Read Plasma Frequency Magazine: Issue 12 for Free Online

it would be in alignment with the mummy's chest. With four or five hours of daylight left, she had the luxury of moving the glass very slowly and methodically—tilting it one way then another, with long pauses in between—while hoping, sight unseen, to produce a laser-thin pinpoint of fiery light at a favorable spot. Time passed. A lot of time, as she rotated slowly in lockstep with the sun. An occasional tremor in her elevated arm reminded Agatha of her mortality. She began to lose hope. Presently she might also lose the last rays of sunlight and, immediately afterwards, her battle against the stalker's death-dealing proxy.
    Was that the rush of blood through her ears she heard, or was it the faint roar of a fire? Agatha couldn't tell which, at first. Were those dark ashes dropping on the mummy's feet? Yes, without a doubt. The three-thousand-year-old wrappings had finally ignited and soon thereafter a loud whoosh let her know the desiccated corpse within had also burst into flames. A smoke-smudged dagger fell to the ground. Agatha waited until there was nothing left in front of her but a pile of ashes. Only then did she raise her head and break the spell.
    Agatha lowered her arm and sank down on one knee, resting for nearly a minute before slipping the magnifying glass into a deep pocket of her dress. Then, after wiping the perspiration off the back of her neck with a monogrammed lace hankie, she picked up the fallen dagger, got back on her feet and—with a pronounced stoop—walked slowly toward her rental truck.
    As soon as she got back to the shop, Agatha gulped down an analgesic potion, and then set about carefully mixing and brewing—in a glass beaker heated by a Bunsen burner—a potent mixture that included the ingredient she had acquired in the desert at such great cost.
    When she finished, she gave explicit instructions to Mari.
    "Call your stalker and tell him you've changed your mind about having dinner with him."
    "Okay," Mari said. "I sure hope you know what you're doing."
    "Me too."
    Some time later, a vision of feminine loveliness descended the stairs, hesitating every few steps to preen herself. She licked the palms of both hands then used them to sweep back her hair.
    "Come here and let me do your nails," Agatha said.
    ~
    "Have you read this morning's paper?" Mari asked, the next day.
    "No," Agatha replied. "I was busy giving Cat a bath."
    "I thought she cleaned herself."
    “She does, but there are some places in the middle of her back she can't reach."
    "Is that fingernail polish remover?"
    Agatha nodded. "Cat had some nasty residue on her claws that could be harmful if ingested. What's in the paper that's so interesting?" she asked.
    "One of the headlines caught my attention: 'The Smiling Corpse.' The article tells how a man matching the description of my stalker was torn to shreds by a wild animal."
    "Why are you so glum, Mari? If the article is accurate, I'd think that would be a reason for rejoicing on your part."
    "It would be, except the write-up mentions the police found some as-of-yet unidentified human DNA on clothing left at the scene, and the description of the black party dress calls to mind the one that's missing from my closet."
    "Ah! That was a serious oversight on my part. Sorry. Maybe we should consider getting out of town until this whole affair blows over."
    Soon thereafter, Agatha moved her unlicensed practice to a remote location on the edge of an enchanted forest. Marigold Jones went with her.
    They set up shop in a spacious cavern with a humongous main chamber and several smaller antechambers that functioned as waiting rooms. It was thought advisable to keep many of their clients separated from one another.
    Mari served as the receptionist and also filled in, when needed, as a surgical assistant. For example, she held the stepladder steady while Agatha used a broadsword to lance a large boil on the backside of a troll. Later, they both agreed it would have been better for all