“It’s different for many beings, but for all humans, eating food is the easiest way to build a magic reserve. Old shamans taught me the foods that can clog the qi pathways, and so we will be having—”
“Sweet potato,” I groan.
She smiles at me. “A blessing and a burden, isn’t it?”
“Would the answer have been different if I didn’t have your magic?” I ask.
She grins wider. “You’ll never know.”
I force down as much sweet potato as I can muster, then finish it with a glass of water. I’m dying for anything with flavor, like a piece of chocolate, so I stuff one in my pocket for later when Nai Nai isn’t watching. I doubt candy will affect my qi flowthatmuch.
When it’s time to go, I hug Nai Nai tightly, and she hugs me back just as hard.
“Any words of wisdom?” I ask as I release her.
She shakes her head. “You don’t need them.”
The rubber plant whispers something from the corner of the room. We moved it upstairs after Lei attacked the shop, and it’s been generally quiet the last few weeks, but now…
I step closer to the vegetation that’s been a constant pain in my periphery for four years.
“Yeah, you got something to say?” I ask.
Ace grunts in concern. “Jiejie, are you talking to the tree?”
I glance at him over my shoulder. “Yes.”
The rubber plant whispers again, and the dark green leaves tremble. It’s not words, but images. Brown and small. Something I have in my hand. Bitter. Energy. Sweet. Brown and small.
I snort and look at Nai Nai. “You made this plant an addict. It wants coffee grounds.”
“I did not,” she grumbles. “And it’s good for him.”
I chuckle and grab the bag full of dangerous goodies, then toss my car keys to Ace. “You ready to clock some permit hours?”
“Heck, yeah!” he says, snatching the keys from the air.
I want to see Rhazan before I go, just to bask in some of the confidence I know he’ll give me. But he might also give me a firm slap on the ass and tie me to his bed to keep me away from Lei, so not the best idea.
Nai Nai’s power mixes with mine as we drive, allowing me to astral project moments into the future. The pink hues of the world around me vibrate on a strange frequency that hint at the possibility of their uncertain nature. Things like stoplights are steady, but the woman on the sidewalk is blurred, and her dog seems to be split in three different directions at once. It looks like chaos.
As time catches up to me, I watch the dog pick its route—around a tree—wrapping itself up and causing the woman on the phone to yank to a halt. Two variations of her exist in a sliver of time, one where she groans and glares at the dog, waiting for it to unravel from the tree, while the other unwraps the leash herself and continues on her way. The second variant is brighter, stronger, and that’s the path she chooses.
“Incredible,” I murmur as I watch the world and all its choices.
“How far away do you want me to park again?” Ace asks.
I come back into myself and check the map. “At least a quarter mile. I’ll walk the rest of the way and signal you on the phone when it’s go time.”
“Why can’t I just be there?” he asks.
“Because I don’t want you in snatching range,” I say. “Plus, he told me to come alone.”
“I won’t get snatched,” he says. “I’ll drive off, Fast and the Ferocious style.”
“You absolutely will not do that,” I say. “You’re lucky you’re coming at all. The only reason you’re driving is so I can projectahead and look for traps…and because Lei is far too heavy for me to lift on my own.”
He chuffs and looks back to the map on my phone, leading the way. It’s just after ten-thirty and we’re twenty minutes out. I’m hoping we beat them there, because who shows up an hour early to the middle of nowhere?
