awry. Her stream dried to a trickle, and if we hadn’t been there to aid her in breaking that hex, something bad *would* have happened to her.

You’ll never go wrong following your heart, no matter where it leads.

Thea

I’m a terrible person.

Not because I regret what happened between me and Kerboros. But because I don’t.

After reminding Rosa of our quest, I should feel riddled with guilt. The others talk around me, but I can’t focus on the conversation.

Before, if you’d asked me, I wouldn’t have said I was this unreliable. While technically I may not owe loyalty to a contract I signed under duress, I still feel conflicted about my lack of remorse. I’ve lived my entire life trying to prove that I’m not a parasite, and yet despite my intention to protect Da at all costs, I’ve stumbled. Maybe even fallen?

No, I refuse to use that word. I can’t fall in love.