Free Muses on the Move by Clea Hantman Page A

had to be real if she knew about Dylan and Colorado. I sat in the chair for another moment, trying to comprehend what all this meant. It was obvious enough, I guess. I had to get to Denver and quick, for Dylan’s “heart’s fate” was in my hands.
    “I said leave,” croaked the old woman. I got up, also dazed, from her chair and went back to our table.
    “She wants to talk to you now, Pocky.”
    “I dunno. She’s kind of freaking me out. You girls look a little wack now, if you ask me.”
    “It’s your turn. We all went—c’mon,” said Era. “Maybe she can tell you where to get turkey and marshmallows. Ask her.”
    Pocky slowly got up and went to her table. He quietly sat down and pulled the wood chair up a bit. He wouldn’t even look at the fortune-teller, he was so nervous. The old woman took a slow sip of her teaand then slammed her cup down on the saucer. She waved a single finger over the cup and then, as she peered inside, her eyes went wild with fire. She was reading Pocky’s tea leaves—an ancient, ancient art.
    “You, young man, have a wonderful future ahead of you, magnificent!”
    Pocky finally relaxed, sat back in the chair, looked back toward us, and smiled.
    “But there is a small hitch!” Her voice was sharp and loud and almost hurt the inside of my head. “You have a hex upon you, a very dangerous hex, and it must be vanquished before you may receive all the wondrous good that is awaiting you. Hum.” She pushed the cup aside and pulled a business card out of her bosom. She handed it to Pocky and said, “My sister, the lovely Madame La Rue, specializes in hex removal. Hum. You see her at once. She is in New Orleans, on Old Chartres Street. It is imperative you do this immediately, boy. Hum.”
    Then loudly she said, “Now be gone!”
    Pocky, gripping the card with all his might, stood from the table and walked toward us. “Well, that wasn’t so bad,” he said in a squeaky voice. “But, um, how soon do you think we can be in New Orleans?”
    “But what about New York?” whined Era.
    “And what about my turn to pick?” I cried, before I realized how selfish and stupid that would sound.
    We were all silent for a few minutes. Pocky’s facewas so white, his freckles looked bright orange. He cleared his throat. “I really wanted to see New York, too. And I want you to have a chance to pick, Thalia. But we’re talking about a hex.” He handed me the business card. “Please, Thalia, take this. And don’t lose it. I have nowhere to put it.” All those pockets and none of them actually opened. Silly pants.
    “I’ll put it in my backpack for safekeeping.”
    “New York or no New York, we have to get to New Orleans to remove that hex,” Polly soothed. It was obvious that she believed every word the fortune-teller had said. We all did.
    Suddenly Pocky’s face lit up. “Now, wait, if we chill out here tonight, then leave first thing tomorrow morning, which is Friday morning, we could be in New Orleans by Saturday morning—well, if I drove through the whole day and part of the night. We could visit Madame La Rue as soon as we got there, and then, since New Orleans is at least in the south and somewhat near home, Thalia could pick one more place, of course, provided it’s on the way, but it’s totally doable.”
    We all sat there for a moment totally still because, of course, we knew it wasn’t Thursday at all but Wednesday night. Yes, Pocky’s plan was even more doable than he thought, but no matter what, my plans weren’t. Not unless I used magic. I thought about the fortune-teller’s words, “everything in my power.” I had to see Dylan—his heart depended on it.
    I spoke up. “I don’t think—”
    But Polly interrupted me. “Of course, Pocky. We’ll do whatever we need to do. We owe it to you. I am sure we all agree that your plan will be just fine. Let’s get to the hotel, and then tomorrow it’s off to New Orleans to get this nasty hex removed. All in favor,