As she listened to Kayla Ann explain her daughter’s dance competition, Mina felt relief that she had adopted cats and not children.

 

“And then they were like, Jemma needs better stage presence, but I was like, the only reason you’re saying that is because she’s short. So can you make Jemma taller?” The blonde woman in a beige sweater set sat on Mina’s green velvet couch, Birkin bag on her lap.

 

“I’m sorry, what?” Mina’s entire living room didn’t cost as much as that bag.

 

“Well, I’m here for a spell to make Jemma grow. She wants this so badly, and it’s so unfair that she was born short.” Kayla Ann wrinkled her perfectly pert nose and rolled her eyes. The expression didn’t reach her Botoxed forehead, but Mina couldn’t judge her for that. She’d probably Botox the hell out of herself, too, if she weren’t a witch.

 

“I can’t really do that,” Mina said carefully. She wanted to say that it was unethical to do a physical spell on a person without their permission, even if that person was your kid. She didn’t say it, though, because she’d lose her only client in her already struggling business.

 

“I thought you could do like any spell,” Kayla Ann huffed. “Tracy Zink said that you were like the best witch in the neighborhood.”

 

I’m the best witch in town, Mina thought, but that didn’t help her make money. Only sucking up to spoiled mommies did that.

 

“I can do a luck spell for you,” Mina said. “And I can do a spell to make Jemma do the best she can possibly do.”

 

“Okay, but can you make her do better than her best?”

 

Mina could not, because that just wasn’t a thing.

 

Instead, she created a small spell jar with rosemary, acorns, and ribbon from Jemma’s toe shoes. She chanted over it, imbuing the jar with the best energy possible. That little dancer would do the best she possibly could, no mistakes, missteps, or stumbles.

 

Kayla Ann seemed pleased and left after giving her three hundred dollars with a fifty-dollar tip. Mina didn’t even know that spell work deserved a tip, but she certainly appreciated it. She’d be able to pay both her electricity and phone bills this month, which would be a nice change of pace.

 

Mina went to the coffee shop down the street to check her website. She had a few sales for candle spells and a request for a hex removal. She was just about to sign off when an appointment request came in.

 

“Oh crap,” Mina said as she read the comments.

 

Three days later, Mina sat in her living room with Geraldine Howell. The woman wore a black Prada sweatsuit that looked like it had never seen a drop of sweat in its short life.

 

“What I’m looking for is a little something to give Juniper Rose a leg up, so to speak.”

 

“For the dance competition?” An anxious feeling stretched across her stomach like a pair of too-tight Spanx.

 

“It’s more than just a competition,” Geraldine said. “It’s a trial for a spot on the University dance squad. It’s impossible to get on. You have to like, actually earn it.” She said the phrase like she had never actually earned anything in her life.

 

“That’s a lot of pressure,” Mina said carefully. “How has Juniper Rose been doing in her rehearsals?”

 

“She’s been doing okay,” the thin woman said. “Her coaches have been very positive, but I want to make sure she has all of the advantages I can possibly give me. I mean her.” She blushed slightly at the mistake.

 

“I can make her a luck spell,” Mina said, choosing to ignore the slip. “And a spell for Juniper Rose to do the best she possibly can.”

 

“I suppose that will have to do,” Geraldine sighed and reached into her Louis Vuitton. “Do you need a cheque, or can I just Venmo you?”

 

Mina wondered about the ethics of helping two opposing parties. It wasn’t something her mentor had gone over during her apprenticeship. There were a few rules to magic. Something can’t come from nothing. Dark magic leads to dark minds. And magic done for selfish purposes would always backfire. It was why she didn’t just spell herself a successful business, and why she was always broke.

 

In the histories, there were stories of witches who had tried to play both sides. They always came to bad ends, but those witches had lived thousands of years ago, and were probably morality tales meant to scare people anyway.

 

The day of the competition, Mina found herself unexplainably anxious. It wasn’t as if she was going to get paid more if one of them won. Still, she found herself searching for the competition online, wondering if she could watch it from her laptop. She’d have to go to the coffee shop, as she searched, her phone blinked. Geraldine Howell’s attractive face filled the screen. With a churning stomach, Mina picked it up.

 

“Mina, we need you here. We’re having an anxiety attack,” Geraldine said as a greeting.

 

“There are rules about using magic during competition,” Mina said, thinking more about Kayla Ann than the high school athletics board, or whatever it was.

 

“I’m not asking you to hex anyone,” Geraldine said. “I checked. It’s fine.”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“I’ll pay you a thousand dollars.”

 

“I’ll be there.”

 

The high school gym was packed with bedazzled, glittering girls, their over-makeupped mothers, and even small children, mostly girls, in frilly dresses. One tween ran past in a leopard print leotard and matching tutu, her face painted with cat whiskers that twitched so realistically that they could only have been done with magic.

 

Mina found Geraldine among the many heads of the bustling crowd. The woman had taken up three rows of already packed bleachers and gave a frantic wave. Mina hefted her oversized tote bag of magical implements and squeezed through the crowd to her client.

 

“Thank the gods you’re here,” Geraldine breathed. “We’re so anxious that we can barely breathe.”

 

A teenage version of Geraldine, same large brown eyes and black hair, stood before her. The girl’s breath came in short, panicked sips.

 

“Let’s find a quieter place,” Mina said. As Geraldine moved to join them, Mina stopped her, shoving a sprig of sage into the woman’s thin hands.

 

“I need you to stay here and prepare the space. Don’t burn it, crumple it, and let it fall while repeating the words. Safe space, safe students, safe results.” At the most, it would reduce the chance of injuries, but more likely, it would do nothing.

 

Geraldine nodded and began her work. Mina had planned it on the way over to keep her busy. She took Juniper Rose into a slightly quieter hallway and found a corner. She handed the trembling girl a bottle of water and made her drink.

 

“I can’t fail,” Juniper Rose wailed. “This is my entire life. If I don’t win, I might not get into MU. Then I won’t be able to join my mom’s sorority, and my life will be over.”

 

“Girl, you are catastrophizing. Take this.” It probably wasn’t the way to talk to a child, but she didn’t really know much about kids. She poured a handful of dried chamomile flowers into the girl’s outstretched hands. “Rub them together and breathe in for five seconds, then breathe out.” It was less a spell and more breathing exercises, but it worked, and within minutes, the shaking had retreated, and Juniper Rose gave her a soft smile.

 

“Ready?” Mina asked.

 

The girl nodded slowly, and Mina smiled. Juniper Rose walked off as Mina repacked her jars and tools.

 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Kayla Ann’s loud voice sounded over the din. Mina cringed and stood in the shorter woman’s enraged face.

 

“Hello, Kayla Ann. How’s Jemma doing?”

 

“I saw you with Juniper Rose,” the woman shrieked. “You can’t help Jemma’s competition. That’s not right. What spell did you do to her?” Kayla Ann’s lipstick had faded on the edges of her mouth so that she looked like she had a cupid’s bow lip in the center of her face.

 

“Client-witch privilege keeps me from sharing that information,” Mina said, thankful for the professional guidelines, though they wouldn’t hold up in a court of law.

 

“I demand Jemma get the same treatment,” Kayla Ann said. “I don’t care what it costs. I’ll pay double.”

 

Mina looked at the Birkin bag, slung over the woman’s arm, and nodded. “Where’s Jemma?”

 

Standing on the side of the dance floor, Jemma looked deadly calm and had the focus of an Olympic athlete on game day. She did not need calming breaths or chamomile. She was shockingly short, but Mina couldn’t do anything about that.

 

“How are you feeling?” Mina asked.

 

“Ready,” the girl said with a certainty that Mina found a little terrifying. She reached into her bag, past Kayla Ann’s large cheque, and found her jar of powdered ginger.

 

“Close your eyes,” Mina ordered, and Jemma did as she was told. Mina poured a pile of the powder into her hand and then blew it on the little girl’s head. They then practiced doing space-taking exercises by putting their arms above their heads and widening their chests. Mina imagined the girl stood a little taller after the session, but it was probably wishful thinking. Jemma rushed off, Kayla Ann in her wake, and Mina again started packing up her things.

 

“Excuse me,” a stunningly attractive silver-haired woman said. “I noticed your spells, and I was wondering if you are available for additional work.” She gestured to a group of girls and women standing down the hallway.

 

“Let me text you my rates,” Mina said. “I take Venmo, PayPal, and OrangePay.”

 

Mina did a good luck spell for the dance troupe and then a safety spell for another. She was feeling a little dizzy and definitely pushing her magic to the limit, but it was too lucrative to stop. She was just about to set up payments for a third group when a man with a large and official-looking badge approached.

 

“Ma’am,” he said, a disapproving look on his wrinkled face. “I’m going to have to ask you to come with me.” Mina followed the man down the hall, past a dizzying number of blue lockers, to the principal’s office. He installed her on a couch in what seemed to be the waiting room.

 

“Am I in trouble?” Mina asked, an anxious twinge slicing through her chest. The coven could take her magic or fine her if they wanted. She couldn’t imagine her life without it.

 

“There’s no rule against white magic,” the official told her. “It’s not even possible. These children are covered with luck, prosperity, and safety spells. That said, we can’t have you doing magic for the highest bidder in the hallway of the competition. How fair does it look for all of the teams that can’t afford the magic?”

 

Mina had felt the spells on the privileged children as she had entered. There were so many, she couldn’t even count. Some she had never even seen before.

 

“It’s not like they aren’t getting the magic beforehand,” Mina pointed out. “The richer teams and competitors clearly have more firepower.” She hated the unfairness, but couldn’t really blame the parents. It was easy to call for fairness, but to do it at your children’s expense? She would plaster her kids with the best spells she could, too.

​

“Yes, we know that,” The man said with a wave of his hand. “But how does it look?”

​

Mina nodded. The pretense of fairness was broken if Mina was shilling her skills for all to see. It didn’t look fair, and that was the heart of it. Things always had to look fair, even if they weren’t. It wasn’t the first time she had run into inequity in her magical business, and though she hated it, was she supposed to start handing out magic for free? How would she pay rent?

​

The man left, confiscating her bag for the remainder of the competition. He promised to give it back at the end, though he did give Mina her phone. Mina responded to Geraldine’s frantic text, coaching her to take deep breaths. She answered Kayla Ann’s messages about Jemma, reassuring her the determined girl would be fine.

 

In the end, Mina slept through the competition. Seated on the cozy couch, beneath inspirational posters and institutional lights, Mina dozed for several hours. Doing so much magic had exhausted her, and so when the man finally returned with her bag, she accepted it sleepily and went to her car in the dark parking lot.

 

Checking her messages, both women had thanked her for all of her help. The results of the competition wouldn’t be available for several days, but both mothers were sure their offspring had gotten the single spot. Mina was relieved, more than pleased. She had avoided disaster and somehow managed to play both sides. She was significantly richer than she had been before the competition and might even be able to reinstall the internet at her apartment. It would be a relief not to have to go to a cafe to get online all the time.

 

~ * ~

 

Two weeks later, Mina was working on her couch and listening to local news when a story caught her attention. She grabbed the remote and turned up the volume.

 

“Due to recent events, registered magic practitioners will no longer be allowed on the premises during high school dance competitions, musical recitals, drama or debate competitions,” a severe-looking newswoman announced.

 

Mina cringed, glad they hadn’t named her by name. She had gotten a sternly worded letter from her coven leader about the incident, but hadn’t been fined or censured. Mina knew why. Her covenmates' magic had been all over those children also, and she knew no one wanted to ruin that revenue stream.

 

“In other news, two local dancers will be representing our little town on the MU dance team. For the first time ever, MU is taking two students to join their national champion dance team. Local Seniors Jemma Yule and Juniper Rose Howell will both be joining as incoming freshmen dancers. Congratulations to the girls and Go Griffins!”

 

Mina choked on her mint tea, grabbing a tissue to wipe up her sweater. Both girls had won? She couldn’t have had a better outcome if she had tried. Whoever said playing both sides didn’t pay was full of dragon crap. Mina laughed and went to her website and checked the orders.

 

She had orders for six good luck candle spells, two new car blessings, and a single new puppy health spell. She also had three requests for consultations, one of which definitely mentioned a dancer as the recipient.

 

Mina leaned back and grinned. She would be able to pay off her credit card bill and maybe even be able to save a bit of money for the new car she desperately needed. Her old Civic was being held together by healing magic and prayers, and soon, no repair magic in the world would fix it.

 

Mina’s gray tomcat, Dusty, jumped on the couch and pushed his soft, wide head against her elbow. Mina set her laptop on the coffee table and scooped the friendly cat up and buried her face in the thick fur of his neck.

 

“You’re getting the fancy wet food tonight,” Mina said as she stroked her fur-baby’s back. Dusty purred and snuggled into her worn wool sweater. Mina wondered what she would do for her cats. Would she pay thousands of dollars to protect them and make them happy? Probably. She had done plenty of her own spells on them, but her time and magic were free.

 

Jealous of the attention, her orange cat, Jeff, jumped on the couch and began pawing at them. Mina stroked the cat with her other hand, scratching behind his ears. The cats teased each other, and she laughed, glad for dance moms and their children. Outside her window, the sun set in pretty orange streaks in the autumn sky, shining its cozy light on the yellow trees of the poplar that stood outside her large apartment window.

​