Back Door Magic Read Free Page A

down and
motioned for her to follow him to the counter. As she moved
forward, she noticed the shop was empty, save for the repeated,
precise movements of the cleaning objects.
    "Now, I hope you don't mind, but as a thank
you for helping me out last night, I decided to put my own skills
to work for you. I've got all the appliances working—including the
bathroom," he frowned. "And I don't mean to sound tetchy, but you
might want to use some cleaner now and again in there. It was
disgusting."
    Brenda was watching him,
listening to him, but wasn't sure how to respond. Finally, her
brain caught up with her and she said, "I— I healed you? That potion healed
you?"
    Edward stopped at the counter and took the
cup from her shaking hand and set it down. "Yes, yes. Didn't you
look when I showed you? Do you want to see again?" He grabbed at
his shirt.
    "No, no," Brenda raised her hands. "It's
just that—I suck."
    His excited smile transformed into a
confused frown. Edward pulled up his sweater, exposing the empty
area again. "You sucked out the poison?"
    "No—I didn't suck it."
    "Well, I hope not—" He lowered his shirt and
arched his eyebrows at her. "You'd get one hell of a negative
headache if you did that."
    "I sprinkled the—negative headache?"
    "Right—nasty thing, those. Buggers up the
whole positive aura. Pretty much clogs the magic pipes," he frowned
again. "Didn't I say that already? Oh, no—that was sugar wasn't
it?"
    Brenda blinked.
    "But—anyway—you knew what to do. You always
knew what to do. I just took something like last night to give you
that kick in the backside. Well, so to speak."
    "Edward," she held out her hands, palms
down. "What in the hell are you talking about? And where the hell
did you come from? And what," she pointed to his side. "What thing
bit you that badly?"
    "Doubt."
    Pause. Blink. "What?"
    "You asked me what bit me? Doubt. Now that's
a corrupt piece of thought, doubt is. It's the single worst thing
to come out of Pandora's Box. Loads of people thought famine and
disease were the tops—but no—doubt was the worst. I mean, when you
really think about it, if you didn't have doubt, hope might have a
fighting chance. Hope is so strong and pure—and it was the last
thing in the box, did you know that? And if you had hope, you'd
know that positive thinking and confidence can win against famine
and disease, but there's always that—"
    "Edward!"
    He cocked his to the side. "Are you all
right? You're looking a little flustered Brenda."
    She put her hands to the sides of her head.
"Edward—were did you come from?" She was thinking since the bite
question wasn't getting her anywhere, maybe this question
would.
    "Back door."
    Eh? "Edward, there isn't a back door. Not a
real one."
    He glanced in the direction of the
stairwell. "It's over there. Down those steps. Nice door."
    "It opens up to a wall."
    He gave her a lopsided grin and leaned in
close. "Yeah—for those who don't believe in magic."
    Brenda glared at him, and then looked at the
stairway. With a sigh she stalked to the stairs, took them two at a
time, put her hand on the doorknob, and yanked it open.
    Brick wall.
    With a growl she slammed it shut and looked
up at Edward. "See? Brick. Wall. No back door."
    "It's because you have doubt, Brenda. And as
long as you doubt who and what you are, then you'll never get it
open."
    "Oh, this is stupid," Brenda stomped up the
stairs. Edward stepped back, and continued to step back as she
pushed him back to the shelf with the grinning skulls. The duster
cleaning the books moved away, and she could hear the chatter of
dust bunnies. "I can't do magic, Edward."
    He winced. "Please, Brenda. Don’t say that.
Please don't say that."
    He looked so serious she took a step
forward. "Why not."
    "Because when you do—a fairy dies."
    With a sigh she threw up her arms. "Edward,
I'm serious. I suck at magic. I can't do half of what you're doing
right now," and she gestured to all the moving things. "I can't
even