The milky blue crystal ball comes to life under Elsa's lazy hand. Fractals of light and shadow dance over the cobblestone walls. It looks like a tiny, glowing snow storm inside the glass sphere. Anna can't take her eyes off it.

If it weren't for the tea soothing her nerves, she would be freaking out right now. She would like to be excited. Gazing into a crystal ball and discovering secrets untold is one of the things she pictured herself doing when she first dreamed of entering the world of magic. That and flying on a broomstick. Anna has always longed to know what it's like to be up there in the sky, free like a bird. Sadly, Hans prefers teleporting. All modern mages do. It's faster. More efficient, more convenient. Too bad Anna vomits every. Single. Time.

The thing is, Anna would have liked her first time participating in divination to be with the wizard she signed up to assist, three years ago. The man who dazzled her with all his flashy tricks and told her she was special. A perfect match. So much potential. In all this time, he still hasn't even included her in a simple Tarot reading, even though she's memorised and studied the whole deck, and he still sometimes uses a cheat sheet.

'Are you sure this is…' Anna can't quite find the word. Allowed? Okay? It's not her place to tell a witch what she can't or shouldn't do. But Hans is her boss, who she is supposed to respect and trust, and spying on him is definitely crossing a line as well. 'It feels kinda disrespectful.'

'Disrespectful?' Elsa scoffs. 'He left you in a tree, in a storm. He'd better be as busy as you say.'

There's a certain authority in her voice, and Anna dares not argue.

Blurry light begins to form into blurry shapes. Colours separate, images take form. A figure on a bed. Hans. Leaning back on his pillows, one leg crossed over the other, cosy and warm in his bunny slippers. He scrolls on his phone, looking down through lazily lidded eyes, occasionally breathing out in a little almost-laugh.

Elsa shakes her head with her lip curled in disgust, and Anna looks down at the rough wood of the table, ashamed.

She is not even ashamed of Hans so much that she is ashamed of herself for overestimating her importance. For getting so excited about this job in the first place. For thinking she mattered to him.

Elsa's finger turns in a circle, and the image in the crystal ball moves backwards through time. Hans gets up from the bed, walks backwards into the kitchen. A tub of ice-cream falls upward from the bin into his hands, then fills up as he un-eats it and shoves it back into the freezer. When he pulls a bottle of lotion out of his drawer, and begins to unbutton his pants, the picture disappears, and the crystal ball goes dull.

'I think we've seen enough.' Elsa says.

'I guess his appointments all cancelled due to the weather.' In her heart, Anna knew this already. 'He knows I can take care of myself. And I had a nap earlier, when I was supposed to be working, so-'

'Why do you defend him?' The question is soft. Not harsh or demanding. But it resonates in the quiet room.

'I…' Anna looks at her furry face in the milky crystal ball. The "M" shaped marking above her blue-green eyes. The extra mane of fluff sticking out in all directions around her neck. It's not so much about defending Hans as it is about justifying it to herself. And she needs to justify it so that she can keep going, day after day, through the exhaustion, the monotony and the occasional mortal danger. Everybody starts at the bottom, right? Even her brother grumbled when he did his first legal internship had to run all the coffees and do all the photocopying for the whole firm, and he wasn't even paid! It's not that different. 'I chose this, I- love magic.'

Elsa opens her mouth to speak then closes it again and presses her lips into a thin line. She turns to the simmering cauldron and pours herself another mug of the "tea". 'What else do you love?' She asks. 'What did you do before you did this?'

'Lots of things!' Anna is grateful for the topic change. 'I was at university, studying media and journalism. I had lots of friends-I have lots of friends.' She corrects herself. They're still her friends, even if it's been a while. Even if they don't quite understand her job and her dual identity. Her half-finished degree is still there waiting for her. She chooses to speak in the present tense, 'I love music and local gigs. I love parties and meeting new people, oh, and I love reading! I'm guessing you do too?'

'Of course. My books are my best friends.' Elsa smiles and looks over at her formidable bookshelf. From this height on the chair, Anna can see that it's absolutely jam packed from top to bottom with books of all shapes and sizes. As it turns out, they have similar taste, having read a lot of the same series growing up. All the classics of course, some historical fiction and a little bit of horror, but mostly fantasy and adventure. The Steel Stars Trilogy. The Wicked Crystals of Wyre. Dragon Warriors. Elsa's even read the entire Crown of Blood series and formulated theories on the prophecy of the Thorn Heart Princess.

'That's crazy!' Anna slams her paws on the table in excitement, 'None of my friends have finished it! They're always telling me not to spoil them, but it's so frustrating because they never catch up.'

'Pathetic.' Elsa says. 'Tell them to read faster.'

'I always had to read super fast so my dad wouldn't catch me. I read most of Dragon Warriors in secret, under the covers, until he took away my torch. He doesn't like all that fantasy stuff.'

'Nor does mine,' Elsa smiles a half smile, looking into the distance, 'I'm sure he would have done the same, if he could have confiscated the light from my fingers.'

'But…' Anna falters. Perhaps she's made an assumption or several. 'Isn't he a wizard?'

'Oh, yes.' Elsa says in a light tone. 'Just not a very fun one.'

'Damn, that sucks. Mine's got cancer, now, so he's not much fun either.'

'Oh.' The look of awkward pity on Elsa's face is textbook. She wrings her hands. 'I'm sorry.'

Whoops. Anna forgets how dropping the C word can dampen the mood of a room, like blowing out a candle. It's such a constant companion in her own family. 'No, it's fine! Sorry, I overshare sometimes. It's awkward- not you. I'm awkward. You're…'

Gorgeous. Intimidating. Fascinating. And so kind! And of course, Anna's stuck as a freaking cat.

'Y-You're cool.'

Elsa blinks rapidly with her mouth open. 'I… cool? I don't think anyone's ever called me cool before.'

'Well I happen to be somewhat of an expert.' Anna says, like a big old doofus. 'Not really, I don't know why I said that.' As if it wasn't awkward enough, she finds herself yawning. The tiredness has crept back already. It's like it leaks from her bones these days, never at bay for long.

'You can take a nap if you want to.' Elsa says, as though it's a normal thing to walk into a stranger's house and take a nap. 'I have a few chores to get to. Shirts to mend. Things to… pickle.'

The sky is still throwing a tantrum of lightning and thunder. Howling wind rattles tree branches outside, though all the sounds are muted inside.

'Oh, no, I'm sorry. I'm just always tired these days. You know, because I'm always hustling-'

'You're safe here. There's a ward over the house. Nobody can see what you're doing. Rest, if you need to. There's no shame in it.'

They both know that by "nobody" she means Hans, which is a little embarrassing. She should have learnt better by now than to lay her weaknesses at the foot of a stranger, but somehow those words, you're safe here, there's no shame in it, send a tingling into the base of Anna's skull. The fatigue pulls harder, like an ocean current, dragging her under. Her eyes flicker over to the wicker basket sitting on the floor by the hearth, apparently not very subtly because Elsa notices and says, with a sigh, 'You can sleep in my berry basket if you want to.'

And that is what Anna does. The basket is the perfect size, snug and secure. It smells fresh and sweet like berries and leaves, and the towel inside is super soft. It almost beckons her to lie down and rest, with the fire crackling like a lullaby.

When Anna wakes from the best sleep she has had in months - possibly years, possibly ever - she feels something close to refreshed. Elsa sits at the table with a steaming mug. She's changed into old jeans, sneakers and a faded blue hoodie, looking remarkably ordinary. 'Good morning.'

Anna jumps out of the basket and arches her back into a satisfying stretch. The urge to scratch itches at her paws. Golden morning light streams through the window. After a brief few moments of peace, the ever waiting demands of her life catch up to her. 'Shit! How long did I sleep? What's the time?'

'Um…it's morning time.' Elsa's eyebrows turn upwards, anxious, and she pulls her hands into herself, which is kind of adorable. Wait, what? 'Are you late for something?'

Of course she is. She is always late for something. Anna's whole life these days has a sense of chasing behind something she can't catch. Chasing her tail. Sometimes she wishes she could just stop. Give up. Let it get away from her.

She feels bad turning down Elsa's offer to stay for breakfast, but the store opens at ten, they begin preparations for the day at eight, and based on the morning light, eight is rapidly approaching. She hops up onto the bench and makes her way toward the open window. 'It was lovely to meet you, Elsa. Thank you so much for everything yesterday. I don't even want to imagine how my night would have gone if you didn't show up! I really owe you one...' She wants to exchange numbers. Add each other on social media. Make a time to meet again with the kind, beautiful, strange witch who shares her taste in literature, but Elsa said straight up that she likes to keep to herself. Doesn't usually have guests. People who live this far in the middle of the forest with no trail leading to their house usually want to be left alone. 'But I'd better be getting back now. Good bye.'

'I can take you home.' Elsa says.

'It's okay, you've done enough, really-'

'You're tiny. The forest is all wet and muddy. The store is miles away.' That note of authority creeps into Elsa's voice. 'I need to go to town, anyway.'

She does raise good points, and Anna doesn't want to cause offence, though she feels guilty having Elsa use up her mana, and she will feel even worse when she vomits on her. 'I really don't do so well with teleporting. My stomach, uh, doesn't agree with it.'

'Neither does mine.' Elsa grabs her navy coat from its hook and pulls a matching beanie over her head. She's already got her broom in her hand. 'We'll fly.'

Well shit. Anna can't say no to that.