AMKent books

Part 6

Me: “So, your dad was a wi…. Practitioner of the occult, must have been a wild childhood?”

Wizard: “Yeah, he never liked my love of fixing things. I used to fix his car with a wrench, but he’d rather cast a spell ya know?”

Me: “Er, sure.”

Wizard: “My mom never understood. She said it was weird. It is forbidden in our circles to marry outside of occult bloodlines, ya know?”

Me: “Of course.”

Wizard: “So, they were a mismatch, but they loved each other, like my dad would always turn slugs in the garden into flowers for her. He could have helped Melanie; he was good, pure blooded, like a Rothschild. Things got sour, though. I was 19, and I got an apprenticeship at the local garage. He couldn’t take the stress after mom left, so he leaked pictures of her spreading her cheeks online, ya know?”

We don’t know.

Me: “Is he out of prison now?”

Wizard: “He gets out in 5 weeks.”

Hopefully, a new man.

Wizard: “I dunno, I don’t think he got raped in the showers.”

That is not even remotely what I meant.

We all stand at the precipice of the silver shimmering wall of light, like a boss battle entrance on that hard game I tried to play. I turn Melanie around to face me, the wizard sighs and walks through the veil, and we both follow. There are giant Lily pads that rotate around in the sky as it rains with dandelion wishes, the sky is velvet pink and blue, rivers stream through the air like clouds. The town ahead is whimsical, pointed tile roofs painted purple, practitioners of the occult walking around in beautiful garb like Joseph’s amazing technicoloured dream coat. No brooms though, or wands, or staffs, seems that was all a lie, there are also symbols engrained into the ground and on the sides of houses.

Wizard: “Still the same old shithole.”

We walk towards the town, and everyone seems very friendly, which I am glad about, but they all do keep looking at Melanie.

Couldn’t one of these people just change me back or something?

Wizard: “Nah, that’s like asking someone to lend you 500 when you see them on the street, we gotta find the motherfucker that did this.”

How is that anything like asking a stranger to lend you £500?

Wizard: “Look, spells are expensive, you don’t just cast that shit unless you have a really good reason. Changing a mushroom into a human is a big cost; it’s up there with making your dick bigger.”

There is a spell for that. Sounds like you are speaking from experience.

Wizard: “Yeah, but it gives you like a quarter inch at best, easier just to stretch it.”

Me: “Ok, how are we going to find who did this? Is there some kind of magical trail?”

Wizard: “There is a signature on it, like DNA, like when you bust a nut on something. We gotta go and find someone who can analyze it.”

You could have just said fingerprint, you know what, I don’t even care, just find the person who bust a magical nut on me.

The wizard knocks on a door, which is large like one that belongs to a barnyard, and a slender old man and his dog answer. He takes a long look at us all and nods, ushering us in. The dog nods, also, and now I am wondering if the dog can talk.