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" "Is that what ye really want? It will cost ye." "Yes!" Walter shouted again, annoyance clearly evident in his voice. "I don't care what it costs. Just make the damn potion." "Ye must pay first." Walter was growing impatient. "Fine, fine," he said abruptly as he pulled his checkbook from his coat pocket. "Just name the price." Madame Ruth did, and Walter paled. He hesitated, his hands visibly shaking with his indecision. He considered his actions carefully, and then decided to act with his heart for once. "All right," he began, "how do I make this out?" "Ye pay cash," Madame Ruth rasped, her eyes gleaming. Apparently, Walter wasn't the only one in the room afflicted with avarice. "You can't be serious," Walter exclaimed. "I don't carry that kind of cash on me. I'd have to go to a bank and..." "Around corner," Madame Ruth interrupted. "Get cash. Potion is ready when ye return." She cackled as Walter flew out the door and up the stairs to the street, then busied herself with gathering. Me.Bone. Tissue. Blood. A conduit.My only prop is the small photograph curved into my palm. My telos. My purpose. I can almost feel it burning an imprint into my hand as I take the remaining tentative steps.Nervousness twists my gut but I swallow it back, even when the air grows heavier against my skin. Something changes as I reach the middle. Energy ripples through me from head to foot, rooting me, almost binding me by its sheer force. I gasp and sink to my knees, the leaves strangely welcoming as counterpoint to my heat, hands clapping to the ground shortly after as I'm pulled to earth by invisible shackles. Fear knots my heart. Perhaps I'm unprepared for this.The power of the place ebbs. Up through my palms, arcing, biceps spasming with electricity that races to my shoulders and radiates down my spine to swirl my hips, before thundering through alabaster thighs to the floor. Over and over, like I've somehow completed a circuit. Plugged into nature.Heat sears my palms. I only.
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