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"I saw a horror movie once where these weird plants sort of ate their owners."

  "But those plants didn't give them magic," she said.

  "So it's something else," Kent said. "But I'd be wary. Really wary."

  "Maybe I should throw it out."

  He winced. "And I'd lose Eden."

  "So it seems we're already hooked," she said. "I want youth, and you want me young."

  "Hooked," he said thoughtfully. "Could—?"

  "Could the fruit be bait?" she completed his sentence. "The fisherman casts it out on the water and waits for the fish to bite?"

  "I think it could," he said.

  "But what could anyone with fantastic magic like this want with a nobody like me?" she asked.

  "That is the question," Kent said. "No offense."

  "None taken. I think we'd better answer it. What is worth more than magic?"

  That stumped them both. "It can't be anything bought with money, because with magic you could conjure barrels of gold," he said.

  "Well, let's adjourn until the morrow," she suggested. "Come in early afternoon."

  "Right. I job-hunt in the morning." He departed.

  Edith gazed at the plant. "I wonder whether you are not more trouble than you're worth," she mused. "Yet that magic is tempting."

  She looked at the couch. It was back in its original place. That made her pause. She was sure it had been moved. It had reverted? But her interaction with Kent had been real. They had had phenomenal sex, and a most interesting dialogue. That had not reverted.

  Edith shook her head. It was too much to untangle at the moment. They could tackle such questions tomorrow. Now she wanted to relax. But one image continued to play through her mind as she did her evening chores and turned in. A pretty lure floating on water.

  Kent arrived on schedule next afternoon. "You're just in time," Edith said. "The second bloom is ready. Do you wish to share it?"

  "No. Not this time," he said. "It's not that I don't trust you, but that I don't trust it. I need to know more about it first."

  "Fair enough. You can be the observer. Maybe you will see things I don't." She leaned carefully toward the bloom, then touched it. It exploded, and its purple vapor surrounded her head. This time she breathed deeply, deliberately, taking it in. She felt dizzy.

  Then her head cleared. She looked at Kent. "See anything untoward?"

  "Just a puff of dissipating vapor. You're unchanged."

  "We'll see." She willed herself young again, and felt the immediate shifting of her proportions. Then she threw off the robe. She was nude beneath it, with no clothing or underwear. She had come prepared this time. She turned slowly around before him.

  "Oh, my!" Kent said. "Welcome back, Eden!"

  "You saw me change," she reminded him. "You know I'm the same woman. Still interested?"

  "Yes!" he exclaimed. "I thought it might turn me off, but I've come to terms with it and like you just the way you are now."

  "Then I am yours." She went to him and kissed him. She had thought it would be OK, but there was always that nagging doubt.

  He enfolded her, kissing her avidly, his hands running over her body. Then they adjourned to her bedroom for the grand finale. She loved all of it. This time there was more than one siege, as she guided him to a second effort, teaching him what worked best.

  Then it was time to practice magic. She showed him how she could become invisible, float, fly, conjure, and walk through walls.

  "Awesome," he said. "Can you read my mind?"

  She did. "You're picturing me nude," she said. "Which is pointless, because I am nude."

  "Yes, but can you tell what I want to do with you?"

  "Better than that. I can show you." She projected a picture of him kissing her.

  "And now?" The mental picture showed her turning away. He goosed her. She swung around and slapped his face. All in the image.

  They laughed. "You can read my mind, all right," he said. "Not that there's anything very subtle about it."

  "Well, you're a man." They laughed again, understanding each other perfectly.

  Then they got serious about magic. "How many things can you do at once?"

  "Most of them, I think," she said. She floated through a wall then conjured a pile of golden coins while aloft and made them dance.

  "And you remain young," he said. "You don't have to quit one thing to do another. It's cumulative."

  "It's cumulative," she agreed. "But there is one thing," she said, and told him about how she had moved the couch, but it had reverted. "Yet our tryst did not."

  Kent pondered that. "Our tryst, as you put it, left no physical trace. It exists only in our memories. But the couch was physical."

  "It was physical," she agreed. "Maybe that's the limit: I can do things magically, but they don't stay done. Only their memories."

  "And we can test it now," he said. "Move the couch again." She focused, and the couch lifted a foot high, and moved two feet right.

  It slowly settled in the new location. Kent touched it, verifying that its position had changed. "But wait till the magic ends."

  "That should be within an hour, based on yesterday's experience."

  "Then let's make out again before it fades."

  "A one track mind."

  "You bet. You object?"

  "Not at all." They adjourned to the bedroom again. By the time they were done, she felt the fading.

  This time she covered up but did not flee. They checked the couch. It was back in place. Also, the piled gold coins were gone.

  "So now we know about reversion," Kent said. "Magic is temporary, unfortunately. Yet I wonder whether that can be the whole story."

  "What are you thinking of?" she asked.

  "Well, suppose you conjure a coin, and use it to get a chocolate candy bar from a machine."

  "I love chocolate. I'd eat it." She paused. "Oh. You meant what would happen when the magic faded? Would it still be there?"

  "Exactly. Can we use magic to accomplish something, and have the accomplishment remain after the magic dissipates? Or not?"

  She nodded. "The couch reverted. The gold coins evaporated. But can an action by us really be undone? I find that hard to believe."

  "So do I. But I think we had better check. Because if actions endure, we could conjure gold and buy a house, and keep the house."

  "Instant wealth," she agreed. "From temporary money. That seems like a loophole."

  "So tomorrow I'll sniff the flower, and try it."

  "Wonderful! I'll be the objective party." Then she thought of something. "But I won't become Eden. Unless you can change me."

  "That's another thing," he said. "Can a person with magic change a person without magic? That would be almost scary power."

  "Scary," she agreed. "But intriguing. Promise not to change me into a turkey."

  "I promise. I wouldn't care for sex with a turkey."

  Kent departed, and Edith relaxed. She liked him, liked him a lot. He had navigated the hurdle of seeing her change, and was being really helpful with the exploration of the magic, thinking of things she didn't. She felt more confident with his participation. But that business of the fruit set out for her to find—a planted plant—made her nervous. When would the bill for this fun come due?

  Next afternoon Kent came for the third flower's blooming. This time he was the one who touched it and inhaled the purple vapor.

  Edith saw him stand unsteadily for a moment, reorienting. Then he regained control. He looked at her. "I can do magic!" he said.

  "Yes," she agreed. "Try some routine tricks first, like floating or looking through walls, to be sure you have it pat."

  He nodded. Kent floated up to the ceiling, then flew around the room without wings. He landed and conjured several silver coins. "Wow!"

  "Exhilarating, isn't it," she said. "You should be able to do just about anything you can think of, just by willing it to happen."

  "Yeah. It's great." He peered at the wall, and she knew he
was looking through it. "Oh, my! I see Ms. Tompkins taking a shower."

  "Magic is great for voyeurism," Edith agreed, unconcerned.

  "Yeah. Too bad she's not thinner and younger." He looked away, frowning.

  "That's the problem with the average woman. Not pretty. Now try me," Edith said. Her heart was suddenly pounding. Would this work?

  Kent focused on her. Nothing happened. "You're too complicated," he said. "I can't get the feel of you. I mean, the living tissue."

  "Maybe that makes sense," she said. "We're not doctors or surgeons. Messing with other folks' living bodies could be disastrous."

  "Maybe I can do it by illusion." He focused again. Edith felt nothing, but her dress changed, making her look voluptuous. Well now.

  "You look great," he said. "Just like Eden."

  "But underneath the illusion I'm unchanged," she said. "Can you make it tactile too?"

  "Maybe." More focusing. She still felt no different.

  "There," he said. "May I—touch you? Where it counts? I know you're not Eden."

  "Touch me," she agreed, mightily intrigued. Could illusion really make her seem like Eden when she wasn't? And if so—

  He approached her and took her in his arms. "You look like her, you feel like her." He hesitated, so she kissed him on the mouth.

  "And you kiss like her," he said. "May I—?"

  "Of course." She stood still as he squeezed her bottom, then her breasts. How far?

  He hesitated. "You're her. But I know it's just illusion. I mean, you are her, but—"

  "But I'm old," she finished. "Not the same."

  "Not the same," he agreed. "I'm sorry." Which absolved her of the decision whether to go all the way, this way. She was relieved.

  "I'm just not into older women." He was embarrassed.

  "Kent, I understand," she said." Tomorrow I'll be Eden. She's into you."

  "Yeah. Thanks. Now let's try that chocolate bar experiment."

  Edith was glad to agree. "Conjure some quarters." And they appeared.

  They went out and down the hall where there was a cluster of vending machines. Edith fed one of the conjured coins into one. A chocolate bar dropped down. So far it was working. They returned to her apartment, divided the bar, and ate it. It was delicious.

  "Now we wait," she said. "We have about half an hour to kill."

  "So what do we do to pass the time?"

  "Try doubling your own age."

  Immediately he was a portly man of close to fifty, with his belly popping the buttons of his shirt. "Ugh! I don't like this age."

  Edith laughed. "You will inevitably get there in time. Better take better care of yourself in the interim. Eat less chocolate."

  "I'd better." He reverted to his regular age, and his clothing fit again, with buttons still missing. "I won't do that again."

  "Youth is surely better," she said. "Too bad, as they say, that it is wasted on the young."

  "Yes. I'd like to stay young forever."

  “So what about tomorrow?" she asked.

  "Both inhale?"

  "Sure," he said. "But we'd better work out our agenda so we don't waste magic."

  "I think we've tried just about everything," he said. "What else is there?"

  "Finding out who sent the fruit, and why," she said.

  "You're right. But how? Ask a magic mirror?"

  "Maybe that would work," she said seriously. "Or maybe summon a captive demon."

  "With a pentagram and all," he agreed. "Three days ago that would have seemed like a joke."

  "No joke," she agreed. "Dangerous."

  "Demons are dangerous," he agreed. "Oh, Edith, do we really want to do this? I'm afraid we could wind up in a literal Hell."

  She considered that. "I'm afraid that we are already committed, unless we throw away the plant and never touch magic again."

  "I've had just three days experience with magic," he said. "It's addictive. I want more of it, not less. Even if Hell threatens."

  "So you'd rather summon the demon?" she asked.

  "It's really your decision, because it's your plant. But yes, I think I'd rather."

  "Then let's do it, tomorrow," she said. "Maybe the demon will be able to answer all our questions."

  "Yes. But at what price?"

  "Maybe our souls," she said, shuddering. "That's what really frightens me."

  "Me too," he agreed. "Let's ponder overnight."

  Edith opened her mouth to agree. And paused. There was a faint shimmer, and the illusion about her faded. She was also hungry.

  "The magic ended," Kent said. "I just felt that chocolate leave my stomach. So now we have that answer: it's temporary."

  "Actions can indeed be undone," she agreed. "Unless it was always illusion, and we never actually ate that chocolate bar."

  "Dammit, the sex was real," he protested. "Our experiments were real. I'm sure of it."

  "I'm not," she said. "Maybe we imagined it."

  "I can't believe that. We both remember it, don't we, when only one of us had the magic."

  "Here's a thought experiment," she said. "Suppose Eden was a virgin. She had sex with you during the magic, so was no longer a virgin. But then she reverted."

  "So?"

  "So is her hymen restored, making her a virgin again?"

  "No, of course not."

  "But the candy bar was restored, after being eaten."

  "Oh shoot!" he said. "If candy can be un-eaten, then maybe sex can be undone too. The hymen's physical, like the gold. Damn."

  "But wouldn't it be simpler for all of it to be illusion?" she asked. "So we only remember it without ever actually doing it."

  He nodded reluctantly. "A false memory, maybe, or a real memory of an imagined happening. That is more credible. I hate that."

  “Why? Isn't our memory of it good, regardless whether we actually did it? What difference does it make?"

  He looked at her, pained. "Do you believe that?" he asked.

  "I'm not sure," she said.

  "But then maybe Eden never even existed. Just the memory of her."

  "With my illusion about my own body being stronger than your artificial illusion about my body," she said. "Because it's mine."

  Kent shook his head. "I've got to believe that Eden is real. I love her!"

  Edith sighed. "So do I. Your illusion did not change me. But when I became Eden, I truly was different. I was young, vigorous, and passionate. Yours was illusion; mine was real."

  "Yes!" he agreed. "You experienced both. You know the difference."

  "I know the difference," she agreed. "It was definitely real."

  "Which means that reversion does occur, physically, but our memories are real. Memories don't revert."

  "They don't," she agreed.

  "And we truly had sex." That was evidently important to him.

  "We did," she said. And realized that it was important to her too.

  "And Eden exists." Ah; there was the key. He had to believe that his young lover was not all in their imagination.

  "She exists."

  "Tomorrow we'll both sniff the magic," he said. "And Eden and I will make love. Then we'll summon the demon."

  "Yes," she agreed. Then she thought of something else. "When you used illusion to make me look like Eden, I was unchanged but willing to go along."

  "Yes, I understood that," he said. "I think that was part of my turnoff: I knew you weren't really into it the way Eden was."

  "Suppose I had been into it?" she asked. "Unchanged, but wanting your passion? Turned on. Would you have wanted to do it then?"

  He thought about that. "I like your mature mind, and Eden's great body and desire. The illusion made the body. So I guess yes."

  "Next question: could you project your desire to me, the way I sent you mental pictures, so that I am turned on?"

  "Maybe I could."

  "That may be another thing to try, when we care to," she said. "To ascertain the limits of the magic. Meanwhile, Eden is fine.
"

  "Eden is fine," he agreed. "I'd rather have her, no offense."

  "None at all. I merely want to know what is possible. Just in case."

  He looked at her. "I like the way your mind works. I am glad to have you for a friend. When I'm with Eden, I'm blinded by desire."

  "When I am Eden, my hormones tend to override my mind. That's fine, when I'm with you. But for rational thought, Edith is better."

  "So maybe tomorrow, after we make love," he said thoughtfully, "Eden should revert to Edith before we summon the demon."

  "Yes."

  That night Edith continued to think about summoning a demon. They agreed that demons were dangerous. It was not too late to stop. Yet her regular life was dull and unfulfilled. She enjoyed the magic and the affair with Kent. Did she want to give those up? No. The danger was a significant part of the fun. If she didn't follow up on this, when or how would she ever get an interesting life? She preferred to gamble. Even if she should wind up in Hell for it. At least Hell should be interesting. What more could she ask? But she would give Kent one more chance to back out. She could do this alone if she had to, though she'd much prefer it with him. Nervously satisfied with her chosen course, she slept. Tomorrow might be very good or very bad. Either way, it should be exciting.

  Kent came early next afternoon. "I've been having second and third thoughts," he said. "I don't have much to lose here. But you—"

  "I'm middle aged and dull," she said. "I can give it up. You're the one with youth and a future. So if you want to quit, you may."

  "I can't find work, and my unemployment is running out. This magic represents my hope for something better. So I'm definitely in."

  "So am I," she said. "But there's one other thing. Maybe one of us should remain objective, not under the spell of the magic."

  "I hadn't thought of that. You're right. The flower mist enables us to do magic; how else is it affecting us? We just don't know."

  "You had better be the objective one," she said.

  "And let you take the risk?"

  "And let me be Eden."

  "Oh, yes," he agreed instantly.

  They went to the flower. Edith saw that there were just three more blooms, one mature, two still developing. Six flowers in all.

  "I think we'll have two more days to do whatever we're going to do," she said. "Then it will be over."

  "Over," he agreed sadly.