Written: 11/18/24
Word Count: 2,434

Talia met my gaze. "It sounded like the air was crying." They steeled themself, and I wondered how this was going to get even worse than it already was. Fear and anticipation whirled in my gut, and I dared not even blink. "We went back to that alley, and I let the harmonies wash over me—the fabric. I immersed myself in it. It's—if you're not a witch, it's hard to—"

"Don't worry about it," I said, holding up a hand. "I don't need you to try to explain something I'll never understand."

Talia nodded. "I needed to heal the damage. It required a reverse summoning. Nobody was pulling him back from the other side, so that makes it challenging. Usually, summoning spells across vast distances have two groups of summoners that work in tandem towards the same goal. But this was a different universe. To patch it up, I needed to create a new reality. By reversing the summoning spell, I was shoving him back through the exact same path he'd taken to get to this world. He needed to go back the same way, where my music could follow him and seal the damage to all the worlds in between. The holes the High Priestess and the Third Degree had made."

I let her gather her thoughts for a beat, then asked, "Did it work?"

They nodded. "Yeah."

"So why are you still here? It didn't work on you?"

Talia's shoulders bunched up. "My plan had been to enter as the final piece, sealing everything up behind me. I hadn't intended to make Tomura the new fabric. But..."

"But?"

"They found us." Talia shrugged. "And I had to send everything in me to get him out of there as fast as I could. In the process, I lost—everything." They met my gaze. "I don't have my magic anymore. When I said I couldn't help you, I meant I literally could not help you. Not anymore."

I covered my mouth with a hand. The shock was visceral. I felt like a flag on a pole being torn every which way.

"I'm sorry," I eventually said, hiding behind my hands. I felt them, then.

The tears.

"I'm so sorry," I cried, turning away from Talia completely. How embarrassing. It was obvious that I was crying. What was the use in trying to hide it now?

"Gracie?" Talia's heavy voice followed me. "What's wrong? I didn't think—I didn't know you would cry."

"I'm sorry," I repeated, walking around the bench. My eyes were covered, and I could hear Talia's footsteps clacking on the pavement behind me. This was a recipe for disaster, but I was stuck in utter humiliation mode. I couldn't stop now, not when there was yet more embarrassment to be had.

Talia ended up in front of me, monkeying over the bench to cut me off before I made another lap. "Gracie? Are you okay?"

"I'm sorry," I said, stubbornly holding my hands before my eyes. "I'm just being stupid and selfish right now," I said, my words stringing together thick and indistinct. "I'm so sorry."

A hint of amusement lightened Talia's tone. "What do you have to be sorry for?" An awkward chuckle. "It's not like you did anything to me."

"I made you relive all of that," I threw out a hand, gesturing in the opposite direction of where we'd had our chat, "for nothing! Because nothing can be done. Where do I go from here? What am I even doing? I don't know anything. I just knock on doors and poke holes into people, expecting miracles. But that's just because I can't—I can't do anything else." I broke down then.

Soft, tentative hands found their way to my shoulders, and then I was wrapped in a willowy hug. Talia's skin smelled like chalk and oils, like they'd just gotten done painting a masterpiece. What kind of musician smelled like this?

The sobbing grew worse. I was no longer in control, so I had no choice but to give in.

"I can't listen to music anymore," Talia said, and now she was crying. "I can't hear it—any of it. It's gone. The magic is gone. The music...is gone. And I failed. I'm still here. I don't even know if I sent him home safely. I betrayed his trust, and I ended up all alone. You're—you're not like me. You think knocking on doors is all you can do? Bella told me about how you walked into the Wolf Den and challenged her head-on. She told me you've been taking care of the Select."

Talia's voice grew as difficult to understand as mine. My hands snaked out to wrap around wind-chilled skin. I grabbed on tight, pulling the taller person into my arms. So young, not even an adult, and already filled with so much sadness.

And their magic...what were the chances of there being other young witches with a lifetime of potential having their magic snuffed out, just like that?

Talia was a silent hero. Someone who did the right thing despite the loneliness eating away at them.

They were a survivor.

"I don't know how to help them," I confessed, the words calmer now, though still clogged with wetness. "What do I do?"

Talia pulled back enough to see my face. Their gaze was solemn, dark irises untouched by the wind curling the ends of our hair and fluttering our clothes. We were both dressed too lightly for this wintery blast. Talia wore a halter top, for goodness' sake!

"We find their notes," she said grimly. "Then, we threaten them. If they were to be exposed to the rest of the coven..."

"You think the coven would go against their High Priestess?" I frowned.

Talia's mouth twisted in thought. "The riskier the spell, the more chances there are to be discovered. I'm not sure the non-magical world will...ever be ready for us...witches."

That was...certainly a possibility.

"Could the rest of your coven even stand up to your leader? Is that okay?"

"It isn't about blind faith." Talia blinked. "It's not a religion."

Subconsciously, we both began to move off the pavement, heading back to the motorcycle and leaving the African American statue behind.

"Oh," I said, feeling quite dumb. But how could I feel dumb asking a question I couldn't possibly know the answer to?

The sun peeked out from the clouds, blinding us in its brilliance. It had been hiding away for days as fall and winter clouds blocked out all the warmth. My retinas burned even more fiercely when stuck on the back of a motorcycle. Add to that the post-crying ache, and I felt like a tumbleweed that had blown all over kingdom come.

I was in severe need of a nap.

"The Coven is a way of life," Talia explained. "If even one piece threatens that life—and threatens the lives of the witches living in it—then they won't stay quiet."

"So we just...expose them?" I asked, fitting my arms back around Talia's waist. I didn't hesitate this time. Her stomach was cold against my hands, so I tried to wrap my sweatshirt sleeves around as much skin as I could.

How was she not just freezing her ass off? Or shivering too much to drive properly?

"Hopefully," Talia said, voice muffled from the wind and the engine of Bella's speedster, "we won't have to."

I had my doubts.

"And how will we even steal this information?" I thought about Kakashi. Now that he'd chosen to work with Patty, was he being used as some type of guard or a spy? Would he try to stop us if he thought we were going to steal something?

Maybe we should just let him handle it. Maybe we would only be getting in his way...

Maybe he really doesn't want our help, and that's why he left. Not because we were in danger, not because he was worried, but because...we held him back too much. He would never get home if he relied on us.

"Gracie?" Talia called, and I realized I had been stuck in my head for the entire trip back.

Durall's thick-browed mascot smirked winningly down from the sign above our heads. Somehow, the marketers had designed a washing machine with more charm than most men I'd met in real life.

I clambored off the motorcycle, only to jump back in surprise as two sets of eyes peered at me like lost dogs from the automatic doorway. Sam and Kirishima rushed outside dragging bags and bins of neatly-folded laundry. I grimaced at the sight—didn't they know the clothes would get all messed up as soon as we put them in the car?

"You were gone for so long!" Sam complained, dropping one bag filled with sheets onto the ground.

Kirishima lugged a towering pile of open bins balanced on his shoulders. He hadn't been training to be a hero for long, but Kirishima had always found working out interesting. His shoulders were much fuller than most kids' his age. Especially from around here.

Inside, I saw another person leaning against the doorway, just far enough away not to trigger the open sensor. Bella met my gaze, then whirled around, stalking further into the laundromat's body.

Well. I guess I wasn't going to talk to her again today.

"Are you alright to be here?" I asked Talia, remembering how they'd explained they were practically a fugitive on the run from their own people. The worker at the laundromat had already seen them, but it was only now that I realized we could have returned into a trap.

What was Bella thinking, parading Talia around for all the world to see?

"Why wouldn't she be?" Sam blinked innocently up at us. Her neck had to crane backwards to peer up at Talia's tallness.

"I'll be okay," Talia said. I didn't sense any fear in them; rather, her vibe came off more confident than anything. "We'll reach out when the ceremonies start taking place."

I straightened up a bit at that. "Ceremonies?"

Sam's face froze, and I got the distinct impression that she was a deer in headlights.

But Talia's expression turned knowing as she tilted her head in Sam's direction. "You're in luck that we have winter coming around the corner. There are lots of spells to be done before the harsh season comes. Food preservation, health potions, and enchanted shovels, to name a few. The High Priestess usually oversees all of these ceremonies, and many witches take place in them. There's power in numbers—much easier to create an enchantment with others than by yourself."

I think I was catching on. "So, Patty will be busy. Which will give us time to..."

"Time to do what?" Sam narrowed her eyes, and I gauged Talia's face, before saying, "I'll tell you later."

The teen huffed, whirling away and dragging the bag of sheets to my Jeep. I rolled my eyes, turning back to the person I had just had a life-altering conversation with. A sudden awkwardness pulled at my limbs—limbs that still wanted a nap. But before I could mosy my way through a weird goodbye, Kirishima spoke.

"Do you have a work out regime?"

I could have laughed. I wasn't sure if Talia knew who this teenager was, but I figured they probably did. Talia was—what, seventeen? Still a child herself, yet even more on her own than Sam.

What was with these witches leaving young kids to their own devices?

Talia's grin turned even more charming. On that androgynous face, it definitely didn't look feminine. Rather, there was a genderless quality to that smile. I wondered if I thought that because they'd told me they were non-binary, or if anyone would feel that way if they saw it.

"I run," Talia admitted. "I don't do much else." Unspoken were the words: because I'm scared of being discovered.

I wondered what life must be like for this teenager who couldn't even pursue a high school degree for fear of what her community leaders would do to her.

Meanwhile, Sam was a lifeboat adrift at sea, loosely connected to a yacht on a pleasure ride. But in the raft, the turbulence could not only be felt, but seen.

So then, what about Bella? How had her leaders failed her? What invisible crosses does she bear? Talia informed me it was Bella's father who was the witch. Bella herself had made mention of debts her father owed.

I doubt she would ever tell me, even if I asked.

"Awesome," Kirishima said, eyes lit up with infectious enthusiasm. "Do you run with weights? What's your 100-meter time?"

Leaving the fitness experts alone for a moment, I placed a hand on Talia's shoulder.

"Thanks for everything," I said, trying not to cringe through my sincerity. "We'll be in touch."

Before I could leave, however, Talia reached out, nabbing my hand midair. "Everything's going to be okay, Gracie. We'll help you."

I blinked at that, wondering if by "we" she was including Bella. And if so, then Talia was sorely mistaken. Bella had made it clear that she would not be helping us.

But I just smiled, knowing I was still in charge of two teenagers' welfare and completely on my own for tracking down Kakashi. To add robbery on top of that—and not just robbery, but theft against people who had magic—even I knew to call it quits while I was ahead. Nobody was hurt—yet.

I'd just leave Kakashi to it. He didn't need my help.

There was nothing I could do by myself, anyway.

I walked to my Jeep, piling more laundry inside. My heart was a little full at the thought of the kids folding these five bags of clothes and towels. They didn't go out of their way to clean, but when presented with no other alternative, they did it without complaint.

Next challenge: dishes.

My back was turned to the laundromat when I heard the automatic doors slide open with a low, mechanical hum.

Then a voice whispered near the back of my neck, "Harvest Moon's on the 13th. We make our move while everyone's at the bonfire."

When I turned, I saw a jean jacket walking away from me, loose brown curls stuck in the hard collar and spilling out like the froth from a root beer float.

The 13th?

Sam met my eyes in the rearview mirror, just a streak of light against her glasses. She burrowed into her flannel, staring out the window at a receding silhouette whose intentions filled us with only more questions.