Mark Smith, aged eighteen as of six months ago.

“Heads.”

Your free hand flies to your mouth. The word was yours, but you hadn’t meant to say it.

“Flip it,” the Trickster voice echoes in your mind. The coin burns, and your hand begins to move on its own. You speechlessly watch as your hand moves the coin onto your clenched fist, and your thumb flicks it into the air. You let out a gasp as you regain control of your hand, but it is far too late to be of any use.

Time slows, and you can see every revolution of the coin as it flies high into the air and hangs there, reflecting the glowing light of the torches of the dimly lit room.

Like a loud drum, your heart beats in your ears as you watch it return helplessly. And, in a flash, it falls and rolls to the Trickster’s feet. You begin slowly walking backwards.

Your back hits the wall, but you keep pushing your back into it hoping that, by some miracle, you might be able to pass through it and out of this horrible nightmare. The Trickster kneels down to see the result.

“Tails,” he says emotionlessly, and your feet give out. You’re sweating like a pig, your eyes glued to his crouched body.

The Trickster stands up with the Coin in his hand, and tosses it once.

You feel your body start moving against your will. Your feet pull you closer to the Trickster, your knees bend at the circle’s border and your hands move on their own, pulling the small enchanted eraser out of your back pocket. You watch horrified as your hand presses it into the diagram around him, and pulls.

There’s a clean break in the circle.

Magic floods the room. You grasp at your throat trying and failing to breathe, and you feel tears in your eyes.

The pressure vanishes.

You hear the sound of a small object hitting the ground. and look up to see the Trickster gone, and the Coin spinning in the ground making clinking noises against the floor.

Relief washes over you and you breathe in deeply, gulping in air greedily.

It worked; The Trickster did not lie.

You crawl over to the Coin and pick it up. It has a star engraved on one side and a circle on the other. You fall on your back and laugh. You laugh until you’re out of air again, and you feel your tears roll down the sides of your face.

You sit up, and realise how tired you feel.

Great grandfather wasn’t a lunatic thinking he was a wizard like we were told. He was the real thing.

You look around the room. All the words on the walls and the drawings on the ceiling no longer looks like the work of a madman, but someone whose thoughts were on a level beyond your comprehension. You flip the Coin in your hand and catch it.

Not something I ever wanna do again... but it’ll all be worth it if this thing works.

Your thoughts are interrupted someone’s fingers rapping on the door.

“Mark?” It’s your older brother, Avery. “You in there, kid?”

You hated being called that.

“Hold on,” you yell. “I’ll be right there.”

You walk to the door and open it. Avery looks surprised.

“You’re all pale,” he says as he puts the back of his and to your forehead. “Mark, you’re burning up! Ugh! And sweaty as shit! You sick or something?”

Brushing his hand away, you wipe your face with your hands and rub them clean on your T-shirt.

“I’m fine,” you mutter. “It’s just a bit hot.”

Avery’s eyes move over to the room behind you and he frowns.

“I keep telling you, kid,” he says, ignoring your scowl. “That room is bad news. Great granddad was the town lunatic, and people say he and great granduncle were found dead in that room, arms and legs ripped off and everything.”

A shiver runs down your spine. Avery notices, and shakes his head.

“You really need to get in shape,” he says, patting you on the back. “Getting sick so easily, you need to start exercising. No girl will be interested in you if you look so skinny.”

Here we go again.

“You don’t have to worry about me getting a girlfriend,” you reply coldly. “I think we both know that that’s the last thing I need.”

Avery seems to have realised his mistake, and has a guilty expression on his face.

“Mark, I didn’t mean-“

“Forget it, Avery,” you cut him off, not interested in what he has to say. “Now, why were looking for me?”

Avery has a guilty look on his face, and avoids meeting your eyes.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” he says. “Mom told me to let you know.”

“Mhmm.”

“Look, I’ve apolo-“

“I’m over it.”

“I’m sor-” He flinches at your glare.

You let out a sigh. “Let me change my clothes before we go down.”

You’re almost at the stairs at the stairs when you hear Avery speak again.

“You’re not locking the door?”

You pause, then turn around to look at door to the ritual room.

“No need,” you say quietly.

“Didja manage to summon a sexy witch or something?” Avery grins.

You groan and roll your eyes, but smile in spite of yourself.

“She’s the reason I’m all sweaty.”

Avery laughs.