10. Witch, Please!
Witch, Please!
At last, the world stopped spinning, a great relief to Elias, who was three seconds away from spewing his remaining dignity all over his wingtip shoes. Time travel, he’d discovered, was quite like going twelve rounds with champion boxer Jack Dempsey. His stomach lost.
He stumbled a few steps backwards, steadying himself against a lamppost that was decorated with enough twinkling lights to power a small city. When and where the hell am I?
“Welcome to the future, Shaw,” she said, looking slightly too pleased with herself.
“The future.” He spat the words like they tasted of cod liver oil. “Swell. Just swell.”
During his century in the Void, Elias had developed some very firm opinions about progress.
Nothing good happened in the future. He knew this, because each new prisoner in the Void had described a world that was demonstrably worse than the one before.
People got stupider, music got worse, and bit by bit, everyone forgot how to dress and how to behave.
Still, a lecture on the decay of modernity died in his throat as he took his first real look around.
The town square looked like it had been attacked by a pack of rabid Christmas elves with unlimited supplies and absolutely no taste.
It was worse than the most garish carnival midway he’d ever seen.
Signage screamed at him from every storefront: “AUTHENTIC WITCH SOUVENIRS!” and “MAGICAL READINGS! REAL SPELLS!” and “HEX MARKS THE SPOT!” The buildings and trees were draped with more electric lights than a Coney Island arcade.
In his day, holiday decorations meant maybe a wreath on the door and some evergreen boughs.
Now, it looked like the very concept of Christmas had gotten drunk and thrown up all over itself.
“What in the Sam Hill . . .”
Tourists swarmed everywhere like ants on an ice cream cone.
Some wore ill-fitting smocks covered with announcements: “WITCH, PLEASE!” and “MY PARENTS WENT TO WITCHTOWN AND ALL I GOT WAS THIS STUPID SHIRT.” Most everyone carried an accessory Elias couldn’t identify: small rectangular devices they kept pointing at one another.
“This is . . .” he stammered, groping for words. “This is horrific.” He turned to Luna accusingly. “This is the present day you were so eager to get back to?”
“Not at all. This is Oak Haven at its absolute low point, which was December of last year. We missed my present day by about five months.”
A group of teenage girls strolled past wearing what appeared to be black bed sheets and pointed hats, all of them chattering excitedly about “witch energy” and “manifesting their best lives.” One of them was carrying what looked like a perfectly ordinary house cat, except she’d somehow managed to dye its fur purple.
“Poor cat,” Elias said.
“Poor everything. And poor us, because I’m due to show up in town any day now, and I don’t know what it does to the timeline if I’m already here.
” Luna chewed her lower lip, a nervous habit that Elias was beginning to recognize.
“Listen, we should get out of here. My family’s dealing with .
. . well, all of this. It’ll all get resolved.
But if anybody finds me too soon, there could be some very weird temporal complications.
We could create a shift in reality that we can’t repair. ”
Elias tried to focus on her words, but another wave of nausea hit him like a freight train.
Like getting drunk without the fun part.
“Hold up there, sweetheart,” he managed, one hand pressed to his stomach.
“I need a minute, maybe five. Maybe thirty.” Looking desperately for somewhere to sit that wasn’t covered in glitter or suspicious stains, he spotted a bench in the center of the park that looked relatively clean.
A young man already sat there, swinging his foot absently. Elias lurched toward the bench.
Luna followed, quickening her pace and looking increasingly concerned, her eyes darting between Elias and the crowd. “Shaw,” she called after him anxiously, “we should really just—”
“Excuse me, pal,” he said to the stranger, “mind if I . . .”
“Oh, absolutely! Please!” The man gestured enthusiastically. “Plenty of room!”
Elias collapsed onto the bench and immediately felt slightly more human. The nausea was still there, but at least the world had stopped doing barrel rolls.
The stranger looked about thirty, clean-shaven, with a well-fed look that suggested an easy life.
His shaggy, overly feminine haircut was topped with a knit beanie cap.
But what really grabbed Elias’s attention was the hungry gleam in the man’s eyes.
It was a look Elias could recognize in any century.
This wasn’t just any man. This was a mark.
Well, Elias thought, might as well cheer myself up by taking some pigeon for a few bucks.
“Quite a scene, huh?” the stranger remarked, gesturing at the chaos around them. “I’m Ashton, by the way. Ashton Vex.”
“Elias Shaw.” He shook the man’s offered hand, noting the soft palm of someone who’d never done an honest day’s work in his life. “And you’re right, it is quite a scene. What brings you to this magical wonderland?”
Ashton laughed. But the sound was rehearsed, as if pulled from a file cabinet marked Laughs for Various Occasions.
“I’m here doing some research, trying to figure out if this whole witch thing is real.
See, my whole deal is about disrupting legacy industries with innovative platforms that leverage untapped markets.
I’m always looking for the next blue ocean opportunity.
Something scalable that can revolutionize how people interface with traditional service providers. Know what I mean?”
Elias didn’t know, but he nodded sagely. “You’re looking for a sure thing. My kind of man.”
Standing beside him, Luna gave his shoulder a warning shove. He looked up at her face, which clearly said, I know what you’re doing—and don’t do it.
But he ignored her; he needed this. After a century of playing the Most Helpful Fella in the Void, he needed to remember what it felt like to be Elias Shaw, master of the con. Just a little harmless fun to settle both his stomach and his nerves.
“So tell me, Ashton,” he said, settling into an all-too-familiar rhythm, “what kind of returns do you typically see on those blue ocean opportunities? I ask because I’ve got a little proposition that might interest a forward-thinking businessman such as yourself . . .”
“Oh my gods,” Luna groaned.
But Ashton’s face was bright with interest. “I’m listening. What kind of proposition?”
Normally, Elias had an elaborate scheme, well prepared.
This time, he’d have to wing it. He studied the square for inspiration, and his gaze landed on one of the tacky souvenir shops.
“You see this nonsense they’re peddling?
Crystal balls and plastic wands? Pure garbage.
But what if I told you I could show you the real thing? ”
“Yeah?” Ashton’s eyebrows shot up. “Like, actual supernatural phenomena?”
“Kid, I’ve seen things that would make your hair curl.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a quarter—or what he hoped was still a quarter in this godforsaken future hellscape. He held it up between two fingers. “Watch closely.” With a flick of his wrist, Elias made the coin disappear.
“Eh . . . that’s okay,” Ashton said, skepticism clear in his voice. “I mean, I’ve seen magicians before.”
“Oh, please.” Luna’s voice dripped with disdain. “That’s not magic, that’s just manual dexterity.” She shot Elias a look that somehow managed to be both superior and flirtatious, as if daring him to keep up. “This is magic.”
She held up her hand, palm facing the fountain in the center of the square.
The water, which had been flowing in a perfectly normal downward direction, suddenly reversed course, shooting upward in spiraling ribbons that danced through the air before forming the shape of a perfect rose made entirely of crystalline droplets.
Ashton gaped, looking clueless as a goldfish. “Whoa.”
“That’s nothing,” Luna continued. With a small gesture, she made the water-rose bloom and multiply, creating an entire bouquet that hung suspended in the air, each flower spinning slowly and catching the light.
“Holy shit, how’d you do that?”
A stab of competitive irritation shot through him.
Showing off, was she? Well, two can play at that game.
“That’s cute, sweetheart, but watch this.
” He gestured at one of the garish Christmas decorations hanging from a nearby lamppost: a plastic snowman that was slowly rotating while playing what sounded like “Jingle Bells” in a tinny, electronic voice.
With a slight movement of his fingers, Elias changed the snowman’s tune.
Instead of “Jingle Bells,” it began playing a perfect rendition of “Down Hearted Blues.” A group of young people nearby started swing dancing.
“Bah, any toddler can control singing snowmen,” Luna said, but Elias could tell she was fighting a smile.
“Oh really? Well let’s see you do this.” He gestured toward the fountain, and suddenly every droplet of Luna’s water-rose bouquet transformed into tiny, glittering butterflies that fluttered around the square before settling on the shoulders of delighted tourists.
Luna’s eyes narrowed. “Amateur hour.” She pointed at the same fountain, and the water began to rise in an impossible spiral, defying gravity as it climbed higher and higher until it formed a perfect replica of the Statue of Liberty, complete with torch and flowing robes.
The clear water caught the Christmas lights, making Lady Liberty like liquid diamonds.
“Now you’re showing off,” Elias said, but his voice was warm with admiration.
“Says the man who made butterfly confetti.”
Troublingly, Ashton Vex was frantically typing notes into one of those brightly lit pocket rectangles that was apparently required in this misbegotten future.
“This is incredible. Absolutely incredible. The applications are endless: entertainment, productivity, lifestyle . . . Magic as a service! Supernatural solutions delivered on demand!” He stood.
“We’re gonna blitzscale the fuck out of this thing.
Subscription-based apps with supernatural solutions. Uber, but for magic!”
“Wait, what are you—” Luna started, but Vex was hurrying away from the bench.
“Listen, it’s been great. Thanks for the demo. I need to jump on a Zoom with my team. This is going to change everything!” He gabbed into his rectangle as he walked away. “Hey Brad? Yeah, it’s Ashton. Clear my calendar, dude. I’ve seen the future . . .”
Luna and Elias watched in growing horror as Vex disappeared into the crowd, still babbling into his little device.
“Um,” she said after a long pause. “Did we just make a horrible mistake?”
“Applesauce! He’s a rube. What was that he said? He’s zooming? And what does uber even mean, is that German? He’s clearly just a maniac.”
“To be fair, the words Uber and Zoom do have meanings in 2026.”
“In that case, you’re all maniacs.” He waved the problem away. “Listen, I know a chump when I see one, and that kid? Was a chump. A regular four-flusher.”
Luna burst out laughing. “A what?!”
“A four-flusher. A bluffer, a fake. It’s a poker term.”
“Ahhh, okay. I was afraid it was a toilet reference. You’re probably right. And it’s not as if he could actually do anything with that idea. Magic isn’t something you can package up for takeout.”
He nodded. “Believe me, if magic could be sold, I’d have sold it by now.”
They sat in silence, watching a family of tourists pose for photographs next to a sign that read “WELCOME TO WITCHTOWN!”
He frowned. “Is this what witchcraft has become in the twenty-first century? Just a gaudy, commercial pile of balderdash? It is . . . unpleasant.”
“No, no, no. This pile of balderdash is what you magicians tried to turn witches into. Tried and failed, I might add. We defeated you guys and put an end to this whole tourist trap catastrophe. Or, rather, we will defeat you, about a week ago. I mean . . . a week from now? We will have defeated you, a week from now? Time-travel grammar gives me a headache. Point is, this will all be cleaned up soon. You magicians will have lost again, as you always do.”
Elias glared at her, gritting his teeth.
Smug was not a good color on this young woman, adorable as she was otherwise.
“So are you going to get me home to ’26 or what?
Because my partner Vivi is waiting for me there.
We had about a half-dozen grifts running at a half-dozen clip joints and I’d like to get back to them if you don’t mind.
And honestly, if I never see another witch in my life, it’ll be too soon. ”
“I’m eager to be rid of you, trust me. Let’s go see Louise Demain. She’s our local time witch. She’ll know what to do.”
“She can fix this whole time-travel situation? Get each of us back to where we belong?”
“As long as we can talk her into it.”
“Just leave it to me, kid.”
She stood, and gestured that Elias should, too. “C’mon, Gatsby, let’s . . . um, 23 skidoo or whatever it is you people say.”
As they walked along, Elias couldn’t stop himself muttering about all the odd things Vex had said.
“And what did he mean, apps? Subscription apps? Was he talking about food? Because, not for nothing? I ran a subscription restaurant game back in ’22.
Capone and the boys did not appreciate the extra fees. ”
A small shop sat tucked between a store selling “Authentic Witch Crystals” and another advertising “Séances While U Wait.” A towering grandfather clock stood sentinel beside the door, its intricate gears and pendulums gleaming despite the gray December weather.
The weathered sign above the entrance read “TOUT LE TEMPS” in letters that shifted and squirmed whenever they weren’t looking directly at them.
Below that, smaller text proclaimed: “TIMEPIECES REPAIRED—TEMPORAL CONSULTATIONS BY APPOINTMENT ONLY.”
“Louise can see the past, future, and present all at the same time,” Luna whispered as they approached. “I bet she already knows we’re—”
The heavy wooden door swung open and Louise stood in the doorway. Her stare, cold as the space between stars, fixed on the arrivals like teacher gazing at two students who’d just set the chemistry lab on fire.
“Hello, morons.”