The torture of his transformation had unmanned Andrew; he lay on the wet carpet gasping in relief from the sudden absence of pain. Andrew looked up helplessly at the women grinning down at him and tried to speak, but the oxygen demands of his adult brain were too great for his infant-sized lungs and heart. His vision tunneled down into blackness and he began to pass out. The last thing he heard was the lovely sound of Kyrstyn’s chuckle as she got up to turn on the air-conditioner fan to expel the reek of his transformation before she sat down again. Neither of the women seemed to be worried about his blackout. He never heard Krystyn tell Becky with a housewife’s sigh that she would have to thoroughly shampoo the carpet before the stain that Andrew’s transformation had left on the carpet had a chance to set. Becky had chuckled at Krystyn’s dislike of housework and had told her with a grin that there was always cleanup to do after a major spell. “At least you don’t have to expend any more magickal energies to remove his identity from the records,” she told Krystyn with a smile, “If all you have to do is run your carpet shampooer for a few minutes, you should count yourself lucky! It could be worse, you know. If he hadn’t been a friendless college student with no relatives, you’d have had to use magick to make him an ‘unperson’. You know that magickal operation takes the combined energies of the majority of the Coven two days to effect. If you had to cast the spell by yourself, it could take two weeks!”
A few minutes later, Andrew’s head cleared a bit and looked around the room in confusion. He turned his head to see Kyrstyn pouring herself another cup of coffee while they waited for the transformation to complete itself. She picked up his pants and emptied his pockets, dumping the contents on the coffee table in a small heap.
