The woman waved her hands again, and the image changed. The heatmap was gone, replaced by a full-color picture of Jon’s bedroom, empty. Then Sarah entered, alone.
“That must be yesterday morning when you came over,” Jon mused. “When I was taking a shower.”
Endora nodded and waved her hand to bring up the heat map. Sarah was mostly yellow again. “Already awakened here, too,” Endora squinted her eyes, then turned to Jon while simultaneously pointing at the glass. “What’s that?”
“What’s what?” Jon took a step closer.
“This, right here,” Endora pointed closer, and Jon could suddenly see a very small point of white-hot light. A point that Sarah’s silhouette was approaching, sitting down beside it. “There is something very small in your bedroom that’s radiating an incredible amount of magic.”
“It must be my stone,” he answered. “The stone that my grandfather gave me.”
For a moment, Jon could practically see the thoughts spinning in Endora’s eyes, but then she recomposed herself. “Malachi Gibson’s spirit stone. You’ll have to show that to me later.”
Quickly, everyone’s attention was drawn back to the glass. Sarah’s silhouette had picked up the stone, and a wave of yellow flowed out from it, filling the screen. Then a wave of red. Then purple, Then white. The entire viewing area was pure white for five whole seconds, before fading back to purple, then red, then yellow, finally receding back so that all that could be seen was Sarah’s yellow silhouette, and the stone’s white pinpoint of light.
“A novice mixing her magic with another’s,” Endora said darkly. “This isn’t good. Sarah, do you remember what you were doing when this happened?”
Sarah fumbled, grasping at the memory. “I was talking to myself, I think.”
“About what?”
Sarah furrowed her brow. “About Karyn.”
“Who is Karyn?”
“My best friend,” Jon and Sarah called out in unison, before looking at one another slightly confused.
“She’s supposed to be my best friend,” Jon breathed. “But something happened and she started acting like Sarah’s friend when she was closer to Sarah, and only acted like her real self when she was closer to me. And then–”
Endora cut him off. “Situational Adaptation,” she declared. “Your friend was cursed with situational adaptation. Sarah, tell me exactly what you said in that room yesterday.”
“She had it before Sarah was in my bedroom, though.”
“I see.” Endora waved her hand and the image on the glass cleared again. “Let’s dig deeper.”
