Tripping Magic

4.2

Anubis kept out of my way as I scrambled to open a can of food for his bowl before leaving out the back door. I tossed Mira’s key under the pot of geraniums and jogged to the Bronco. From the glove box, I yanked out a street map of the area and looked for somewhere to unfold it. The truck’s hood still glistened with drops of rain, leaving the tailgate as the only viable choice. I smoothed the map out over the narrow grooves in the bedliner.

Unclasping the bracelet, I curled the strand of beads into position around the location of Mira’s house. The colors strobed in a quickened rippling pattern — I hoped it meant that Mira had broken free and was trying to signal me. With eyes closed and both hands flattened against the paper, I charged it with energy and willed the tracking to work.

“Invenio.”

A slow scratch sounded across the paper and a rush of triumph brought a wide smile to my face. I whispered the spell twice more, willing that tiny sound to continue. When I opened my eyes, the bracelet had moved a distance into a patch of woodlands.

“Yes! Thank you!” Plucking up the bracelet, I wrapped it back around my wrist. Excitement and relief rolled through me in equal measure — for once, something was going right. Climbing into the Bronco, I placed the map on the seat next to me and gave it a thankful pat before firing up the engine.

Despite the early hour, the heat quickly climbed, turning the remaining damp into stifling humidity. The breeze blowing into the open window as I drove did nothing to dry the sweat rising my brow. I followed the map, driving the gravel roads towards the access point into the woods. Mud sprayed from the tires as they churned through puddles, the clods hitting the wheel wells with loud, wet splats.

The seasonal route that accessed the field closest to the woods slowed my pace as the muddy soup grew deeper and more difficult to travel through, but the Bronco won the struggle. In the driest spot I could find, I parked in the turn around and hopped out after one last look at the map. Traversing through soybeans would lead me to the edge of the woods. I stuck to the margins to prevent damage to the late spring sprouts.

I kept the sun to my right to travel north, picking my way through the weedy border of the field till I came to the hedgerow into the trees. The sun heated the mud and I felt the wave of damp rise from the sod beneath me. My jeans sucked it up, and turned into heavy, oppressive mat of fabric.

I struggled as I trudged through the underbrush, the mud trying its best to suck off my boots with each step. Stifling and still amongst the trees, tiny flies swarmed around my head, unperturbed without a breeze to keep them at bay. I stepped over the crumbling decay of a fallen branch and paused, tugging at my tee to peel the sweaty fabric from my skin. Fanning myself with it, I swatted at the bugs. If the weather had been more agreeable, the trip through the woods would be a beautiful one with the sounds and scents of the spring day.

Drenched in sweat, I pressed on, wishing I had worn a better choice in clothing and footwear. The wildlife looked on in passing interest as I grunted my way over and through the dead fall from the winter. At least the birds calling overhead made the effort more tolerable.

Spotting a patch of yellow through the saplings, I aimed for it. The mud grabbed at my feet again and I tugged them free, knocking off the growing clumps of soil and debris against a tree. Each footstep squelched in the wet as I kept sight of the yellow and pressed onward.

The swath of color was in a clearing formed by a circle of tall pines. Cautious, I moved towards it. Panic twisted my stomach as I realized it was the clothing of a person lying down. A tumble of dark curls masked her face from view but I knew who it was.

“Mira!”

The fallen pine needles in the copse gave me better footing than the slick mud as I dashed towards her, sliding to a stop before sinking to my knees. Reaching out for her shoulder, I closed my fingers against what should have been flesh, but my hand passed through it, rippling and dispersing the spell.