Little Spells

His hand trembled as he held the sealed vial to the window. I watched his face pale in the filtered sunlight as it
illuminated the words on the tiny scroll.

”What is this?” he asked, handing it to me.

He wanted me to lie. My little spells always made him nervous. His slight tremor was enough to give me reason to carefully consider
my response.

”What do you think?” I asked. Great tactic. Answer a question with a question. A few seconds passed.

I put the vial on the floor. Smashed it with my shoe.

”There,” I said. “It’s gone.”