hex vs transformer

Chuck watched me as I walked out of the garage. I looked around until I spotted the power lines running into the house, and then I followed the trench they were buried in back to the street until I got to the transformer. I looked up at it, glanced around a little guiltily, and sighed. Then I waved my hand at the thing, exerted my will, and muttered, “Hexus.”
Wizards and technology don’t get along. At all. Prolonged exposure to an active wizard has really detrimental effects on just about anything manufactured after World War II or so, especially anything involving electricity. My car breaks down every couple of weeks, and that’s when I’m not even trying. When I’m making an effort?
The transformer exploded in a humming shower of blue-white sparks, and the sound of an electric saw, somewhere on the site, died down to nothing.
I went back to the truck and sat quietly until Michael returned.
He gave me a steady look.
“It was in the name of good,” I said. “Your electrician was snockered. By the time the city gets by to repair it, he’ll have sobered up.”


Side Jobs, The Warrior, Page 231