“Think about it—dreams aren’t accessible when we’re awake.Therefore, we can alter the magic within Max from his subconscious in his astral form.He can then work his way out to expedite undoing this hex.”
Luther shakes his head.“That…that sounds too dangerous.”
“Every new, effective hex-breaking maneuver requires pushing the envelope, Westbrook.”I huff in impatience.“Do you want Max’s brain to get permanent damage?”
“Of course not, but manipulating his astral form?”
“Think of it as just, like, making him go to sleep temporarily to save him.”
“You’re playing with his inner spirit!That’s crazy risky!”Luther’s voice is rising, and the conflict has my pulse rising.
“Only momentarily!It’s a risk worth taking.Why don’t you trust me, Westbrook?”
“Because why should I?You disappear for years without saying goodbye, you show up as some hex guru, and now you’re talking about moving spirits out of bodies, so we can?”
“Do it.”We turn to see the chief, standing by the doorway.He strides up to Max and puts his hand out.“A temporary sleep spell, then we pull his spirit out.”
“But what if we damage his spirit self?”Luther asks.
“This hex is worse.And every moment he’s incapacitated, rogue wizards are out there doing who-knows-what,” the chief says.
“But we don’t know for sure this will undo the hex!”
The chief ignores Luther and turns to me.“Let’s do it.”
I nod, and we put our hands on Max.I allow the magic to flow freely out of my palm, a shower of blue lights, over his face.In moments, Max’s eyes close; step one, complete.
Now, the scary part.I shut my eyes and reach into his subconscious.I find the essence of my old friend and pull him out.His astral form floats halfway above his body, and the three of us gaze at it.Next, I inject magic into his spirit, a charge to allow him to undo the hex on his own.Finally, we send his spirit back down.I’d be much more nervous about this admittedly experimental maneuver if I didn’t have two other expert wizards by my side.
“The moment of truth,” I murmur.
Max gradually blinks his eyes open, and I hold my breath.He glances at Luther, then me.
“Ta…Taz?Is that you, mate?”he asks with a scratchy tone.
Joy bubbles out of my chest with a laugh.“Good to see you, mate.”
Chief Tuttle and Luther gasp, and I tap Max’s shoulder.
“What happened?”he asks.
“A lot,” the chief says.“You were hexed.Badly.And now we got questions for you.”
Max beams at me and removes my hand from his shoulder.He nods and looks down at the blanket in his lap.After a beat, he vomits all over the fabric.
Half an hour and one blanket change later, Necia and the nurse practitioner are by Max’s side.He’s slowly sipping ginger ale, and we’re all thrilled he’s not permanently harmed.Mortals have to deal with motion sickness all the time, and having your head spin for two days in a row clearly did a number on him.When Necia pats Max’s hand, I smile and walk away.
I’m casually strolling through the lobby, halfway to my portal, when a voice calls me out.“Devries!”
I turn to catch Luther jogging toward me.It’s an unexpected sight, my old rival chasing after me.Especially now that he’s all grown and studly…
Focus, Taz.
“Yes, Agent Westbrook, how can I help you?”I shoot him a dramatic grin and shove my hands into my pockets.
“I, uh, just wanted to say that uh…” He scratches his head and looks around.Wizards and witches amble about, like it’s a busy train station, and no one is paying attention to us.“You, um…did good.”
I snicker.“An honest-to-goodness compliment from an agent of SPELL?Pinch me, I’m dreaming.”
