Chapter 16: Emily Wren
It was early morning, Paragon time when Waxine entered Wicus' chamber with Plug directing a heavy breakfast tray.
"Have a care with that cabinet," instructed Waxine rather crossly. Unhappiness with her attachment was clear in her tone.
Wicus had heard the Luminary coming down the hall. From the gist of the one sided conversation, he deduced that Plug had nearly bashed the salver into the wall twice already.
"Focus...or you're going to drop Wicus' breakfast," she chided.
"What's wrong?" asked Wicus. Standing next to a large open portal, he had to look around it to see what was going on.
"Something is off with Plug," announced Waxine with a puzzled expression. “Our quasi-psychic link seems to be on the fritz.”
Plug spun its pronged-face to Wicus and nodded in agreement.
Unfortunately the movement took its attention away from the task at hand with disastrous affects.
"Watch the tray!" Waxine shrieked.
The warning came too late as the platter crashed into the wall, sending its contents spilling downward.
Plug whipped back around barely in time as it froze in place.
"Good save," said Waxine in relief.
Plug looked up at her and shook its prongs No, then glanced over at Wicus in apparent gratitude.
Wicus had saved the tray.
His hand was in midair palm facing forward, fingers extended upward. The food stopped mid-fall. While not hungry at the moment, he wasn’t about to waste a good meal.
Whipping his hand around the food began to pile neatly back on the dishes which then floated in a tidy procession over to the table beside him, landing safely on the flat surface.
Waxine gave Plug a look.
Seeing it, the corners of Wicus’ mouth twitched with suppressed mirth, he didn’t need to be part of their psychic link to read what it meant. She was really not happy.
Plug plainly avoided hearing what else she might have to say by wrapping its cord around her base and taking a nap.
She made a face.
From the glower on it Wicus knew that she planned to continue their silent chat later. The way the candelabra’s flames were sizzling, it promised to be quite heated. The corner of his mouth twitched again.
Noting the portal, she asked Wicus, "Going or Viewing?"
"Viewing."
"Anyone I know?" she asked floating to his side.
"Perhaps."
The scene on the portal made it look like a door-sized flat screen TV but the unfolding action was real.
"She's getting a hair cut."
The magical window was open to the interior of a salon and the droning of a hair dryer could be heard. He watched a woman use it and a big round brush on Emily Wren's dark brown hair for several minutes, taming the curly long locks, making them smooth.