“Sis! Are you ready for tonight?!” Olivia was breathing into the phone. Was she running?
“Yeah. I’m all set—just need to order dinner. Everything good with you?”
“Yeperooni! I’m just going for a jog. It’s so nice out now! April’s my favorite month…all the flowers! Well, not here in the city, because it’s nasty, but…around!”
Jacinta was reminded of the Arborem. The flowers in the garden, strange and impossible by Earthen standards, blooming around the garden where the seeds and saplings grew. She rubbed her temples, chuckling. “Last I remember, your favorite month was October. Because Halloween.”
It was a day of celebration and pride among supernaturals. Low-level magic, when used casually, (so…in only the rarest of cases) was legal. There was little judgment, where humans could dress up as the creatures they were always oh-so afraid of, oh-so ready to push down—
In theory. Aside from the candy and magic being extra potent on that night, the police and SEE were on high alert. Parties were always shut down, people taken. It wasn’t safe, no matter how much they convinced the public otherwise.
Their mom always used to do magic on Halloween. Olivia remembered it as fancy tricks—Jacinta knew the truth.
“Oh yeah! That was. But now I like it when it’s warm! I can go to the beach then. It’s still your favorite, right? You always do coolest things then. Do you know what you’ll be for Halloween?”
Jacinta raised a brow, checking the time and date on her phone screen. “It’s…April?”
“And?”
Jacinta paused, biting on her lip. “Y’know what…that’s a fair response. You win this round, Olivia. And I dunno…maybe something with antlers?”
“Ooo! They sell some cool ones online. They’re expensive, though…how does Gregory always do such cool stuff on you? What’s his secret? Those webbed fingers you had last year were so cool! You looked terrifying. And your wig! Ohmygosh—”
Jacinta chuckled awkwardly, standing, moving to rearrange the old cushions on the couch. She thought back. Greg and the coven all worked together to do a pirate and mermaid-themed Halloween; transfiguration magic. Jacinta was a siren that night—sharp teeth, webbed half-scaled limbs, gills (but still with lungs, of course). She looked better underwater.
And she couldn’t stop eating sushi for a few weeks afterward. God, it bore such a hole in her wallet…at least she offset it with as many cans of tuna that a few dollars could buy.
“You know Gregory. He’s magical.” Jacinta joked, rolling her eyes.
Olivia snorted. “I still think he’s a,” she dropped her voice after taking a breath, “witch. Or warlock. What’s the difference again? You like all that weird magic stuff.”
“It’s all semantics. Cultural differences, usually.”
“Right, right. But my point still stands. And the twins in your totally-not-illegal-to-host-DnD group, they’re kinda weird. They remind me of fairies.”
One was a changeling, one a human. Close enough.
Jacinta shifted the phone to her other shoulder. “Alright, we’ll talk supernatural and magic stuff when you get here if you want. You know that they can tap into our phones.”
“Literally so stupid, I do—oh wow that’s such a cute dog! Alright I need to go and pet it. It’s so fluffy! Not as cute as Oregon though.”
Jacinta shook her head. “Don’t worry—you’re not on speaker. Oregon can’t hear you.”
But Olivia wasn’t listening, nor had she ended the call. She was showering the dog with praise and squeezing its cheeks and going crazy, as usual.
“Great. I’ll see you soon. When? Great question, Jacinta. Thanks.” She mumbled to herself, ending the call, chuckling. Up next: Gregory.
It rang and rang. Voice message.
“Hey you. Yeah, you. I’ve got such a busy, fantastic, wonderful, amazing, exciting life that I’m currently unavailable to take your call, but if you’re important enough, I’ll call or text back later. Cool? Cool.”
The voicemail message always made her laugh. “Hey, Gore—I have some updates for you. And some…kinda crazy news. And a chance to—” she remembered the instances of phone lines being tapped remotely, supernaturals being caught, recorded. Breach of privacy? No, not when ‘public safety’ was on the line. Shit, Olivia mentioned DnD before. It was illegal, but not…generally too enforced. “Eh, just call me when you can. I’m watching some show with my sister tonight, so we’re planning on catching up. I hope you’re doing okay. Same with your arm. I’ll send you a photo of Oregon later.”
She ended the call, ordered the food, left to pick it up. The bodegas were run by supernaturals, more often than not, but they had to keep the magic out of the public view. Graffiti was unenchanted; vinyl awnings, not sewn with protective wards. They’d be tagged, torn—shop owners taken in-turn.
So magic was underground. Passage Portals instead, secret spots, hidey holes—little spaces carved out of New York City to have supernaturals, and only supernaturals, live and thrive. Jacinta’s first was at Doña Francesca. She’d lived most of her life parallel to humans, along their rules—no need to end up like her mom. Gregory pulled her deeper and deeper into their world…and with it, more magic.
Jacinta couldn’t lie: she wanted to see more.
She spun the Ring of Mana, inhaling the scent of hot dogs. The owner of the food cart waved to her; she grinned and waved back. Her thoughts drifted back to Silas. He thought of her as a witch, nothing more. So…she’d use that to her advantage.
She’d be the witch that he thought she was…and give him all the wrong information. Yeah.
In return for her, Gregory’s, and Doña’s safety.
Jacinta walked the next block and turned the corner. Warming spices—cumin, cardamom; her stomach growled. She swallowed, stifled her hunger, and entered The One-Eyed Greek.
It was a crowded, small restaurant. Fresh pitas being stuffed. Owners—two brothers, tall and broad-shouldered and built like Zeus statues—smiled and waved. They both were a quarter cyclops; they had one eye in one of the two standard human (or biclops, as they joked) eye-holes; the other was unformed, just a slight divot in the skin. For Stereo, his right eye was missing; for Bronte, his left eye. They were tall and large, but not overwhelmingly so—able to pass as bodybuilders, ex-football players (and they were both). While they always appreciated and treated their supernatural customers well, they were passing, safe.
Though the “one drop of magic in the blood” rule still applied, as it had to Black Americans in the “One Drop Rule.” Beliefs still held.
But the restaurant was thriving, at least.
Patrons mostly had their food to go; one woman was nibbling on a thick triangle of spanakopita wrapped in blue-white checkerboard parchment paper. She exited, humming.
“Ey, Jace!” Bronte called, waving, grinning.
“Hey!” She said, sucking in a breath, trying to cheer herself up. Their goofy grins helped. “How are you both doing?”
“Good as good can be! We got a new spicy sauce if you’re interested—tirokafteri. You like feta, yes? We know you like spice!” Ster asked. Bronte stepped to get a little plastic container and a triangle of the pita; she took a scoop, obliging. It was delicious. She hummed and grinned.
“Delicious. Love the tang. Lemon?”
They both nodded. “The usual? Your sister want the same, too?”
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Jacinta said yes; one brother rushed off to prepare their meals. She eyed the menu. Their prices had risen a dollar, even two. Her expression fell.
“We keep prices the same for you, Jace. No worries.”
Her gaze dipped, cheeks warming. “No, I can pay, it’s no pro—”
“We keep prices the same for you.” He said with a warm smile. Jacinta’s shoulders dipped. She combed a hand through her hair, shifting her stance.
“Thanks, Bronte. Really. You’re too good to me.”
Charisma experience level raised by 5%.
Experience remaining until next point increase: 85%.
“You bring us more of those magic cookies and we stay good.” He winked, grinning, and rang her order up. “My wife eats them all when I bring them home. No cookies left for me.”
“Or me!” Ster called from the back. He returned with a to-go bag in-hand, plastic smiley face grinning back at her.
She paid, thanked them, said she’d bring more cookies later, and walked home. Okay. She tried to remember everything that she needed to do. Silas. Doña.
Tomorrow. She wouldn’t seem needy.
Did Doña even have a will? How would that even—
Jacinta propped her back against the table and rubbed her eyes, thinking. She checked the time on her phone. 6:50. Perfect; Olivia would be there soon.
She changed into pajamas, left food out for Oregon, and went to the door—knock. Perfect timing. She opened it; there Olivia was, immediately rushing to pull Jacinta into a tight squeeze.
Jacinta laughed and patted Olivia on the back. “Alright, there goes my ribcage…”
“Oh, c’mon, you big baby.” Olivia let go, setting her hands on her hips. She was taller, leaner, longer—like Jacinta but stretched, pulled upward. She had a youthful, bright face, with large, doe-like brown eyes. Her braids fell to her knees. “Always complaining. You love my hugs.”
“Fine. On the hug-loving—I do not complain. That’s slander.” She huffed and shut the front door, pulling Olivia to the kitchen table. They ate, spoke—Olivia told Jacinta about Emmy, her family. She showed her the phone case.
“That’s pretty.” Jacinta noted, shaking it. The silver sparkles swirled galactic. She kept her smile, forced it high—and slid the phone back before frowning.
“Wait—did you get—”
Olivia chuckled, rubbing the back of her neck, gaze dodging Jacinta’s face. “Yeah…they got me a new phone. Not new-new, but at least it’s not, um—” she stopped herself. “Well. It was their treat.” She snatched the phone back, slipping it on her lap, under the table.
Jacinta stared blankly for a few moments. She cleared her throat and bit the edge of her lip, smiling. “That’s really generous of them. I want the best for you, so—I’m happy. I’m not sad about that, y’know; I’m just sad I can’t—”
“I know.” Olivia waved a hand. “Anywayyy…when I come back, make sure to have some treats for Emmy and her family. Deal?” Jacinta opened her mouth to say something, but Olivia didn’t give her a chance to interject. She clapped. “Alright. So. Magic. You said we were gonna talk magic.”
Jacinta sighed and made a ‘go-ahead’ gesture, swallowing some pita and hummus. “What do you want to know? No, none of my friends are supernaturals. You know I want to keep my life as uncomplicated as possible.”
Olivia gave her a deadpan look, brow raised.
Ouch.
“I try.” And look at how far that got her…
“Your ex was a werewolf.”
“Lobizona. There’s a difference. And we weren’t really dating; she and I just went on…what, two dates? And it was a year ago. Why are you bringing this up?”
Olivia chuckled, eyes bright. “I’m invited to a party tomorrow. With magic. It’s in some hidey-hole place…I wanted to ask if you have any experience. With that.”
Jacinta’s chest tightened. She swallowed, sighed. Her breath rattled from her lungs. She didn’t tell her the truth. But if Olivia was around supernaturals and she had latent magic, even if it was inactive…then she’d find out. And—
“Yes. Kinda. But you can’t go to that. Alright?”
Olivia frowned, brows furrowing. “What? Why?”
“You know how SEE is! Do you want to be killed?”
“I’m human! I’ll be fiiiiine. Ohmygosh—look. This super cute guy’s bringing me there. He’s a merman. Like Aquaman, but actually cool.”
Jacinta’s heart was sinking. She shook her head, fingers scratching against the table. Oh God, not this too…
“I said no. And that’s final. They’re taking humans too…and anyway, look at us! We tick one of their boxes. That’s enough.” She pointed to her skin. Olivia’s tone was lighter; more gold than copper. She was liminal—white enough, human enough.
At least, by sight.
But liminal wasn’t safe enough. It wasn’t secure.
Maybe the Atlas could tell her how Olivia would show up? She mentally asked the Atlas to pull up Olivia’s stats.
Name:
Olivia Maria Carter Suárez
Age:
18
Race:
50% human, 50% witch (blood witch sub-classification)
[[view lineage]]
Alignment:
Neutral Good
Physical Health Points:
70/70
[[view health conditions]]
Strength:
12
Agility:
17
Dexterity:
15
Intelligence:
10
Wisdom:
8
Willpower:
12
Charisma:
16
Luck:
12
Mana:
7/7
Magical Skill:
Extremely low; negligible.
Untrained magic.
Magical Abilities:
[[Click for more details]]
-Magical charm
-Magical timing
-Potential to spellcast: low.
Racial Traits:
-10% accelerated healing rate
-Mana regeneration rate: 1 mana/5 mins passively; 1 mana/1 minute while sleeping; meals boost mana
-Allergies to copper, shellfish, liver, lentils, and blood.
Experience:
[[Indexing…]]
So she read as half-witch.
One drop of blood…
“I’m not losing you too.” Jacinta leaned forward, reached out, and grabbed Olivia’s hands, squeezing them tightly. “Got it? It’s not safe for us.”
Olivia’s eyes widened. She stared up, lips pinched. “What—what happened?” She could tell. She knew something was wrong.
Jacinta hesitated, blinking quickly, before sliding back into her seat. She wouldn’t tell her about Doña. About their mother. About her. About their magic. No.
A migraine was building in her skull. She rubbed her temples, sighing, curled forward. “I…I just want to have an easy night with you, Olivia. Por favor, manita. I’m exhausted. I…I’ll tell you later, but please, please promise me that you’re not going to go tomorrow. It’s not safe for us, and I…I just have an awful feeling. Okay?”
She held out a hand, pinky extended. Her head continued to throb. Jacinta waited; Olivia hesitated, but looped her pinky through, finger against finger, sister to sister.
“I…I promise. Do you promise to tell me everything later?”
Jacinta nodded, twisting her lips to a strong, firm smile.
“I will. I promise.”
Olivia let go. Jacinta retreated her hand and reached for her cup of water. It trembled in her grip; she spilled a little along her face, but continued to swallow. The water tasted acrid. Bile bubbling down, no, no—
She was fine. They were fine.
Jacinta would be honest. Later.
“Thank you. I love you more than anything…I just don’t want you to get hurt.” Jacinta paused, trying to think of what else to say. Right. “So. Tell me about Mr. Aquaman.”