“I am not leaving without Betsy and Max.” Emilia folded her arms to lend finality to her pronouncement.

Cary bit her lip and considered her options. She could use the lever of the master-servant bond to force Emilia to comply, but to do so would fundamentally change the nature of their relationship. Besides, that was what Elelele would have done.

Sophistry it was then.

“I want to be clear:” Cary pointed out toward the hallway where Cynthia might appear any moment from now. “Your Godmother’s master is a being I fear. It is a being all among demonkind fear. Only fools and the suicidal court its notice or its fury.”

“You’re scared. I get that…”

Cary blew her breath out her nose and tried to refocus. “You want your friends to accompany us. Fine. Let’s go get them.” Emilia unfolded her arms as if she’d won. Cary wasn’t done yet. “But if they refuse, we must leave. To remain is far too dangerous.”

Pleading was beneath Cary’s dignity. But she prepared herself for it. Fortune favored her as Emilia nodded. “Fine. But you have to tell them what you told me.”

Compromise. It felt odd and Cary wasn’t certain she enjoyed the savor. But it might have saved her new apprentice. Her first apprentice.

Leading the way down the hall, Cary surveyed the locale with her nose and with her ears tipped for the first possible alert for Cynthia. But the downstairs was as silent as their floor. If Cynthia were here, she lurked down below keeping her presence hidden from Cary. If she’d possessed her own magic, or if Emilia had advanced far enough in her studies, Cary would have committed a Sending to her investigation.

Instead she bearded the lion in its den. Rather, the pig in her sty.

Few things the porcine mortal sorceress could muster threatened Cary, so she led the way downstairs as well. At the bottom of the flight, Cary pressed her ear to the door and waited with her hand up. Emilia rolled her eyes, though she didn’t press Cary to hurry either. As if she understood how much danger Cynthia represented as well as Cary did.

A few quiet voices reached Cary’s ear through the hollow stout wooden door. But none of those belonged to Cynthia. Or Melezereth.

Cary pressed her hand on the handle of the door, but Emilia stopped her. She whispered as she said, “You can’t go out there like that.”

Twitching, Cary found herself irritated at her apprentice’s presumption. “Unless you know some defensive magic I am unaware of,” Cary skimmed Emilia’s memory and confirmed her belief, “which you do not, then there are no further preparations for us to make.”

Rolling her eyes, Emilia waved her hands up and down toward Cary, “no, I mean you can’t go out there like that. You look like a cosplayer.”

If she hadn’t already been crimson, Cary might have conveyed her embarrassment through the blush in her cheeks. She closed her eyes and visualized the form she’d taken before shattering on the sidewalk in front of Samantha’s building. That was an experience Cary would have preferred to purge from her perfect recall. A shimmering took hold of her flesh and she reverted only her skin color. This degree of control was something Cary had never enjoyed in her life. If she earned this as a result of deepening her bond with Emilia, Cary could not wait to further the bond.

“This is acceptable.” Cary nodded her head, but Emilia shook her own.

“It’s just wrong that you wear my clothes better than I do.”

If they continued their conversation in these cramped quarters, someone would come looking for them. Or Cynthia would catch them where they could not easily escape.

Cary peeked through a crack in between the door and frame to find Betsy with her head tilted onto its side staring at her. “Who are you and what are you doing…” She shoved Cary aside and lunged for Emilia. “You’re here! And you’re alive!” Defensive instincts kicked in and Cary started to slam Betsy into the wall until she wrapped Emilia up in a hug. Relaxing as much as she was able, Cary pushed out of the stairwell into the shop where Max ushered a small collection of teenagers through various fake magical accoutrement. All four of them stared back at Betsy’s eruption.

In a way, Cary appreciated the outburst. If Cynthia had been present, she would have announced herself right away. The fact she didn’t meant that Cary and Emilia were clear of the sorceress for the time-being.

Emilia explained their situation to Betsy and Max once the small group of adolescents left the store. “…so we have to get out of here before Cynthia gets back. Or else her scary demon patron will cook us alive and eat us. Or something.”

“Who is this demon patron anyway?” Betsy leaned against a display case, no sense of urgency about her. She obviously didn’t believe Cary or Emilia.

Cary answered. “A prince among the Infernals. Few outrank Cynthia’s master.”

“No, I mean what’s their name?”

Emilia held her arms up in an shrug. Cary said, “to speak their name is to invite their attention and their presence. We do not want that to happen.”

“Maybe we should do what she says…” Max held his hands out and pointed to the store. “It’s not like we owe Cynthia anything. And I don’t want to be stuck tending a fake magic store for the rest of my life.”

Betsy ground her teeth as she looked between her brother and her best friend. Cary understood the relationship between Emilia and Betsy after searching Emilia’s memory. Emilia’s first kiss had been “practice” with the other woman. The whole idea, duplicitous as it was, amused Cary when she’d found the episode.

This world was steeped in madness.

“I have to finish school still guys.” Betsy pointed out to where Cynthia had taken the store’s automobile. “Cynthia’s still my legal guardian. You guys could get in trouble for kidnapping.”

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“What do you mean?” Emilia asked her question while Max glowered; he knew about this already.

“Cynthia.” Betsy murmured as she stared at the ground. “She threatened me a few months ago when she found me packing a go bag. She said she’d call the police first thing and use magic to find us. She has our blood, she can do it.”

Cary ground her teeth now. Until Betsy mentioned it, she hadn’t considered that possibility. In the Infernim, blood would have been used to compel or to harm, not just as a means of location. Not unless the offender stole something the previous owner wished returned. The amount and age of the blood hardly mattered for the purposes of location magic. Only extremely old blood, or blood that was tainted in some way would fail.

Cynthia had a ready supply of fresh blood from her victims. And no amount of cramming would give Emilia the skills to block a blood trace, not before Cynthia could cast and follow the trail with ease.

“Then we will have to deal with the police when and if they become a problem.” The other three stared at Cary’s declaration with surprise evident on their faces. It made Cary feel the need to explain herself. “There is no way to foil location magic in time unless the source is tainted. And we have no way of finding her stash.”

Emilia put her finger on her chin. “Don’t we?”

“Explain.” Cary wondered what her apprentice would volunteer.

“I mean, we have our own blood, can’t we use that to find Cynthia’s samples?”

Cary laughed and threw her head back. This apprentice was a tremendous catch. The others looked at her askew, as if they couldn’t fathom the source of her mirth. Or found some reason it was inappropriate.

“I did not consider that possibility. It amused me.” Cary brushed her hands down the front of Emilia’s borrowed blouse. She’d never felt the need to explain herself to others before, much less mortals. Throwing off the unfamiliar sensation, Cary straightened herself up and added. “There is the chance that Cynthia carried a vial of your blood with her. In that event, the tracking spell will avail us not.”

“Except that it will tell us where she is.” Again, Cary wanted to pat her apprentice on the head. Or perhaps give her some kind of sweet treat. Whatever good masters did to encourage their pupils.

“Then let us be quick about this.” She pointed between Betsy and Max, who’s talents were not as strong as Emilia’s but who’d been trained for longer. “Do either of you know any basic location spells?” They shook their heads and Cary sighed. It would have been too easy if they’d already been prepared for this trial. “Then class begins right this minute.”

“Can’t you show us the spell? Or just cast it with one of us as the focus?” Now Cary was less amused at her apprentice’s clever mind.

“No, I cannot. In part, magical instruction works best if the practitioner works through the spell themselves.” Cary’s explanation drifted off as she couldn’t think of a further excuse.

“And?” Emilia and the other two looked up from their papers and waited for Cary to continue.

“Ahem. And nothing. If I provide all answers without challenging you to find your own, what will you do in my absence?”

Emilia shrugged. “Probably get eaten by a different demon, really.”

Betsy and Max snickered at that.

While they studied Cary stood watch for Cynthia and counted the money Betsy contributed to their escape fund. The idea of money was almost as old as Cary, though she could recall a time when it was far less common, almost unheard of outside of the few large communities that dotted the Earth. Today it was the lingua franca of the world, the universal language akin to mathematics or the glossolalia.

From Emilia’s memory, Cary recognized the value of thousands of dollars. It was both a great sum and far too small. More than enough to buy passage for four to nearly anywhere on the continent, possibly beyond. But their funds would run out in a few months at best, weeks at the worst. And with human authorities trailing them, their reserves would deplete with extraordinary rapidity.

Such worry would avail Cary of nothing. A better use of her time would be in checking her apprentice’s and her companions’ work. But Cary found watching others practice magic when she herself could not frustrating enough that she preferred to wait and watch.

Only a few days ago, and the scene outside would have overwhelmed her mind. Now, she found herself at least partially able to filter the noise. The massive skyscrapers hardly ever changed, so Cary had no need to monitor their silhouettes at every moment. Nor did she need to watch most of the buildings, only noting when something changed.

Floods of people and automobiles — she preferred that term to the rather pedestrian “cars” — kept her mind busy enough trying to pick Cynthia out of the crowd. She knew what vehicle to look for: a large black Cadillac with tinted windows and chipped paint.

As she focused on that particular image, she did not notice the trio of men in matching black suits and squat little hats that gave the appearance of the tiny ancestors of hats, like the progenitors of the mammals. Cary did notice when the three men paused at the storefront where she kept watch. For one thing, they stared right at her in panic when they saw. For another, she felt a prickle across her skin as one of them began motioning to her.

In the back, Emilia stood up and knocked her chair over in the process. “Does it feel kinda warm to you guys?” She collapsed with those words, Max catching her before Emilia hurt herself.

The black-clad man gave a start when his apparent spell failed to immolate Cary. Or have whatever effect he intended. But he outright screamed when Cary burst through the window and onto her would-be attacker. She hadn’t known the mage’s magical effect might transfer from herself to Emilia, not until it happened. But the mere suggestion the upstart magician might have injured Emilia filled Cary with white hot fury more than the match for whatever paltry magics the three men wielded.

One of them produced a broken brass rod with various dials and toothed gears on the sides. His hand flicked at the gears and the end glowed as Cary leapt from his companion and out of the beam of the strange wand. A pale blue light swept through the concrete path where Cary had been crouched moments before. The concrete disintegrated as he swept the beam in an arc after Cary, unable to catch her as he did. He managed to catch plenty of automobiles and pedestrians though. Screaming began in earnest as the man’s errant magic cut a literal swath through downtown Austin.

Horns blared and people dove out of the way as the mage traced a line through the air in his attempts to stave off Cary’s inevitable destruction. Not only had the mages tried to kill her precious first apprentice, but this one had almost killed Cary herself. Less than a week of freedom from Elelele; Cary earned far longer than that to have it stripped away by destructive magics.

The man’s companion grabbed the wand-wielder’s coat and shouted at him in a spoken language Cary had not heard in almost a century: Armenian. Filing that information away for later, she rolled toward the man and dove at his wand hand. His companion gave Cary the opening she needed to slap the device out of his hand.

Both of them shouted and recoiled before Cary’s unbridled fury. Her human-shape had slipped already and her skin nearly glowed with an ochre, inner radiance as she slammed a fist into the former wand-wielder’s chest. Several bones cracked from the strike and Cary felt a kind of spiritual rebalancing as she punched him in the jaw, dislocating it and shoving a sliver of bone into his skull.

The man swooned from the pain of her strike, though he would probably recover. His companion was far less fortunate, the spinning wand cut a chunk out of the corner of Cynthia’s store as it slowly deactivated. In the process, it removed half the companion’s body, blood showered out of the remnants of his form as the man toppled over and hit the concrete with a sponge-like smack.

“We must leave NOW!” Cary leapt through the shattered windows and into the store. As she did, a sound behind her alerted her to a threat she’d believed handled: the first magician, the one who’d used his magic on Cary and through her, on Emilia.

“Stop, fiend!” His accent almost sounded like Oleg’s, though the two languages were quite a bit different. Rather than snap his neck, Cary hit him in the lower part of his jaw, right in a nerve cluster that knocked him onto his ass and unconscious in moments. She lifted him up and carried him with her back into the shop.

“Now we really must leave. Come!”