How (Not) to Play with Magic (A Cindy Eller Short Story Prequel) (Cindy Eller Snack) by Elizabeth A Reeves

 

    Chapter One
     
     
    “Cindy.” The whisper came from the middle of my best dream—the one where I was holding hands with a man I had not magically turned into a toad by kissing him. We were eating ice cream and talking about bacon.
    It was a really good dream.
    “Go away,” I muttered. “I’m sleeping.”
    “Cindy,” the voice was more insistent.
    “She’s drooling.” A second voice giggled. “What do you think she’s dreaming about?”
    “We could check,” the first one answered.
    I shot up in my bed. “Oh, no you don’t!” I glared at the two shapes standing by my bed, my fifteen-year-old twin sisters. “What are you doing here?” I glanced at my clock and felt my glower intensify. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”
    “Yes, Mother,” the two girls chorused.
    “If my kids end up like you,” I muttered, “I am never having any.”
    “Probably a good idea.” I thought it was Starrie who said that.
    “They’d be half toad anyway,” Rainey pointed out, perching next to me on my bed. “Do you have anything to eat?”
    “Not in my room!” I sighed, rolling my eyes. “Come on, I’ll make something in the kitchen for you. Try not to wake up my roommates, OK? I don’t need to be answering any awkward questions about how you got here.” I paused. “Portal?”
    Rainey, I was pretty sure it was her, shook her dark head. “Transportation spell.”
    I opened my mouth to tell them how dangerous and irresponsible that was, then closed it again. It wasn’t like they were actually going to listen to me.
    Plus, being called ‘mother’ once in a night was more than enough for me.
    I watched them warily from beneath my eyebrows as I made them each a quick brownie sundae. I’d been messing with a new recipe at the bakery and these were my best ones yet.
    They were a real matched pair, identical in a way that only magical twins could be. Both had luxurious manes of ebony-black hair, cut bluntly across their foreheads, and silvery gray eyes. They sported matching nose rings and overly-innocent expressions.
    They must be up to something really bad this time.
    Rainey and Starrie Skye were two of my five half-sisters. My mother had a habit of going through husbands like tissues, which meant that only the twins had the same father. Mother was currently on husband number eleven.
    I quickly whipped up some cream, sugar, and vanilla and sprinkled the whole thing with chocolate shavings. The girls dug into their treat with gusto. As they were both over five seven and willow wand skinny; I wasn’t too worried about them packing on midnight pounds.
    “Spill,” I said, leaning against the counter to stare at them. “I know you’re up to something.”
    Identical shoulders shrugged innocently simultaneously.
    I narrowed my eyes at them. “I wasn’t born yesterday. You better not have dragged me out of bed just because you love my brownies.”
    They exchanged a long look.
    Starrie tossed back her hair and pouted her lips. “We didn’t do anything.”
    I raised an eyebrow.
    “We didn’t… mean to do anything?” Rainey offered in a small voice.
    That was better.
    I waited patiently as they decided how to tell me.
    “We really need your help,” Rainey said.
    “Yeah,” Starrie agreed. “We did something really bad this time.”
    “How bad?” I demanded.
    “Really bad,” they said together.
    “Please,” Rainey said, looking down at her sundae with no appetite. “Don’t let her send us to CROW!”
    I blinked at them. This had to be bad, then. CROW was the Center for the Reformation of Witches. Only the worst magical delinquents were sent there.
    “I can’t promise,” I said slowly, snagging a chocolate curl from Starrie’s sundae, “until you tell me what it is you did that was so bad.”
    “Um,” Starrie said. “OK, I guess we trust you.”
    “I guess,” Rainey echoed.
    “Thanks,” I said dryly. I looked at them pointedly. I was tired! I had to get ready for my job at the