Kits felt like an easygoing person until they put her in a cage. Three walls of the cage were white and the fourth was a mirror. Whether that mirror went more than one way was up for debate, but Kits would guess it was double-sided. The ceiling was low. The space smelled like detergent and metal. Kaia would’ve had a better sense of nuance when it came to the smells, but she wasn’t here. She’d escaped, which left Kits alone in this little white room with nothing to do but seethe. She could melt her way out, probably, but the people who put her in here had a lot of guns, and Kits had a terrible track record against projectiles.

There was a door, but it was locked. Kits sat on a metal chair, which was bolted down, and had her elbows on a metal table, which was also bolted down. To amuse herself while she waited for something to happen, she imagined what the reactions of the humans who’d placed her here might be if she randomly decided to singe the table. Or freeze the chairs. Or thermal shock her way through the lock. She could. Being made of magic meant it would be easy, and she was bored, which made it tempting, but once again, guns. Bad track record with guns. Kits put her chin in her hands and blew purple strands of hair out of her face.

After an approximate eternity, a man in a suit entered. He sat at the chair across from Kits (yeah, that one’s bolted down too, she checked) and placed his arms on the table, fixing her with a stern expression.

“Hi,” said Kits.

He arched an eyebrow. He had dark caterpillar eyebrows. Kits imagined them wiggling to music and had to choke down a giggle.

“Remind me why you’re in here,” said the man.

“People shoved me through the door.”

His expression went flat.

“People shoved me through the door because I accidentally burned down a house. Which I apologized for.”

He blinked at her.

“And no one got hurt.”

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“The house got hurt.”

A jolt of adrenaline raised Kits’ temperature. “Houses are sentient here?” If that were true, she’d feel terrible. She didn’t think they were, given this was a human settlement and all, but anything was possible in the multiverse.

“No.” The man spoke slowly. Judgmentally. “Houses are not sentient.”

“Well that’s a relief.”

He made this face that made Kits think she might’ve short-circuited his brain. Maybe he was trying to figure out where to place her. She’d been in a lot of places where people didn’t know what to do with her.

“I also promised not to do it again,” said Kits.

“Someone has to pay for the property damage.” He hadn’t brought a folder or any papers with him—come to think of it, probably because those are flammable—so he must’ve memorized the exact cost. “Three hundred thousand dollars. Do you have three hundred thousand dollars?”

“I assume a dollar is currency.”

He made that blank face again. Now that she was paying closer attention, Kits noticed aggravation in the crease of his brow. His body temperature was rising too.

“I might have something to trade, but you took my Poc-Inv.”

“Your what?”

“Poc-Inv. It’s short for something but I’m not sure if it’s translatable into this language. It’s the thing that holds all my stuff. You took it when I went through that beeping doorway.”

“You mean the metal detector?”

“Yeah, that.”

“This thing, does it look like, uh.” He approximated a hexagon as best he could with his hands.

“That’s the one. There’s lots of valuables in there.”

He went silent for a second, hands still held out toward her in that bequeathing position as if he’d forgotten what he was doing. He had that face humans make when something dawns on them.

“What?” Kits leaned away from him and rested against the back of the chair. It wasn’t comfortable, but it wasn’t the worst place she’d ever sat.

“You’re not playing me.”

“Um. No.”

“You’re actually blue and you actually had no idea whether houses were sentient and you actually didn’t mean to burn that one down.”

“Why would I burn someone’s house down, anyway? It’s rude.”

He got up and made his way toward the door.

“Where’re you going?”

“I have to make a few calls.”

“I really didn’t mean it, y’know.”

“What?”

“Burning down the house. I tried not to.”

He turned to face her and lifted his eyebrows.

“I was kinda mad,” said Kits. “Emotions make my magic go everywhere. But I never want anyone to get hurt.” Unless they deserve it.

“Now there’s magic,” he muttered.

“Can I ask you something?”

“You just did.”

“Hah, hah. But can I?”

He circled his wrist at her.

“Have you seen a fox around?”

“Calls. I must make them.” He left.