course, sir, do not worry about me. I have means to protect myself. Have a good meeting.” I hang up again with nothing else left to say. I pull over and horns blare, but I ignore them as Jean Paul’s text comes through. He sent me the address and a little dancing man. Staring at the phone in confusion, I watch it move for a while. How did he do that? It is fascinating.
Typing out a text with clumsy fingers, I ask as much.
Aska: How did you trap that man in this phone to dance, is it magic?
I wait for a reply, truly concerned my phone is spelled.
Jean Paul: Noooo, it’s an emoji. I will teach you when I see you again, trust me, it’s normal and just part of the technology. LOL.
Frowning even harder, I eye the phone wearily before thumbing out a reply.
Aska: Okay, what is the meaning of the word LOL?
I wait impatiently, waving on disgruntled drivers as they overtake me, their impatience sounding in their horns and angry voices.
Jean Paul: This could be a long conversation. Go to your meeting, sir, and I will explain text speak another time, but LOL means laugh out loud.
What the—
Aska: Fine, but that seems stupid. Why would you laugh out loud and why not just type that? Humans.
Clicking on the address like he said, I watch it boot up a navigation app before an angry, female voice blares through the car.
“Navigating. Make a U-turn if safe to do so.” Placing it back on the dash, I throw it a narrow-eyed look before pulling out and making a U-turn, further angering drivers.
“You will reach your destination in approximately one hour and eleven minutes.”
“Thank you.” I nod at the device but it doesn’t speak again, how rude.
“I will burn you!” I scream at the phone, gripping the wheel hard.
It had been going smoothly, even if the ‘sat nav,’ as Jean Paul called it, woman’s voice did grate on my nerves, but now she is being purposely difficult. Telling me to turn where there are no turns or taking me to the middle of nowhere.
“Your destination is on your left,” she says in that same monotone voice.
“I will eat your soul!” I warn.
“Your destination is on your left.”
Grabbing the phone, I glare at the screen. “You lie to me, phone witch! Now you die!”
I roll down my window and go to throw it out when I stop because there, on my right, is a sign pointing to left saying dock. Oops.
Bringing the phone back in I throw it another narrow-eyed look. “You shall live another day, tiny trapped magician,” I rage, before throwing it over my shoulder into the back.
Turning, I head and follow the signs, gritting my teeth as the woman continues to mock me. “Your destination is on your left.”
“Silence!” I roar, and for once she listens to me as I travel down the twisty road.
“You have reached your destination,” she mocks.
“Make it stop!” I scream, banging on the wheel.
Pulling over to the place it says to park, I reach into the back, grab the phone, and stare at the screen before dialling Jean Paul.
“Sir, did you find it?” he asks straight away.
“The woman you sent through the phone with the directions will not shut up and I thought you would be displeased if I broke this device,” I growl.
I hear him struggling to breathe on the other end. “Jean Paul? Are you being attacked? Are you choking?” I ask, concerned, and he makes a weird high-pitched sound before laughter flows through the phone.
Pulling it away from my ear, I eye it strangely before bringing it back to hear him trying to control himself. “Sir, that’s the sat nav, you just have to click end route,” he chokes out.
“Will that make the tiny magician go away?” I question seriously, and he barks out a laugh again—strange, maybe he is watching a humorous film?
“Yes, sir,” he eventually tells me.
“Okay.” I hang up and eye the screen. I spot the button he mentioned and I press it timidly. The app closes and no more voices come from inside. Sighing in relief, I pocket it.
I look at the dock I have been brought to and roll my eyes. It’s busy and surrounded by humans, only witches would be this bold. Leaving the car, I take my keys with me and walk along the path designated for pedestrians. I have to circle the dock a few times, trying to find it.
A spell cloaks the boat,