“What?” Erith’s eyes narrowed. “What’s going on in that nerdy brain of yours?”
“So there’s this new girl at the gym. She’s at Princeton.”
“Oh fuck… posh bitch,” Erith muttered. Princeton Academy of Arts and Sciences was a private higher education establishment south of Bear Bak, deep in the heart of Muphen Wood; known colloquially as Eroshire Forest due to being the biggest and most expansive forest in the county. Princeton was known for its expansive and VERY expensive education, and was attended only by the very wealthy (or those born to great wealth).
“Guess what she studies?” Erin said as she and her sister walked out onto the patio where Kyle lounged on one of the wooden chairs arranged around the table, casually scratching behind the ear of Vivi, a very large mancoon cat Erith’s parents had bought a year back to cheer Erin up. A candle-making kit had been left out, along with several half-finished candles, telling Erith her mother, Avril, had been creating yesterday evening. Good to have hobbies, Erith mused as she sat as near to Kyle as she’d dare, stretching out to stroke Vivi as if that had been her intent all along (although she observed him grinning at her from the corner of her eye, and realised she wasn’t being as sneaky as she’d thought).
“Probably something boring like economics,” Erith said.
“Nope,” Erin replied.
“Business?”
“No,” Kyle said, grinning. Erith tried to ignore the feelings bubbling between her legs.
“Are we going to play twenty guesses?” Erith said, regretting how snappy she sounded.
To her credit, Erin apparently ignored how flustered her sister was getting being in Kyle’s eyesight. “She is studying Eromancy.”
“No way!” Erith said. In her excitement forgetting how nervous she was getting with Kyle beside her. She leaned forward over the table towards her sister. “She can move shit with her mind?!?”
Eromancy was fucking weird: some people had the capability to bend reality during times of heightened emotions, most commonly when having an orgasm (although one or two were recorded fucking shit up on drugs). Despite the unorthodox methods by which eromancers could defy reality they were in high demand all over the globe by both governments, businesses, and extraordinarily wealthy individuals. Princeton, as a place designed to create individuals who would become desired by governments, businesses, and wealthy individuals, had courted a selection of established eromancers to teach their craft.
Even for a body of higher education already notoriously difficult (and expensive) to attend, the course for eromancy had become legendary for being even more difficult to get into, even if you had the talent.
“She can move shit with her mind!” Erin said.
“It’s fucking freaky,” Kyle added. Erith felt her heart skip a beat.
“You’ve seen it?” Erith frowned. “Don’t tell me-”
“Oh God no!” Erin said. “I’m not ready yet to fuck a woman. Especially… her.”
“Same,” Kyle said, causing Erith to actually look at him in surprise. “She fucking terrifies me. No way I’ll stay hard when she could make my head explode any time she wants.”
“Mackenzie apparently mastered some sort of tantric state of mind last summer,” Erin explained. “She’s like always horny-”
“I know that feeling,” Erith muttered without thinking. She immediately regretted it when she heard his snort of laughter, and resumed avoiding looking at Kyle; trying not to let her cheeks turn even redder.
“Same,” Erin said, perhaps trying to save her sister. “But Mackenzie can also move shit with her mind, so I guess it’s not all bad for her.”
“OK, this is all very interesting, and weird, but what has this got to do with me?”
“I made the mistake of describing Mackenzie’s abilities as magic,” Erin said. “Boy did she almost bite my head off correcting me. Big mistake: eromancy is NOT magic. It’s… whatever the fuck it is. So I asked her if eromancy isn’t magic, then what’s the difference between her and Beatrice?”
“The crazy albino who runs that vape shop in town?”
“Yup. Apparently she’s a witch.”
Erith’s mouth hung open. “No… REALLY?!?”
“Really,” Erin said, grinning. “Mackenzie says Beatrice is a witch. A good one, apparently.”
“She looked strained saying that,” Kyle interjected.
“Yeah… I don’t get the beef between those two.”
He shrugged. “Guess witches and eromancers don’t get on.”
“What’s the difference?” Erith said, confused. Wasn’t magic shit the same? It was all weird and made you question what you knew about reality, anyway.
“As Mackenzie describes it,” Erin said, “eromancy is the self affecting outside the self, like moving shit with your mind, but magic is the outside affecting the self… like a curse.”
“That… doesn’t make much sense,” Erith said, annoyed with how her sister’s mind worked.
“Maybe Beatrice can explain it better,” Erin said.
“Good idea,” Erith said. “Let me sort my hair out and we can go ask her.”
Erin raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you have school today?”
“I’ve got a terrible headache, stomach ache, and my period is kicking my arse.”
“You’re just having the worst time,” Erin observed dryly.
*****
“This looks like a shop that curses people,” Erith observed dryly as she accompanied her sister down the shaded narrow path between the type of shops that had small windows and dark interiors, the glass almost obscured by faded posters advertising stock that came out twenty years ago. This part of Coytoss had seen little in the way of the wealth of the city; strangled as it was by landlords who didn’t give a shit, and shop owners who gave even less. There was definitely money laundering going on here, and one dodgy looking nail salon that they passed was most likely operated by UK elements of the Chinese Triad.
Surprisingly, Erith didn’t feel threatened by any of this, nor was she worried that here they were: two hot women wearing low-cut tops and shorts in the warm sun walking down one of the dodgiest streets in the city. While they were probably sleeping during the day, this street was home to members of the Seamsters; the city’s organised crime ring mostly composed of prostitutes.
(Surprisingly, considering how soaked the county was in sex, there was a bustling sex work industry, and many, especially city workers with limited time on their hands, professed to the simplicity of simply paying for sex rather than going out and meeting people.)
There were fewer people you’d want to piss off in Eroshire than the whores, and they didn’t take kindly to any man lifting a finger against a woman on their turf. For that reason alone the Winters walked with an understandable confidence through the dark alley.
“Maybe she cursed you?” Erin said sarcastically.
“What the fuck did I do to her?”
“Let’s ask.” Erin walked through the small door into the One Eye Hosen Serpent, whose faded words on board above the door proclaimed it the ‘best shop for lovers of the mystic arts’. To Erith it seemed that the owner hadn’t updated the signage, or added a lick of paint to the outside of the shop, since it opened in the dark days before the Internet.
With a sigh she followed her sister into the shop’s dark interior, eager for anyone to shed just a glimmer of light on her miserable (and painful for some unfortunate people) situation.
It took Erith a moment to adjust to the sudden change in lighting, during which details of shelves began to appear before her; shelves stuffed with all sorts of strange objects, from orbs of clear material that may or may not be crystal (probably plastic), to glass containers of preserved animals suspended in cloudy fluid that Erith wondered could be an alcoholic solution of some kind. Then there were the selves stuffed full of creepy ornaments, dolls, and stacks of books with covers so dusty and faded Erith wondered if they were in this space before it was the Hosen Serpent. Near the back she could see the illuminated signage of a vape machine, which looked curiously out of place in a shop that seemed like it had crawled out of Diagon Alley.
Erith got a feeling that was the only thing that made money here.
“Well this is very charming,” she muttered aloud.
“Thank you.”
Erith jumped at the voice behind her. Spinning around she was faced with a woman almost as tall as her sister, but whose skin was so pale it made both Erin and Erith look tanned. So pale that Erith could see the veins beating beneath the woman’s skin. Pure white hair was loose around the woman’s long face, framing a pair of eyes so blood red they seemed to glow in the dim light of the shop.
“Hey Beatrice,” Erin said casually.
Beatrice Weatherwick regarded Erith with a bemused grin, and the teen realised she was staring; quickly shutting her mouth, Erith composed what she hoped was a warm smile at the albino woman.
“Hey Erin, sorry but I’m still out of strawberry sundae refills,” Beatrice said, then regarded Erith. “Now this clone of yours must be your famous sister. Erith, I presume?” The albino woman held out a deathly pale hand to Erith. “Pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard so little about you, I’m afraid.”
“Yeah, people are often surprised I exist,” Erith muttered, shaking Beatrice’s hand; surprised by just how warm Beatrice was to the touch, and then felt ashamed at the realisation she thought it would be cold. “So this is a nice place you have here… erm…”
“You can call it creepy if you want,” Beatrice said, coming to stand behind what Erith surmised could be the shop’s till. A large black cat was spread out on the surface, with an expression of content on its face. “I know it’s not exactly the most comfortable of environs.”
report “It’s… got character!” Erith said, with false cheer.
Beatrice smiled. “How wonderfully put,” she said. “So what can I do for you ladies?”
“What do you know about curses?” Erin asked.
“A lot. Is there anything in particular you want to know? Otherwise we could be here all day, and I’d have to charge you for a lesson.” Beatrice’s smile widened just a little mischievously. “I’m quite expensive.”
“Am I cursed?” Erith blurted out. “I mean… I need to know if someone’s placed a curse on me.” Folding her arms she tried to look intimidating, despite the shop’s ambience creeping Erith out.
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