The library was a place of wonder, but when Ant left her in the children’s section surrounded by head-height shelves of picture books, Donner about lost it.

“MotherFUCKER! Nothing, and I mean absolutely nothing, in this place is worth a pile of dog shit! Can I have nothing? Not one single moment where something goes right? NOTHING?!”

It was the latest in a string of disappointments and while in no way the most severe, especially as he didn’t think they’d find anything worthwhile, it was one too many. So, while he was having a breakdown, Luna devised a plan to get away from the stories about cats and their shoes.

There were many children in the room, but none of them appeared to have a measurable degree of sense. They were wandering around in a daze or else sitting on carpet, or in a chair their parents placed them in, mindlessly turning pages back and forth. Some chewed the edges of books; some banged the tables. All in all, she didn’t have a lot to work with.

Trying to knock over a shelf proved to be a time waster. The things were bolted to the floor and wall to prevent such an ‘accident’. Telling a child another kid said something mean about them, in hopes of provoking a fight, didn’t work either; they were too dumb to understand the implications of whispered insults.

What she needed to do was get all adult attention directed to a spot far from the entrance. This place had watchers stationed by the doorway and within the room as well, to keep an eye on all the little imbeciles and they could see almost everything because of how short the shelves were.

There was nowhere to hide.

Donner, while in the throes of a minor breakdown, was not completely unaware of Luna’s thought processes and even though he knew there wasn't much chance they would find anything useful, he was desperate enough to try that he made a decision he was hoping to stave off. Rationally, it was coming whether he did anything about it or not, and it was better to have some control over the situation. He wasn’t sure how her body was going to handle the change as it was; the rapid pace at which the mist was filling her mind made him uneasy. If he didn’t do it now it would happen soon regardless.

“There’s no way to move their attention in the natural,” he told her. “You’re too small, they were too careful with the room design, and though you’re freakishly intelligent for your age none of the other little brats are. You’ll have to do something else.”

“Like what?”

“You were trying to make one of the shelves fall, weren’t you? Well, try again. Not with your hands, but with your mind.” He could feel her skepticism. It stood before him, arms crossed, and eyebrows raised. “Magic, you idiot. Use magic!”

“I don’t know any magic tricks.” Which he should have known since he lived inside her head.

“People are using magic all the time,” he told her. “Even normal people and you are far from normal.” A sigh the size of Antarctica. “Do you remember the nurse you saw when you were in the hospital? The first person you saw after you woke up?”

She thought back to the woman with short hair. “What about her?”

“She left almost immediately after coming into the room and seeing the mess you’d made. Later on, while you were eating dinner that same day, she was on the news. She’d been arrested for abandoning her post.”

“So? Who cares about that?”

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“She cast a spell on herself that led to the arrest.”

While interesting, Luna couldn’t remember seeing a wand or a vial or hearing chanting with bones and feathers and sparkles. “I didn’t see that.”

“Of course you didn’t, what you think is magic and reality are two very different things. Of course, the powers that be would like you to keep your impression, but I won’t allow it and what she did was cast a spell on herself. A spell born of bitterness and jealousy. It was easy to see and so very common,” he spoke with a sneer. “And then it was sealed with the death of a child and she will fall further than she ever thought possible.”

“What exactly did she do? How can you tell?”

“A spell of the mind cast upon oneself is the simplest of all. Consider a matter over and over and over again, grow weary and angry and resentful. Look at others and believe in your heart that they have never been so downtrodden as yourself. Hold yourself up in your mind on the pillar of the oppressed and you will find that you are, but it is not due to anyone else. People will never blame themselves. They will find an out. The mirror is their worst enemy. That is what she did. She took negative experiences and piled them high, turned to those beside her, and blamed them. Jealousy grew and so did self-importance. Poison she drank willingly, made by her own hands.” He was almost delighted by it. The easiest method of control. One word was all it took to set a self-perpetuating spell in motion. A single look at the right person, someone weak and already seeking a reason to pity themselves, and if you played your cards right, choose the right human, you could topple nations. “How can I see it? By using the power I have and I’ve found it in your mind,” more like it was unmistakable but he didn’t need her getting a big head about it. “What you need to do, however, is not as simple. This is physical.”

“Can you read minds?” Was that how he knew what the nurse was thinking? How he knew she was so bitter and angry?

He hesitated. “In a manner of speaking, but one did not need to practice the arts to read her. She was screaming it herself for all to hear. Most can’t hear it so clearly, but she was loud and so obvious that she drove away those who had even a passing glance. You hardly pay attention to anyone and have little experience in the world, but soon you too will sense the truth of people. That, however, is not the issue now. We need to get out of this room. Turn your head so I can see.”

A furtive glance was all it took for him to pinpoint a target. A child her size sitting close to a shelf, paying no mind to the world, a book in hand and a thumb in the mouth. He directed her to sit on the opposite side, to take a book too, and to pretend to be looking at it while concentrating on the bolts.

“What you need to do is unscrew the thing. It’s not that it’s hard, but I wouldn’t choose this for your first encounter with magic. In any case, this is where we are and we must do what needs to be done. There’s no telling when the child will move, they have such short attention spans, and we’ve already been stymied for ten minutes so let’s get on with it. What you need to do is take the mist and use it.”

“What mist?”

“It’s here in your mind. There’s enough that you should be able to feel it. Consider it. Think of it. Like the woman soon to rot in prison, cast a spell that will allow you to access it. It isn’t a mist, but that is the form it now takes, before you’ve used and converted it.” He grew impatient. “Don’t make me try to blow it into the back of your eyes because I will.”

Neither of them thought that would work.

With a deep breath Luna closed her eyes, head down so it would seem she was simply looking at her chosen book about farm animals and the unhelpfulness of neighbors, and tried to find the mist he said was inside her mind. She told herself it was there, that it must be, that Donner had found it and so could she.

And there it was.

“Now use it,” he commanded. “Take hold of it and remove the bolts. Quietly and quickly. Magic, at its heart, isn’t as difficult as most think. Want the thing done and believe you can do it.”

It was even easier than he’d made it sound. She looked at the silver and watched it unscrew, all eight heads came undone.

“Now put your book back and walk away. Go to a shelf near the entrance.” Far from the scene of the soon-to-be 'accident', he gave the order, “Push it over.”

Every grownup gasped in horror, but Luna didn’t stick around to see the damage. The kid was crying and therefore not dead. Surprised, sure, but not badly harmed.

Even if he was, they had more important things to do.