Lucia stared at her torn PASADENA HIGH SCHOOL T-shirt. Copper leylines extended from her trembling fingertips, squirming in the vague direction of the strands of scratched fiber on the shirt. After moments of clumsy maneuvering, they joined, weaving together into some union of magic and matter. Then, her leylines dimmed, corporealizing until they became indistinguishable from real fabric.

Lucia looked down at her handiwork. The gaping hole in the middle of the shirt was now held together by a single braid the thickness of a fingernail.

Lucia wiped sweat from her brow. She checked her gem. Despair sloshed.

Lucia buried her hands in her face. Stupid. She should have seen this coming and secured her non-essential possessions. Lucia deserved this, for allowing herself– a magical girl– to relax like this. Body snatcher magi hadn't even tried hard! Lucia's grief seeds, hidden beneath a loose floorboard under her mattress, had not been touched.

Maia stood in the door, awkwardly. "Ahh Lucia– you could borrow some of my clothes– if you–"

Lucia threw her shirt into a garbage bag.

"I don't have them with me right now," Maia continued. "But I could–"

Lucia composed herself before speaking. "I'm a head taller than you, I won't fit. Please don't worry. I'll be able to find clothes. I could just go shopping, if it comes to that. They'll just let you take everything nowadays. Since there's no one there. Or anywhere."

"Right," Maia said.

"It's almost twelve. Let's leave." Lucia ought to go early to look good. Touch base with Hazel, and school the drug dealer rookie before she caused any trouble.

"Miss Lucia– I–" Maia looked pensive. Something about this situation that her supposed invincibility and omniscience couldn't solve.

"Listen, I wanted to– I wanted to say." Maia said. "I know– Miss Abby– didn't take this whole thing. As serious as she should have. She let. That CK–"

"She's not a CK."

"Miss Hazel says she's a CK." Maia said, matter of fact.

Kill Maia. Squeeze her thin neck until oxygen stopped flowing through it.

"Not a CK." Maia hurriedly corrected. "Not a CK! I– I honestly– I think Miss Hazel is full of– full of bull. You're the last person to get a bounty! You– you always– do the good things. I know you, you kill more witches than anyone, you don't do it for seeds– Miss Hazel says you're stupid, and crazy, you know? That's how good you are. To Miss Hazel you're stupid and crazy!"

Lucia sagged. "Thank you, Maia."

"Miss Abby– she– she made a mistake. I– if this city, this city loses you– I don't know what I'll do. But now I'm here. You're safe now. This won't happen again. I'll protect you! Remember. Nothing goes through me!"

That word, safe. It struck a chord with her. Safe safe safe. Because despite this mess she was definitely safe now. Body snatcher magi had shown her hand, and she would lose because of it. A poetic loss– all because she underestimated Pasadena.

Lucia smiled. "Yes," she said. "You're right, Maia. I'm safe now." God, she was being comforted by Maia. She's what, thirteen? How pathetic was this?

Maia stared at the shirt Lucia was trying to mend. "Hey how are you doing that, the sewing– part of your power?"

"Oh, no. This is just basic matter construction. I learned it on Magicord."

"Oh," Maia said. "Let me try."

Maia stuck her hand out. Cyan energy sparked around her hand. Then, two, three threads extended from each of her fingers, braiding together into a rope the width of Lucia's pinky. Then, abruptly they lost their luster and fell limp, indistinguishable from real fabric.

"Jesus." Lucia said.

"Heh– it's– it's hard! Uh, I might need some extra practice– and geez. That wasn't good for my gem– ohhh."

"Don't tire yourself out," Lucia said.

"Yeah you're, you're right," Maia grinned weakly. "We gotta, gotta witch to fight."

Time Until Raid on Weather Witch: 1 hour 30 minutes

Abby liked power.

She wanted to stand atop the world, to feel the tip of the pyramid dig into the soles of her feet, and she didn't know why. Maybe it was because she liked it when other people did what she said, or maybe it was because of some unresolved childhood trauma. There was only one place for someone like her to go– Los Angeles, the shining jewel of the American west. But there was no vacancy. Thirty-two magical girls living in harmony, the hierarchy locked firmly in place. She opted instead to station herself nearby, ready to swoop in as soon as one such vacancy opened vulture-like.

So she went to Pasadena. Counting her and Chase there were five girls– about the right number for a city its size, although Abby didn't consume nearly as much grief seeds as the average girl. The problems were the girls already there.

Sisters River and Meadow. Don't be fooled by their pretty names– they were a river of boiling acid and a meadow where cursed flora fed from soil composed of festering carrion. They chased every girl in Pasadena out, and when Abby visited they were in the process of doing the same with a fresh contract, Lucia. They beat her up. Stole her lunch money. But it wasn't like, a sandwich. It was magical girl lunch. They stole her grief seeds.

So when Lucia, dirty, exhausted, her soul gem a couple shades lighter than death, came to her, a scared rookie plunged into the alien depths of magical society like Abby had probably once been, Abby took pity on her.

They killed Meadow. River ran. She moved to the Bay Area, and her Magicord account was deactivated soon after that. Lucia, meanwhile, reinvented herself. She became a politician, talking everyone's heads off every single meeting, no possible moments of weakness.

But when Abby saw Lucia huddled in the bathroom, transformed, crawled into a ball behind her shield– she realized that the meek, troubled girl who begged for Abby to help her not die just three months ago had never disappeared after all.

And. Worst of all. Abby was the one who made it happen. She made some mistake, one she couldn't yet intuit, and Sofia escaped. And she did this to the only person she was close to after That Event That She Could No Longer Remember–

But how could she possibly have escaped? As Abby had told Lucia, she had Chase hide Sofia's gems far away, well outside the three hundred feet range where gems could control bodies.

Still thinking, Abby left the confines of Lucia's apartment and found Chase's red sedan waiting for her. She got in. Abby tried to tell Chase to drive home, but Chase fired the car up on her own.

"Huh," Abby said. "Where're we going?"

"You'll see," Chase said.

"Uh, potato?"

"Potato," Chase confirmed.

They drove through Chapman and Lamanda Park, past decaying trees and peeling billboards, and stopped by an abandoned Denny's. The scent of dust and grease and moldy food made Abby's nostrils flare.

"What's, what's up." Abby said. "What're we doing."

Somewhere within, shadows bulged into the third dimension and burst, exposing the greasy, toad-like features of Ellen. She wore– a chain collar.

Abby burst into action. She slammed the car door open, hands already dissolving into green vapor–

A golden lock clicked. Memories flooded into her head.

Staying up past two to heal Chase. Getting a good six hours of sleep before being stirred awake by Sofia, who, grinning, told her all about how she courageously destroyed Lucia's properties while she wasn't home, with an expression like she didn't just do the stupidest thing any living human had ever done.

Abby never left the house last night. Because there was no need to hide Sofia's soul gems, because Abby wanted Lucia dead, just as Sofia did. The contradicting memories– having Chase scrambling Sofia's gems, driving to Garfield Heights– they lost their certainty, already fading from her memory like a nice dream.

Abby's hand reformed from the glowing green particles. She stared at nothing.

Okay.

Sofia trotted out the restaurant and into the car, smelling like moldy food and sweat. Before Abby could talk, there was a truth she needed to make herself forget.

Abby closed her eyes. Imagined her soul, infinite branches stretching outwards, the tree of experiences that composed her life. She selected a specific part of a specific branch; a box with a golden lock clamped shut around it, rendering it inaccessible. Not forever, though. Abby chose when the memory would come back– when she talked to Lucia next. Yes, that would work.

Done.

Branches rearranged themselves, splitting off from their dead brethren and joining other healthy ones. The changes climbed upwards, towards the tree's uppermost tips, the present moment–

And, what was she doing again?

"Abby," Sofia said. "You, you okay?"

Abby ignored her.

"I was just asking you– how did the meeting go."

"Like the most rank shit that you can ever imagine. Worst case scenario."

"I– I– did you get into trouble? Did they– did they realize that it was me who, who wrecked the, the computer?"

"You think Lucia is deaf and blind? Of course she realized you were behind it. How is that even a question?"

Sofia stared numbly.

"Here's what happened. Lucia called Maia. She talked Maia into living with her." Abby said. "I tried to talk her out of it, tried my best, but you wrecked her house. You– what were you thinking?"

"Maia. That magi who beat everyone else in the city. And killed Aubrey."

"Yeah," Abby said. "Maia. Here's what we do, Chase is going to escort you out of the city, and you're going to move to another state, another country maybe, and we'll forget that each other exists. Okay?"

"What about Lucia. We need to kill Lucia?"

"It's not about that anymore. The problem right now is you making it out of the city alive. Listen," Abby said. "If you are within half a mile of Maia, you will die. It might take a second for Maia to get to you, but the result will not change. You will end up as a little smudge on the ground."

Abby paused. There was something that her plan did not account for: Sofia had no impulse control. When she got pissy she went on temper tantrums and destroyed things. Would certain death really deter her?

"No fucking way," Sofia said. "You can't do this. Abby, listen Abby, I'm sorry for acting on my own. I shouldn't have done any of that. Just give me another chance. I'll. I won't mess it up, up again!"

"No one's stopping you," Abby said. "You can go kill yourself if you want. Just don't give me away."

Sofia's eyes bulged out like a toad. "Oh– yeah– I–"

"Okay Chase," Abby said. "let's go home."

Time Until Raid on Weather Witch: 1 hour 12 minutes

It was so hot.

Every surface around her felt like an open stove, singing her skin. It was unpleasant, but it did not disturb the motor abilities of her fingers, so Madison played her piano.

In the heat, sweat poured out of every pore on her hand. Her fingers slipped on the keys and made her playing sloppy. Sloppier than usual, anyway. Not that Grandpa, tone deaf, could tell.

Madison finished the piece. Did a little flourish. On the sofa behind her, Grandpa clapped.

"Nice, nice." he mumbled. He looked exhausted. His gnarled features gleamed with sweat that dripped down to collect on the top of his shirt. It gave Madison a good idea of what she looked like. "It is so hot out there," he continued. "The fires are burning closer. They'll finally come to evacuate us."

Madison wiped the sweat from her brow. "There'll be no need," she said. "We'll be fine."

"If they do though, the house," Grandpa cooled himself with a hand fan he'd swiped from some New York hotel ten years earlier. "We won't be able to fit the piano into the fire truck. Oh, your mother spent so much money on that piano you know, her soul's in there for sure."

Madison ignored him, as she ignored all of his hallucinatory ramblings about his daughter, Madison's mother.

"Grandpa," Madison said. "I need to go."

Grandpa's lips disappeared into a line. "You know how dangerous it is out there."

"Not for me. I'm immune to evil spirits. I've told you, remember?"

"Mmm."

Grandpa readjusted his glasses. He reached for his teacup and took a nice, long sip of water while Madison watched.

"That guy next door. That guy, Nicholas. He is a good guy. He works in technology, at Apple phones." Grandpa brought his teacup to his mouth to drink. "I went to visit him, and I found his door wide open, and there was not a soul in his house. His entire family, gone!"

This introduction was extraneous. Madison saw them converse almost daily. "You visited him?"

"Nicholas did not visit at his usual time. Nicholas, he is a timely guy, not late ever. This caused concern, and I visited–"

Madison stood up. "God damn it. How many times do I have to tell you not to leave the house?"

Grandpa's hand froze mid-drink. He set the teacup down and looked at Madison with a meaningful expression. "With your mother gone. Your grandmother gone. Nicholas was my only companion. And now he was taken away. Please don't be so callous."

Madison closed her eyes and stopped herself from smashing something or performing some other action that was beneath her. No matter how innocuous the conversation topic, Grandpa always eventually made it about Madison's dead mom or some other time he risked his own life by going out alone despite EVERYTHING SHE SAID.

"Please." she said. "I'm begging you. Don't, don't ever go outside by yourself, you're risking your life, do you want to leave me here all alone–"

Grandpa ignored her. "Do you know what Nicholas said to me– yesterday? He said that he couldn't concentrate in his house. He was trying to read, but he couldn't absorb anything. He missed being outside. Said he wanted to go to the park."

Madison wasn't going to be able to talk until he finished, then. She obliged.

"He's never read before. That guy, all he cares about is computers. Nicholas would never read. No, he wanted to read because those evil spirits planted a delusion inside his head."

Madison looked up. "When did this happen?"

"Yesterday."

If Grandpa brought this up at any time with her before, Madison would have immediately recognized the symptoms of a witch's kiss, locked Nicholas in a room, and his family would have lived.

"But what I'm saying, Madison, is this." Grandpa said. "Your idea, that you are somehow immune from the influences of the evil spirits, is also a delusion. You have already been infected– you swallowed the bait. And now the evil spirits want you outside to eat you. Think about it. Why are you immune? Why do you need to go?"

Madison opened her mouth. She had no answer.

"Like I thought," Grandpa said. "I am not sure what the reason in your head is. Perhaps you need to go outside to save your mom. Some guy left five hundred thousand U.S. Dollars on the street and called you to collect it. But it is a trick. You have been infected. There is nothing out there."

In moments like these, Madison wanted to tell Grandpa about witches, magical girls, everything.

And what? Instead of being worried that Madison could potentially be getting herself killed, Grandpa could know for sure that Madison was getting herself killed every day and would be for the rest of her life– and. To tell him that, after outliving Grandma, Mom, and Dad, he would, statistically speaking, outlive Madison too.

"I'm too old, too frail. I couldn't stop you if I tried. I can only hope you're not so far gone yet that you can still listen to reason. Come on. Stay with me. Play me something else."

Fuck her. There was no way out.

"This is just like all the other times I've gone out," Madison tried. "I went out last night and I was fine. Okay? Don't get so worked up now."

"Okay. I have one last request. You take me with you."

Madison blinked.

Grandpa was volunteering to die. That's why he was stuttering and not making eye contact and acting all introspective. He thought that he was going to follow Madison into a labyrinth so they could get mind fucked so hard they stab themselves and die together. It was his ultimate attack, his magical girl finisher, his final way to throw everything Madison had worked for in the past month back into her face.

Life decided it wasn't enough, having to deal with witches getting Grandpa killed. Now Grandpa's trying to get himself killed too. If Madison forced her way out, she might come back to find Grandpa's limp body dangling from a noose.

Madison calmed herself down, and went into her room. She transformed into her costume– a black mountaineering jacket and a matching scarf. Instantly the temperature went up thirty degrees. She packed grief seeds and granola bars into her weightless backpack and returned to the living room.

"I've made up my mind." Madison said. "Grandpa, come with me."

"What is that you are wearing? Have you gone crazy girl?"

"No time," Madison snapped. "Our deaths await."

Madison took Grandpa in a bridal carry. He yelped and fumbled and resisted, pushing his sweaty, bony palms against Madison's face.

"I need to– don't– I need to change! My shoes–"

Madison ignored him and opened the door outside. They lived close to the labyrinth– things had gotten much worse overnight. It was like a volcano had erupted. Clouds that glowed molten orange covered the sky.

The house across from them belonged to Nicholas. It was a little shack with a garage. The doors were wide open.

Madison didn't give it another look. She turned right and began to walk in the direction of the strongest witch she had ever seen. Their ticket out of this city.

Time until raid on Weather Witch: 12 minutes

Jacinta, what are you doing Jacinta. I said twelve minutes! You live like fifteen minutes away from the witch. Why are you still eating? Stop it. STOP IT!

Jacinta shoveled runny eggs, corned beef, and rice into her mouth. The flavors mixed. Heaven permeated through her tongue to the rest of her body. Ma watched her eat.

"How do you like it bebe," she said.

"Good," Jacinta said, her mouth muffled, as if Ma couldn't already tell by taking a look in her general direction. Oh well, Ma probably just wanted to hear it.

Miranda stared, too. "Is this like, a magical girl thing? Eating five tons of food every day?"

Jacinta ignored her and kept eating. Scraped the rest of the grains into her mouth.

Miranda's plate was mostly untouched. She poked at her yolk. It burst, covering her plate with egg fluid. "Do you want mine?"

Jacinta grinned. "This is what I'm talking about man." She snatched the plate below Miranda's face and dumped it into her plate. Ma and Miranda watched with fascinated expressions as Jacinta devoured it just as quickly.

"It's Almost twelve bebe," her mom said. "Don't you have to go to that thing? What's that thing called?"

"Yeah yeah," Jacinta mumbled. She shoved the rest of the food into her mouth and wiped it with her hand.

"Ueck," Ma said. "Stop doing that. We have so many napkins, I've told you so many times child."

"I'm washing my hands right after."

"No you're not. You're going to wipe it on the wall, on the couch, whatever expensive fabric you can get your hands on and I'll have to clean it– "

Making eye contact, Jacinta took a napkin from the table, and wiped her hands. The egg was sticky and paper flakes ripped off and stuck to her hand.

"You have to be respectable. We live in this house, in this family, you have to stop acting like such a pig all the time. Learn from your sister."

Miranda stuck out her tongue. Jacinta frowned.

They finished eating; dishes were thrown in the sink. Miranda, being responsible and Ma's ideal of a rich trophy housewife, hummed and began washing.

"We'll make a good impression on your friends," Ma said.

Ma dragged her out of the dining room. Then out of the large modern kitchen, into the huge outdoors bonsai garden/koi pond, which they crossed under the pleasant blue sky. They went indoors on the other side, past the pool table/bar, into Jacinta's room, then into her closet.

The lights turned on in sequence. Clothes, shoes, purses, and fabrics beamed down at her, organized in the various shades of beige, black, and blue. Ma's face lit up. She pranced around the room, possessed, running her hands through the clothes, listening to them, a Michelangelo asking the block of stone what statue it wanted to be made into. She picked out a gray dress with chain patterns on it.

"Oh yes this one, this was in the Chanel summer collection a year ago, I got this one for you when we went to LA, remember? Oh yes indeed, I've always wanted the weather to be like this so you get a chance to wear this. You were so happy when you tried this on." Ma smiled at her. "I'll wait for you to get changed outside."

Jacinta examined the dress. It was different from the one yesterday, and the day before yesterday, though she couldn't quite tell how. Going into her closet alone always made her nauseous. It was good that Ma was here for her.

She shrugged, removed her top, and put the dress on.

She went outside. Ma was tidying her room, flattening the already flat sheets, purging the miniscule amount of dust that had accumulated in the past two hours. She helped Jacinta zip up the back of her dress, and beamed.

"You look beautiful," she said.

"Thanks Ma. No makeup today, I'm late enough as is."

"Oh come on– you know how makeup does such wonderful things for your eyes–"

It took awhile, convincing Ma, maybe more time than if Jacinta just sat down and allowed her to put makeup on, Ma did those fast. But eventually Jacinta coaxed Ma out of her room and to the front door of their residence. The gateway to the outside world.

"Alright bebe," Ma smiled. "Have a good time with your friends now."

Jacinta looked in front of her. Their glass doors refracted all light into nostalgic blobs of trees and concrete. Green, white, blue.

It was at times like this when Jacinta thought she could forget everything. She could go through that door, see the bustling streets of San Diego, where Hans, her chauffeur, would weave through the city until Horizon Preparatory School's large courtyard and pretentious gothic architecture came into view. Where she could skip and go drink rounds of boba with her girl friends and bitch about designer bags, or boys, or whatever they wanted. Unless it was test day– then she would show up and do everything! She'd get into a good college, and inherit the nebulous family business of her father's–

Jacinta opened the door. The laurel trees and suburban tranquility unraveled. It left only reality. The desolate streets of Pasadena, where she reigned as a magical girl.

"Okay bebe," Ma said warily. "Stay safe. We'll be waiting for you."

Jacinta transformed. The gray dress Ma picked faded away, replaced by a frilly school uniform. "Love you Ma," she said.

Jacinta stepped through the door and went into hell.

Time Until Raid on Weather Witch: negative 25 minutes

Unacceptable. Unacceptable! Did she have no sense of other people? For the past hour Lucia waited, slowly roasting into jerky within the witch's sphere of influence. But Hazel was still not here. She got here after Jacinta for christ's could anyone be this late even after Lucia moved the expedition back six hours?

Lucia sat with Abby, whose phone she had commandeered to communicate with rogue girls. Steph would not answer her phone, the promises yesterday empty as usual. Hazel did, however; she had left the city (!) the day before, and was currently driving back.

So they could only wait. Spend valuable magical energy maintaining homeostasis in an oven. Become restless and lose their morale. Hazel was not going to be popular after this, and nor would Lucia be for defending her. Oh well.

Small talk with Abby had long since died– it was too damn hot. There was nothing to do except stew.

And stew.

And stew–

The sound of engines approached, stopped, and two sets of footsteps drew towards them. Hazel's bulk appeared behind the fencing, along with some stranger– fourteen maybe, sloppy ponytail, acne. Despite the heat she wore a green jacket. Her hands fumbled perpetually inside her pocket.

The weed dealer. She met Lucia's eyes, and smiled a fake smile that revealed green studded braces. Lucia's girls stopped writhing in heat, tensed up, and stared.

"Hi Pasadena. I'm Rachel. Pleasure to meet ya."

There was no sound save the tussle of fabric as Rachel continued to scratch at the insides of her pocket.

Drug dealers– amongst the lowest in the echelons of sin. Parasites that exploit feeble-minded individuals with no impulse control, sapping away their life and their grief seeds. And, despite what Hazel might believe, Pasadena had not yet fallen so low as to accept the likes of them as members.

"Rachel?" Lucia said. "Come with me. We should speak privately."

Rachel took her hands out of her pocket, gave her two thumbs ups. Lucia led her inside the remaining shell of the convenience store, where little embers still burnt.

"Hey," Lucia said. They shook hands. Lucia kept her voice level. She suppressed the muscle memory that tugged her facial muscles into a smile, though."I'm Lucia. Hazel talked to you about me?"
"Yes ma'am." said Rachel. "You've been in this city the longest. And you keep it honest."

"I do. Anyways, I'd like to talk to you about your experiences before you came here. Is it true you came from Arcata, California?"

"Yes. I was contracted in Mendocino. I was referred to Arcata by the, the incubator. I spent a month there before coming here."

"Okay," Lucia said. That's a good segue. "In Arcata, did you participate in the production or distribution of marijuana?"

There was a pause. Rachel's eyes widened and formed into her best shocked/surprised/what are you talking about face.

"Don't make me repeat myself," Lucia said.

"I– I. Yes, I was. I was involved– yeah."

"I see," Lucia said. "Tell me, what exactly did you do?"

"I was involved in the, in the production. My ability was good and I was, I was scouted, by the Arcata guys."

"What is your ability?"

"Yes. My ability. I can uh."

Rachel stuck out her left hand and drew a single air circle around her right. The skin on her index finger began to shift and loosen, moisture evaporating, browning until it had turned a maple color, glistening with some oily fluid. And there was a scent that overpowered the burning garbage– like oil, spices, and cooked meat.

Then Rachel took a quarter out of the pocket, tossed it up into the air, and made a finger gun.

"Bang," she said.

Her fingernail shot off and hit the quarter with a metallic echo. A metal donut dropped to the ground. The magic melted off her finger.

"I can transform ingredients into delicious culinary treats," said Rachel. "That can also double as weapons. It can also– be used to prepare cannabis leaves. That was my job there. We had a special strain was difficult to prepare. I was able to speed that up, significantly."

"You wrote in your application that you were ousted from Arcata. What happened?"

She scratched harder at the pockets in her coat. "You watch gangster movies? The Godfather? American Gangster? Goodfellas?"

"No," Lucia said.

Rachel laughed humorlessly. "The Arcata guys sure did. I worked under a capo. Do you understand, a capo. I was in a gunfight in Eureka, that's a city. I crushed a rebellion. And I wasn't build for that– I want to just fight witches and just die, like everyone else, you know?"

"Admirable." Lucia said. "Question is. Why did you join in the first place?"

"I was referred by the incubator. He said it was a good opportunity, an easy job. I took it because I was stupid."

"You had a choice."

Rachel fumbled even more with her jacket pocket. Her eyes darted– towards the door, towards the security camera, anywhere but Lucia's face. "I– I didn't know what I was getting into! I'm– I'd just contracted. I was looking for a way out. You understand!"

"Okay. But you got out of there."

The jacket fumbling increased in rigor. "I did! It was hard. They have– guard dogs. I– I hitchhiked two hundred miles. But I escaped– I shook them off. And, and, even if they haven't, they wouldn't be crazy enough to follow me inside Pasadena. Okay?"

"Very impressive," Lucia said, diplomatically. "I'm sure you'll be a great help in our campaign then."

Rachel smiled. "Yeah. Hell yeah I will. Listen Lucia, you're, you're cool. If you ever hungry, you don't feel like cooking nothing, just show up for dinner. I can work my, my magic fingers."

"Thank you for the offer," Lucia said. "One disclaimer. This city, as you said, I keep it honest. One thing I absolutely cannot allow is for a weed cartel like the one you escaped from to start in here." Lucia made eye contact. "If you continue producing weed, you will be expelled, no second chance. Do you understand?"

"Yeah I do, yes ma'am. You are, you are going to have to worry about none of that stuff."

"Also, remember this is still your tryouts, and I'll be watching you. Do your best."

"Yes. Yes Ma'am."

Rachel sounded happy. Not Lucia's intention, but it was only going to make it hurt more when she kicked her out after. Later, Lucia would need to have a talk with Hazel about bringing drug dealers into her city.

"That's all I have to say," Lucia said. "Let's go back."

They did.

Hazel pranced back and forth. She saw Lucia and flashed a grin. "I trust you had a productive discussion?"

"Very productive!" Rachel said. "Fructiferous! Efficacious! Scintillating!"

"The word fructiferous has no linguistic connotation beyond a plant that is bearing fruit," Hazel said. "It's not a synonym of productive as a word like fruitful is–"

"Whatever!" Rachel said. "Sorry Hazel!"

"Yes," Hazel said. She nudged Maia.

"Mmm? Yes." Maia said. "Everyone. Everyone!"

No one listened. Madison and Jacinta mumbled animatedly about Rachel as if she was not next to them. Abby stared into space.

"EVERYONE!" Maia screamed at the top of her lungs.

That did it. Everyone stared at Maia, then at Hazel when they saw Maia pointing at her.

"Okay, so before we begin–" Hazel said. "Many of you know I wasn't in the city last night. Given the precariousness of our current situation, I traveled to neighboring cities, called in favors, trying to find help. Though I was not able to recruit anyone to our cause, I was able to find these."

Hazel took a velvet coin pouch out of her pocket and unsnapped the opening. This revealed a multitude of mint coins– half dollars.

"Wow," Rachel said. "Those are really rare. You scored."

"They're produced by one of my acquaintances, who can't use them herself." Hazel said. "You make a wish, and then flip the coin. If you call it right, your wish happens."

"And you can't just wish to," Jacinta said. "Disappear that witch over there."

"I doubt it." Hazel shook the pouch in her hands. "I have six here. We each get one, except for Maia."

"I don't mind," Maia grinned.

Hazel passed the pouch around, and they each took one. Lucia shuffled the coin in her palm– there was some faint tingling feeling, magical energy exciting her fingertips like static electricity.

"And, regarding the witch." Maia closed her eyes, tapping into the library of all possible knowledge contained in her head. "Everything's fine! The witch won't be hostile while we go in– it appears badly hurt.. That was you and Miss Steph yesterday, right Miss Lucia?"

"Uh… no?" Lucia said. "We didn't fight it. We left as soon as we saw it."

"Maybe it's… suicidal?" Jacinta mused. "Or something? All its power making it crazy? Yearning to feel something, anything?"

"Or maybe it's another magical girl," Madison said.

There was an awkward silence.

Maybe it was Steph, Lucia thought. Maybe she realized the error of her ways and she's in there teaching the witch not to mess with her city. Maybe body snatcher magi stumbled into its labyrinth and died fighting it. And maybe she'll get five more girls looking to join Pasadena today, and God Himself will descend from the heavens and smite down every witch in this city and life will go back to normal.

"Well," Hazel said. "Just be prepared for everything, I guess."

"Everyone gather around me," Maia declared. "I can't save your asses if you're like, five miles away."

No one argued. They huddled around Maia.

"We're going in."

Maia jumped inside the portal.

Lucia did too.