Marissa and I were two blots streaking across a sanguine sky.

It was a new experience for me. Even if my legally enchanted broomstick could propel itself when the situation demanded, it certainly didn't have the magical power to sustain itself over both long distances and high altitudes.

In this case, it was Marissa's prodigious talents which kept my broomstick afloat. Lacking a strong piece of rope to tie my broomstick to hers, she'd instead opted to zap mine. Now it functioned like a bouncy terrier that had far too much energy to stay anywhere near the ground.

Technically, we were breaking several laws regarding a non-witch's use of a commercial broomstick. However, since those laws were designed by witches to protect witchly interests, I felt that having a witch also break those same laws meant I was more or less immune to complaints.

In other words … a carte blanche to do what every person imagining themselves in the sky most wished.

“Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”

My hair flew behind me, then into my face as I performed a loop de loop.

I blew the fragile strands away from my mouth before it was once again waving behind me, a flag of silver cutting across the orange haze.

Easily staying by my side, Marissa's slight note of exasperation brought me out of my thrill seeking. I promptly pretended to look embarrassed. If only for a few moments.

Whatever she thought heroines were like, it probably didn't involve performing mid-air acrobatics. But I saw no reason why stunning high speed manoeuvres shouldn’t be part and parcel of this job.

There were deadlier and faster things than dragons roaming the skies, and opportunities to train was invaluable. I didn't want to be found lacking in my rapid descending and cornering skills when the most aggressive creatures in the universe, also known as seagulls, started tearing towards me.

“Where did you learn the Fabizby Manoeuvre?” asked Marissa, sounding both curious and impressed. “Did one of my peers teach you?”

“I have my secrets,” I answered, having no idea which cartwheel or upside-down flip I did was the Fabizby Manoeuvre.

Marissa nodded, respecting the apparent discretion I was showing.

“I like doing this the most,” I said, twisting repeatedly until I started barrel rolling.

Marissa's eyes lit up. Everybody loved barrel rolling. No exceptions.

“Ah. The Llantz Escape. A favourite among those with tailgaters to beat. The wind tunnel created by the drilling motion makes it difficult for those behind to settle into the broomstick's slipstream.”

I righted myself just as my eyes started seeing double the amount of clouds.

And then, as if the extensive rolling around had knocked my brain back into place, I realised that tumbling through the sky wasn't why I'd decided to skirt half a dozen aviation laws today.

Having exchanged farewells with the gracious Sir Arthur Tranlingway, the time had come to report my findings concerning the state of the witches and the matter of imminent doom to Duchess Cadence.

But before I did that, I needed to pay a visit back to the cafe.

As much as prophecies tended to be as reliable as a scratching post made out of tuna, the added image of coffee and poached eggs on toast was enough to prompt me to return to the Bread & Berry to make sure that nothing had turned to cinders.

And also that no demonic overlord was currently rising from the ashes.

It'd be terrible if the Next Great Evil had awoken while I was away. The health inspectors would be livid, and Madame Zaiba had only just finished paying for the refurbishment last week.

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I sped up a little more, especially as visibility was worsening by the minute. The light would be fully dim by the time we made it to Witschblume's outskirts, but that was as much to do with the veil of blue petals as it was with the sun setting.

A protracted shower of the stuff fell over us as we scooted under heavy cloud cover. It wasn't weighty, cold or physically uncomfortable like rain or sleet, but it was distracting nonetheless.

And just like that, the cartwheeling was over.

“The petals were only above Witschblume earlier,” I remarked, blinking away a stray that'd landed on my eyelashes.

Marissa considered the petals again, although with much less alarm than when the first ones began to rain above us.

“I have additional theories,” she replied. “If not a meteorological spell, it could simply be many spells. Perhaps this is magic dispersion in effect.”

“Magic dispersion?”

“It's extremely rare, given that it requires a significant gathering of magic users in one location, each casting spells in tandem. But records show that in previous large gatherings, the accumulation of magical energy was such that it physically warped the air.”

Now that was a sight I didn't know if I wanted to see or not. For one thing, I didn't know if witnessing the air being assaulted obligated me to do something about it.

Marissa hummed, then continued irrespective of whatever face I was making.

“The Archwitch Lucilla once theorised that should a critical mass ever be reached, physical space would collapse in on itself in order to accommodate so much magic … and then either instantly blow everything up or gently evaporate after essentially burning itself out.”

I wanted to believe in the version where the world had a built in safety lock against too much power in one go. Too many things exploded already. Although strangely not often around me.

Somewhere not here, equilibrium was being balanced. I apologised in my heart for whichever girl was suffering random explosions in my place.

“I wasn’t aware that enough magic piled up could result in it just fizzing out. Has this happened before?”

“Not to my knowledge. This is theoretical, which is to say, pure guesswork with not even the slightest anecdotal evidence. But Archwitch Lucilla was as keen a trailblazer as she was a darts player. Some of her theories, too, hit the mark.”

“I see. So if magic can evaporate, are you saying it can also rain?”

“Well, I believe Archwitch Lucilla was likely using the word evaporate poetically. What we're seeing is very much literal. But given magic's whimsical nature, I wouldn't discount anything.”

Whimsical was an apt description.

As far as I knew, there was no rhyme or reason to how magic really functioned. It just did. Or didn't, as was often the case.

Still, whatever these petals were, it was beyond anything either myself or the witch flying me knew about. But I wasn’t overly troubled by that. As was often the case, I suspected I'd only know the answer once it fell gift wrapped into my lap.

Well, that or a villain started delivering an opening speech.

But hopefully we weren’t there just yet.

I was still in my uniform. And when villains made the effort to dress for me, I really should return the thought.

***

Marissa dropped me off outside the cafe, trusting me to descend on my own to avoid the many questions about why a witch was tugging me along, including when they started offering that as a service and if a reservation was required.

Seeing that my parking spot was now being taken up by yet another flying carpet, I propped my broomstick beside the door to sort out later and headed inside.

To my joy and also mild horror, the only great evil to have awoken while I was gone was Tutu.

Being young, he should have been filled with boundless energy. Instead, he was content to lazily flap his wings while lounging on the cafe counter. Perhaps this flying tabby was the incarnation of sloth.

“Welcome back, Elise! Has the world gone poof yet?”

I was immediately treated to the sight of the next terror, that being Lize dressed up as a shady librarian while clearly taking my place in the book club. Wearing glasses that magnified her eyes several times over, she flashed a grin while hurriedly waving me over so we could begin the tussling.

Sat around her were the other members of the book club, drawn from wherever in the town a flyer for our cafe pronounced that members also got a 15% discount on food and drink purchases.

Yes.

For one more day, the world had not gone poof.

“Not yet,” I replied cheerily, heading over to fight for my chair. “Maybe tomorrow, though.”

“So just like normal?”

“Just like normal.”

“Great!” Lize picked up a plate sat ready on the coffee table. “Carrot cake?”

I smiled, scooping up Tutu from the floor as he immediately began heading over. If he wasn't going to learn how to expend calories, then he was going to need to learn about moderation.

“Yes, please.”