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Home›Relationships›Best Witches Issue 11

Best Witches Issue 11

By Marissa Allen
April 15, 2019
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Cursed Book

Issue 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10

We drank until our little hearts wanted to throw up, we couldn’t stand in our flats, and the text on our phones was blurry. Not our best decision, but what happens in a magical club under the bean of Chicago stays in a magical club under the bean of Chicago. Peyton had the foresight to set up a tethering spell to our hotel so we wouldn’t have to try and follow directions to get back, it would just tug us in the right direction. I had the foresight to put a tethering spell on the three of us so we made sure we could find all three of ourselves. We had gotten a hotel close enough to walk, so, all in all, I figured we had been very responsible.

The stumbling, bumbling walk back to the hotel was filled with drunken shanties, laughing much louder than probably acceptable, and a stop at a 24-hour store for water and snacks. I’m not sure how we settled on water, but I’ll take it that we had a guardian witch looking over our shoulder.

We believed we were incredibly put together and quiet coming into the hotel past the witching hour. In hindsight, we were most definitely not being quiet or put together. I might have fallen over an ottoman, Finley, I believe, shushed us all at top volume, and Peyton giggled to herself snacking on the gummy worms already swinging the plastic bag around. I will happily report we made it back to our room without being arrested or kicked out of the hotel.

Getting into the room, we all piled into the same bed, attacking the candy. Luckily, we hadn’t bought anything chocolate to be forgotten and melted into the covers. Peyton handed out a bottle of water to each of us. Resounding in a terrible groaning, and begging to not have to drink, yet we survived and drank the water.

“What happened with the beautiful unicorn you talked to?” Finley slurred.

“Didn’t I already tell you?” I asked.

“Uh, I might not have been listening,” Finley said, beaming her brightest smile at me.

“Oh, okay well.” I thought about it for a moment. “He definitely said something about the dagger. It was either I should get it, or I shouldn’t. It’s all fuzzy now.” I said, holding my head. The room started spinning as I stared at the ceiling. “Nope, gonna be sick,” I said launching myself off the bed and into the bathroom. I felt as if I was on fire.

In the bathroom, the light was like that of a blazing sun. I snapped my fingers, and it turned into a disco ball, which did not help the spinning. So, I snapped again and got a black light, which was much too trippy. So, I snapped again and got a soft, blue light, which was much better. Laying down on the tile floor of the bathroom bathed in the blue light I could finally feel myself calming down.

“False alarm. I’m good!” I called from the bathroom floor. “Yet, I don’t think I’m going to move for a bit.” Curling into a ball, I cursed myself for drinking so much. Cursed myself for tomorrow. Cursed myself for not writing down what Bazo said. We should have just come straight back. I’m not sure how long I lay there, but finally, I was able to get up off the floor wanting nothing more than to sink into bed.

Finley and Peyton were both already asleep, snoring slightly, drooling most definitely. They were curled up together in one of the beds. The most adorable thing I think I had ever seen. I searched around the room for my phone. It was thrown down on top of the book. As I neared, I could feel something in the book tugging at me, pulling me towards it. I lightly touched the cover and was moved to open it. The pages flipped and the light spilled from the book once more.

The images flashed along the pages so quickly my addled brain could hardly recognize them. I saw the book, the dagger, and a woman, but the moving pictures of the book made my head hurt. The image of flames consumed them, reminding me too much of how overheated I had just felt. I slammed the book shut and shook my head. This is not the time for diving into that mess.

I grabbed up my phone, snapped a quick picture of the girls, miraculously remembered to put my phone on the charger and then fell into bed. I couldn’t get the image of the flames out of my head. I waved a hand over the blankets chilling them to try and cool myself down.

A whisper filled my ears as I drifted into a deep sleep. Come for me. Three must be one. Their will be done.

—

I awoke to the clinking of potion mixing. Peyton was already awake and making up a batch her mother’s sure-fire hangover tonic. It smelled like something had died, made you want to puke, but 10 min later you were right as rain. We toasted together, held our noses, and chugged.

“So, what did we decide about the whole Bazo thing?” Peyton asked once we could see straight.

“I remember it was something about the dagger, he warned me about it I think, but it’s all kind of fuzzy,” I said. “I do remember he said the dagger and the book had been watched over by different families for years and my Aunt Edna killed the last of the daggers protectors to get it. Basically, Auntie Edna was a terrible person.” Shrugging, I looked at the girls. “No more excessive drinking after meetings, deal?” They nodded. Something was still tugging at my memory about the night before, but I couldn’t for the life of me put my finger on it. I chewed on my lip and found myself staring at the book. I would remember; eventually, I’m sure I would.

***

Thank you, Sean Eike, for the photo this week.

Tagscursed bookthe beanpotionsmagichotelbest friendswitchesfriendshipclubserialized fictionChicagocursesfictionroad trip
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