I stepped out of the elevator, still dazed from Aunt Pearl’s confession. I also felt the effects of Christophe’s powerful cocktails. I had lost count of how many I had, though I hadn’t intended to drink a single one. As for Aunt Pearl, I was unsure whether to be scared or angry. I felt a little of both.
I headed across the lobby towards the casino. It wasn’t exactly hard to find with all the flashing lights, bells, and hordes of overweight, middle-aged tourists. Most wore Las Vegas t-shirts and shorts. The contrast between the casual dress and opulent decor jarred my senses.
Of course, casinos turned away no one. Especially not people with money in their pockets, no matter how poorly dressed. And from what I could see, business was booming.
I refocused on my mission: finding a phone to call Tyler to apologize for our missed date. I considered a flight home, but without money and credit cards, that was impossible. At any rate, Aunt Pearl would thwart my efforts. She wanted me at the funeral at any cost and wouldn’t take no for an answer.
I couldn’t locate a lobby phone, and the only hotel equipment with a ring tone were the slot machines. The whole atmosphere jarred my already confused senses. There were no windows or clocks. Without a watch, it was impossible to tell the time of day. Anything that distracted gamblers was considered a no-no.
I headed through the lobby and exited the revolving glass doors onto the street. The sky was slightly overcast, but it had no impact on the heat that already assaulted my air-conditioned skin. I guessed that it was probably still late morning, though I had lost all sense of time.
I stood a few feet to the side of the entrance and took a few moments to get my bearings. I headed towards what looked like a shopping district, hoping to find a mall or a store where I could buy a cheap throwaway cell phone.
Tyler must be wondering why I hadn’t called him after missing our date last night. I had probably blown any chance I ever had with him.
First I would call Tyler, and then I would find a way to get back home. The easiest and fastest mode of travel involved magical intervention, but my magic skills weren’t good enough to muster anything close to teleportation. I seriously doubted that either Mom or Aunt Pearl would help me. At the very least, they would point out my lapsed magic lessons and claim that it served me right.
I debated how much to tell Tyler. I wanted him to understand that I hadn’t just casually canceled our date. Except my kidnapping story sounded simply unbelievable. Telling the truth would only worsen his already bad impression of Aunt Pearl.
Two blocks later I saw no sign of retail stores or anywhere else to buy a cell phone. The only businesses on the strip seemed to be other casinos. My lack of familiarity with Las Vegas meant it could take me a long time to find a phone.
I stood on the corner, uncertain and frustrated on what to do next. Then it dawned on me that I had other options. While my witchcraft talents weren’t adequate to transport myself back to Westwick Corners, I knew basic spellcasting and had conjured up inanimate objects before. Never a cell phone, but it was probably within my abilities. I wished I had at least practiced, so my skills wouldn’t be so rusty.
Instead, I had squandered the very advantage that could have gotten me out of my current situation. While I could blame Aunt Pearl for kidnapping me, the mess I was in was really my fault in the end.
I had only recently decided that my natural talents weren’t cheating at all. In fact, they weren’t talents, since every spell took hours to learn, and a significant amount of practice to keep up my knowledge. I got out of it what I put in. Nothing more, and nothing less.
This epiphany came to me when I made a bet with Aunt Pearl—and lost. Losing the bet had committed me to all seventy-two lessons in her Pearls of Wisdom course at Pearl’s Charm School. The curriculum encompassed everything one needed to become a successful witch. Unfortunately, I had only progressed to lesson three. That meant I was pretty good at getting rid of things, but less successful at conjuring things up.
But I had conjured up a few small things. My results often had unintended consequences, but at least they amounted to something. It was worth a shot.
I massaged my temples as I tried to recall the exact words of the Small Objects spell I had learned in lesson two. Fragments of the spell slowly came back to me as I pictured the words in my mind.
I changed direction and headed back to the hotel. I could practice in my bedroom in the suite without Mom or Aunt Pearl’s knowledge. At least they would be nearby if I ran into trouble.
One, two, three,
Cell phone come to me...
No, that didn’t seem right. My pace slowed to a crawl.
One, two, three,
Cell phone make it be...
A one-word mix-up could have disastrous results, so trial and error wasn’t really an option. If only I had an example to refer to.
I entered the lobby and headed for the elevator. I was so lost in thought that I ran smack into a man’s chest.
A muscular, hard chest.
And stared straight into the intense blue eyes of a man I hadn’t seen in a very long time.