CH. 50 Help! Im Still Hot!
Drew stares into the cracked mirror.
And the mirror stares back with the kind of luminous, ethereal beauty that belongs on forbidden temple murals and illegal romance novels.
Her eyes widen.
Her jaw drops.
Her soul leaves her body.
"NO. NO. NO NO NO-"
She slams both palms on the table.
The beautiful girl in the reflection slams hers, too.
It's still her.
Still gorgeous.
Still horrifying.
"It's almost NOON!" Drew screeches, clutching her cheeks. "NOON! I was supposed to be a swamp hag by now!"
She pats frantically at her face.
Smooth. Soft. Not a wart in sight.
She gasps like she's dying.
"THIS IS AN ABOMINATION!"
Leonardo the baby axolotl blinks owlishly from his tank.
Bloop.
Vivi, Gigi, Lili, Mimi, and Bibi peek down from their rafters, legs twitching in synchronized judgment.
"Don't look at me like that!" Drew yelps. "This is BAD. This is worse than the gargoyle! Worse than hell! Worse than-"
She pauses.
"Okay, maybe not worse than seeing Sorien's muscles up close. But still VERY BAD."
She runs in frantic circles around the cottage.
"Why am I still PRETTY? Am I dying? Is this the final stage of my curse? Is this how witches perish - they get hotter until they combust?!"
Leonardo bubbles disapprovingly.
Drew leans over him. "YES I KNOW I'M OVERREACTING. I HAVE EARNED THIS RIGHT."
She grabs her hair-too silky, too shiny, too traitorous-and paces.
"Okay. Okay. Panicking solves nothing. I need answers. I need stability. I need a bowl of curse-soup. No. No, focus, Drew."
She inhales sharply.
There's only one person who might know why she's... like this.
The old witch.
Her godmother.
The Supreme of the neighboring coven.
Drew shivers.
"I can't just WALK up to her door! What if there's etiquette? What if you have to knock with your left foot or bring a goat or something? Why didn't Aunt Agitha teach me ANY social rules?!"
Vivi taps her head twice.
Right. Right.
She needs to contact her.
She rummages through drawers. Old charms. Rusty runes. One cursed fork. Three haunted spoons. An eyeball in a jar that blinks at her (rude).
Finally, she finds it:
A tiny silver bell.
Her witch-signal.
A gift from Aunt Agitha.
"To use only in emergencies," Agitha had said.
"Only when the world is ending."
"Well," Drew mutters, "my face not mutating at sunrise DEFINITELY qualifies."
She holds the bell up dramatically.
"Okay, handsome face. You forced my hand."
She rings it.
DING.
The sound is too soft. Too delicate. Too magical.
The cottage lights flicker.
The shadows stir.
A cold wind blows through the room despite all the windows being closed.
Leonardo hides under a leaf.
The tarantula sisters scuttle into Drew's hair like a fluffy crown of concern.
Drew lifts the bell again.
"Ohhhh I am so dead."
And then-
A knock at the door.
Slow.
Heavy.
Purposeful.
Drew freezes.
"...Oh Moon. She's here."
She opens the door-
And the Supreme Witch is on the other side, leaning casually on her staff, eyebrows raised.
"Child," the old woman says, scanning Drew from head to toe. "You rang?"
Drew trembles.
"I-"
deep breath
"-am still BEAUTIFUL. And I need help."
The Supreme Witch blinks.
Then sighs, long-suffering.
"Oh no," she murmurs. "It's starting."
Drew squeaks. "WHAT IS STARTING?!"
The witch grabs her arm.
"We must talk. Privately. Before your curse finishes breaking."
Drew gasps.
The tarantulas gasp.
Leonardo bloops.
And the old woman drags Drew into the daylight.