Magic can rid you of the effects of a drink, but it can't burn away the hangover. At least, not when you're the one that's hungover.
The light was far too bright, and my blankets scratched something awful on my skin.
I heard someone laugh, a beautiful, clear laugh, that shook my weave. I forced myself to sit up, shielded my eyes from the sun, and glared at the golden-eyed goddess sitting on the edge of my bed.
"You could always do something about this," I said.
"What? And rob you of the joys of a hangover? Not on your life."
I sighed, and fell back on my bed.
She lay beside me.
"It's great to see you," and I called her by her name. "I've been wondering where you were."
"The old man held an emergency meeting. It lasted a few days. I couldn't get away."
"It doesn't matter. You're here now."
"That's true." She shifted onto her back and stared at the ceiling. "So this is what it feels like to be one of your girls."
