Page 84 of Autumn L.A.W

“All of the aromas are both captivating and mysterious. The enchanting scent has the power to transport you to a magical world, but don’t smell it for too long. You could get lost there. Another characteristic is that it changes shape and color, depending on the time of day. That’s why it’s called the Kaleidoscope plant. It only grows in the depths of the Central American jungles. If you bring it to me, I will help you rectify this mistake.”

The mission of the L.A.W. was to help people. Victoria agreed to help the woman and then hoped the woman would help her too.

Victoria filled in the witches, grabbed what she needed, and headed straight for the airport. Hours later, Central America rose up beneath the plane like a wall of green.

Panama hit her with heat the moment she stepped off the plane. She didn’t linger. She flagged a taxi, rattled down to the canal, then climbed into a narrow boat that looked like it might not sink. Soon enough, the engine sputtered to life, and she was skimming down a muddy river, the jungle closing in on both sides.

Too long later, she was still on that river. Her guide assured her it was ‘right around the corner’… several times.

“This had better be worth it,” she muttered, swatting something with wings and evil intentions.

By the time she reached land, her nerves were shot, and her patience was thin. This wasn’t a vacation. This was a magical scavenger hunt designed by a sadist, and she was already behind.

The jungle, however, refused to care.

It rose around her in layers—lush, loud, unapologetically alive. Birds screamed. Leaves whispered. Something unseen crashed through the underbrush like it owned the place.

“Fine,” she said under her breath. “Be mysterious and dramatic.”

She hired a local guide, because wandering blindly into a jungle felt like a short career move, and followed him deeper into the green maze. Five minutes in, the jungle declared war.

Mosquitoes descended like tiny vampires. The heat wrapped around her like a damp blanket someone refused to remove. Sweat trickled down places she didn’t even want to acknowledge. Victoria clenched her jaw.

Do not complain. Do not complain…

She kept her mouth shut. The people who lived here didn’t get to opt out of the heat or the bugs. This was their home, not some inconvenient backdrop for her mission. And after the Long Island dry cleaner debacle, well, she’d learned what happened when she treated someone’s world like it was beneath her.

Lesson received, Goddess. Still miserable, but received.

“Keep moving,” she told herself, pushing through the foliage. “You’ve survived worse—maybe.”

Hours passed. The jungle didn’t thin. It deepened. Every step felt like stepping into a living, breathing organism that was convinced she didn’t belong there.

Good. The feeling was mutual.

Then something shifted. She slowed. For once, she stopped judging and just… looked.

The light filtered through the canopy. The vegetation was layered in different shades of green. The distant laughter of voices she couldn’t see. Life, everywhere, tangled together in a way that didn’t need her approval. Huh. Maybe she had been a little insufferable.

They trekked on. Then her guide stopped. Victoria followed his gaze and blinked.

There it was.

A plant that looked like a hallucination. Colors rippled across its surface, shifting like it couldn’t commit to a single identity. Its shape subtly changed, petals curling and uncurling as if it were breathing. And the scent… “Oh,” she exclaimed. The aroma hit her—sweet, sharp, and intoxicating. It wrapped around her senses, tugging her somewhere just out of reach.

“Right. Dangerous,” she said quickly, dragging in a careful breath through her mouth. “We respect the plant. We do not inhale the plant.”

She moved fast. Kneeling, she dug into the soil and pulled up several specimens, roots and all, working with precision and without hesitation. Dirt packed under her nails. Sweat dripped into her eyes. But she didn’t stop.

“Got you,” she muttered, securing them in baggies, like evidence. The scent lingered, tempting.

“Nope,” she said, shoving the plants into her large tote bag and zipping it as if she were locking up a criminal.

Mission complete. Almost. Now came the illegal part.

She made her way back to the port, already running through worst-case scenarios. Customs. Questions. Confiscation. Prison. Extremely unflattering mugshot.

“Not happening.” Without magic, she had to improvise.