Yeah?
Don’t die, OK? I refuse to have the next death in the paper be my little sister’s.
I’ll try.
Most of the spells Kitty sent me were useless: a love potion, something to make your hair grow, a recipe for tarts... What? Revenge? No. Night vision... That may be helpful. Transformation... definitely helpful.
The transformation spell would make me look like someone else for up to four hours. I’d need something with the DNA of the person I wanted to look like. If I looked like the manager or a police officer, I’d have an excuse to question people.
I had no idea how to get Brig’s DNA. It had to be all around the hotel, but even if I did find it, imitating him in the same building would be risky. But Detective Ortho might work. She was the only person drinking a diet cola in the lounge, at least that I remembered. If I could just find that can.
I brought along the spell and my emergency magic supply kit, and headed back to the main lodge. As discreetly as possible, I walked to the recycling bin next to the vending machine and located the soda cans. Thank goodness the bin didn’t have a big fancy lid.
Unfortunately, near the top, sat two of the same diet soda cans and no way of knowing which was Detective Ortho’s. I dropped a few quarters into the vending machine, and when I bent over to get my drink, I grabbed the two cans from the recycling bin and slipped them into my bag.
In the bathroom, I sat on the counter and leaned my head back against the mirror. Before I performed the spell, I’d need a plan. I had to find out what room Arleen York was staying in so I could scope it out.
I always kept a few emergency magical supplies with me... kind of like a first-aid kit forwitches. In my sadly sparse kit, I had a vial of salt, a candle, a lighter, and chalk. It wasn’t much. I tried never to go overboard, because we received repeated warnings in church against using magic selfishly. Yes, we were witches who went to church. Why not? But a little transformation spell was hardly dark magic. So, there shouldn’t be any negative effects.
I locked the bathroom door to avoid interruptions. On the slate countertop, I drew the symbol of arrows toward me and the soda can. I placed the candle in the middle of the arrows, lit it, and touched the top of the can that Detective Ortho would’ve drunk from to the flame and whispered, “Transformus.”
This spell was so obvious, a preschooler could’ve done it. But I still hated spells that affected my appearance because they made my skin crawl. It itched so fiercely, I wanted to scream. But the pain meant the spell was working. I clenched my jaw shut. From the bottom of my feet to the tip of my nose, I wanted to scratch away the prickling sensation. Thankfully, within a minute, it settled down.
I looked in the mirror. Unfortunately, I’d used the wrong can. I was not Detective Ortho. However, I was the next best thing. I resembled the receptionist, Ginny,down to her mustard-colored sweater. She’d get around the hotel even better than the detective. But was still in the lobby, and seeing a duplicate of herself could be problematic. Calling Brig and explaining everything was an option, but I didn’t know if he knew about magic. Giving up on Ginny’s form and trying the second soda can was also an option, but who knew if that can really had the detective’s DNA on it. Now, if Ginny got called home for some reason... maybe...
It was worth a shot. I searched for the lodge’s number on my phone and called. After a few rings, Ginny, answered, “Sky Powder Lodge, Ginny speaking.”
I did my best to disguise my voice. “Ginny, hello. I’m Brig’s assistant, uh... Violet. He asked me to inform you that since there is such a big storm rolling in, you can leave a little early for safety. He wants anyone who has to drive home in the next twelve hours to go home now. I’ll take care of reception for you.”
“Violet?” Ginny didn’t believe me. “Why don’t I know you?”
“I just started. Maybe you don’t remember. During the wedding earlier this evening, Brig introduced me. You seemed distracted.” That definitely didn’thappen, and I felt terrible for gaslighting her—I did have a conscience, after all.
“Oh, during the wedding tonight? I might remember. Were you the one with the dark brown hair?” Ginny asked.
I couldn’t believe my luck.
“Yes, that’s me. So you feel free to go, and I’ll take care of things for the next few hours. Thank you for your dedicated service.” My stomach clenched. No one would buy such a blatant lie.
“Well, okay then.” Ginny agreed.
My jaw dropped. Good thing another storm really was on the weather report. This was too easy.
I peeked out of the bathroom door a few times as Ginny gathered up her things, then as soon as she exited the lodge, I scurried over to the reception station.
Fortunately, the computer system was pretty straightforward. I typed the name Arleen York into the guest registry. She had her own cabin, number 319. Once everything settled, I would go search for clues. But as I started away from the counter, Brig showed up in the reception area.
“Oh, Ginny. Good, I’m glad you’re here. Someone in the breakroom said you were taking off because of the storm rolling in?”
“Oh, no.” I smiled and gulped. “I heard about the storm on the news. But as you can see, I’m still here.”
“Yes.” Brig raised a fluffy white eyebrow at me. “You feeling okay?”
“Right as rain.” I smiled. Did people even use that expression anymore? I’m sure my cheeks were bright red.
“Well, you're right about a big storm rolling in. If you’re worried about your car making it home, I suppose we can figure something out.” Brig’s brow creased, and he rubbed his forehead. “Of course, you can stay here if driving is too dangerous.”
“Oh, no. I’m not worried.” Then I realized what I was committing to. “How long should I stay tonight?”
