Southern Charms

Escape

Turning to Willow, Ash asked, "Please tell me you inherited Glamouring?"

"Yeah, pretty much everyone in our family gets it."

"Good, I need you to make Rose look like you, and you need to look like Rose."

"How does that help matters?" I spluttered. "You're just putting Willow in the cross hairs of Harmony's witchy finger. Jemina's too."

"Willow can protect herself. You can't."

His statement held no condemnation. He might as well have been commenting on the weather, and for that reason alone, I didn't sharpen my tongue and attack. I couldn't argue against something I knew was true.

If I walked out there as Rose, I was walking out there with a target on my back and no way to escape. There was a very good chance I'd end up sharing Dad's hammock on the porch until Mama talked Harmony into turning me human again. Unless of course, Jemina got to me. I shuddered at the thought.

"So your idea is to just walk out of here? Right in front of them?"

"It's not a bad one," Willow said, biting her lip. She pointed at the witches who were half asleep. "Octavia Young is a Council witch. They'd be crazy to try anything in front of them, and swapping places will buy us time if they try to be clever."

"Considering the state they're in, I very much doubt clever is going to be an option for them."

"Let's do this before I lose my nerve," I said, closing my eyes and waiting for Willow's magic to hit me.

A warm hand engulfed mine and squeezed. I looked down to admire the way Ash's fit with mine, but in an instant it changed. My long, slim fingers shortened, my palm widened, and my olive skin turned honey. I pulled away from Ash and touched the top of my head. Willow's spiky hair pressed into my skin, and I felt dizzy as I peered around the room. Everything was so much harder to reach at this height.

But that wasn't the most disconcerting part about the experience. Short, I could handle- that included the hair and the height- but Willow's magic crawled across my skin, sharp and unsettling, like June Bugs scuttling on my flesh.

"You okay?" Willow asked. Her high pitched voice sounded strange coming from my mouth. "You look like you're going to hurl."

"Let's get out of here," I said, not sure I wasn't going to throw up. Cold sweat prickled along the nape of my neck, and the coffee in my stomach sloshed about in protest.

We exited the cafe at a brisk pace. Ash reached for my hand once more, but I shook my head. To soothe the hurt in his expression, I explained, "What will they think if they see you holding Willow's hand?" What am I supposed to think about you holding my hand?

"Well, you're falling behind," he said, shoving the rejected hand into his pockets.

"That's because I'm working with half the legs!"

"Oh hush," Willow said, looking over her shoulder as she pushed open the door, "if it makes you feel any better, I feel like I'm walking on stilts."

"I thought glamours were only supposed to change how other people saw me, not actually physically change me."

Neither Ash nor Willow were able to provide more information because Harmony and Jemina chose that moment to pounce. Three steps into the parking lot, and we were cornered. 

I hovered behind Ash, doing my best to channel my friend's peculiar brand of confidence- the kind of confidence boosted by the knowledge you could turn someone into a toad. A difficult task for someone who spent her life wondering when, not if, someone was going to decide she looked better sporting warts.