Gliding down the slopes somewhere in the Scandes was always a delight. There was such incredible variety, the view beautiful, and then of course there was the excitement of approaching the sights before you at high speeds. Doctor Mercurial chuckled lightly as Rasmus, the boy toy she’d picked up for the day, zipped by. So far across several downhill miles, he never allowed her to stay ahead for long. The view, of course, was even better that way.

Merc didn’t, however, fully see what happened. A sharp swerve to avoid a tree, and suddenly Rasmus was behind her, accompanied by a loud cry of pain. She skidded to a stop and looked back, seeing him rolling over onto his back. His right leg didn’t quite look right. Irritated, she trudged back up to him.

Rasmus, perhaps to his credit, looked about as embarrassed as he was hurt. Merc pulled off her skis, then knelt beside him. A quick swipe of her hand down and up again, and she produced a box cutter, startling her companion. Ignoring this, she slit his pants open at the knee. It was turning red, and starting to swell. Bending over him to see its underside, it looked bad enough to leave her no doubt it was something fairly serious. “Christ,” she grumbled.

Rising upright, she brushed some snow over it, and he quickly took over. A few other skiers stopped, calling in Norwegian. She pulled out her cell phone, flashing a smile while she waved it at them. “It’s okay! I’ve called someone!” Turning back to Rasmus, she whispered, “Get rid of them! I can get you out of here faster than emergency services.”

Rasmus exchanged a few reassuring words with the other skiers and waved them on, then jokingly remarked “Hey, you’re a doctor, right? You going to take care of me?”

She’d heard it a thousand times before, but an attempt was made, so she offered him a charitable smirk. “Unfortunately for you, that’s just a stage name.”

Merc kept an eye out, waiting until no one was in sight. Doubt slowly crept onto Rasmus’s face. He knew she was rich, but of course she hadn’t actually called anyone.

Once the coast was clear, she took a ski, and swung it through the snow uphill. It swept overhead, a far more dramatic mini-avalanche than that should have been able to generate. After it passed, they and a pile of snow were sitting by a starlit poolside, an expansive mansion on one side, a sandy beach on the other, eliciting a cry of alarm from the confused man.

“What happened?!” he demanded. The fact that she had stood up and was walking for the door doubtless did nothing to ease his mind, but it didn’t matter much at this point. “Where are we?!” She reached inside and picked a black box up off a table that hadn’t been there ten seconds before. It was convenient that his leg was still mostly straight.

“Magic is real, I’m a magician, and we’re at my place,” she recited quickly as she returned and knelt beside him again. Rasmus started to protest, but could only stammer as his gaze swung around wildly, trying to take it all in. He didn’t even seem to notice as she placed the box around his leg, covering it from toe to mid-thigh. When she pushed the box flat, he jumped. Not without amusement, Merc wondered what had startled him more: the clap of wood against glass, or the pain suddenly vanishing. It certainly snapped his attention back to his leg, or what was left of it.

His jaw went slack, and he gasped out an “Uhh-uhh-uhh!” as he raised his leg, which now extended less than a foot before being sharply cut off, the flat surface covered in his fair skin. His panic, while amusing, was better cut off as well before it went too far. Mercurial held the flattened box up facing him, waving it around to grab his attention. On the front was a simply painted male leg. “Don’t worry, you’ll get it back. I’m sure you don’t want it right now, anyway. Now, I’m gonna call my doctor.” She set the box down beside him, stood, and walked away, leaving the stunned man behind, hiding a chuckle. It was always fun doing that.

Back inside, she pulled out her phone and dialed Doctor Yu. As she waited for him to pick up, Nadire, one of her maids, stepped delicately in the room. Or maybe it was one of the others in Nadire’s body. She was wearing a harem outfit, and Nadire preferred the French maid look. Given her posture of attentiveness, rather than surprise, she clearly had heard her come in.

Mercurial gestured to the door. “There’s a man out there who had a skiing accident. Make sure he’s comfortable.”

With a quick nod and a “Yes, master,” in reply, the woman strode out. Formal attitude, American accent, probably Katie.

After the appointment was made, she stepped into a curtain, and out the dense branches of the tree that took part in starting this diversion. She’d planned to ski today, and she intended to ski!