In the blink of an eye Mother Marquez and all thirteen nuns had imposed themselves in a line between the officers and everyone else. "State your business," said Mother Marquez.

"You’re under arrest for a lot of things," said one of the officers. "Lighting an unauthorized fire in a public park, directing the assault of multiple police officers, obstructing justice, and impersonating a member of the church, among other things."

"I was ordained," said Mother Marquez. "I just never bothered to take off the outfit when I got kicked out."

"They ordained a woman as a priest?" said Maggie.

"They did not," said Mother Marquez.

"But –"

"Alejandra de Surdeville is also under arrest for assaulting a police officer," said another officer. "As well as impersonating an officer, along with Maggie Noyr and whoever that kid is. And Maggie is also charged with the assault of Diego San Obispo, the destruction of a police station, escaping from custody, and subverting the authority of Los Ojos, by creating things out of thin air on an unauthorized basis, coming back from being erased, trying to bring people back from being erased, creating an entire forest, and –"

"Stuff it," growled Alejandra, cracking her knuckles. "I’ve already dealt with creeps like you today. If you want to come after us then you can try me, but you won’t take me easily."

"That was one at a time," said Maggie.

"Allow me," said Benigno. "Gentle people, if you would?"

The shadows beyond the green light grew even darker, and yet out of the darkness, there were countless little gleams of light – metallic gleams. Sharp gleams. "Hold up there," said Maggie, "I don’t want anyone getting killed here. Nobody needs to get killed here, not when I can just shift things about." The gleams of light grew closer, and Maggie could now see that they were indeed knives. "And goodness knows if any officer does get killed we’ll have less of an excuse to resist."

"I have been waiting for this moment," growled Benigno. "My army has been waiting for this moment. The chance to finally strike back for real."

The knives were drawing closer now. "I’m assuming your actual goal is to go after the Sons of the Sea," said Maggie. "And that you’re picking the cops because they’re here when you have a chance to call your guys up."

"Cops and soldier boys are in the same bag together," said Benigno.

"Look, just get the cops to the very edge of the clearing," said Maggie. "If I try to magic them away the author will probably put them fifty feet in the air or however my declarations can be creatively misinterpreted."

Benigno snorted. "Fine, Señorita Safety." He stepped into the shadows and disappeared. In a moment, the metallic gleams disappeared as well – but then pitch-black arms hooked around the bodies of the police officers, and began to drag them backward out of the light.

As soon as the last officer was just barely within her sight if she squinted, Maggie said, "There’s a thick hedge in a vast circle surrounding this clearing, with a single gap." All of a sudden there was the sound of creaking and cracking and rustling. The single officer Maggie could see jumped to the side, and then jumped to the other side, as he was brushed by the dim shapes of branches. Maggie heard a metallic clicking, and fancied she could see the officer leveling a long black rifle in her direction. "And there’s a really big trunk of a fallen tree blocking the gap."

A huge shape appeared in the air and fell right into the gap in the hedge, lengthwise, with a thud that shook the earth.

"Oh jeez," said Alejandra. "Did you flatten that guy?"

Maggie dashed forward to the fallen trunk. There were a man’s legs sticking out from under it. "Shit," whispered Maggie, "shit shit shit. Uh...the trunk is now gone. No, I can’t do that. The trunk is now in the sea." That did it, and the trunk vanished, to reveal –

"Ooh," said Benigno, stepping out of the shadows. "Not a pretty sight."

"It’s fine," said Maggie. "He’s fine, his body is fine." In an instant the body of the police officer lay whole and unblemished. He was even breathing. Maggie knelt by the man and shook his shoulder. "Sir, are you alright?"

But though the man’s body breathed, his eyes lay open, and he said not a word, nor glanced in any direction.

"This man’s soul is back in his body," said Maggie. Still the man did not stir. "I said, this man’s soul –"

"Maggie Noyr," said an officer, "You’re under arrest for the murder of Alfonso Gutierez. Please come quietly."

"Birds!" shouted Maggie, glaring at the man. "Alfonso Gutierez’s soul is back in his body and every police officer is a bird!"

There was a sudden rumbling of air as many pairs of wings took off, twittering and chirping, up into the trees.

But still the man lay silent.

Maggie felt a hand on her shoulder. She jumped up and whirled around, ready to tell someone they were a frog – but it was just Mother Marquez, looking as impassive as ever. "Come on," she said, "I know a place where you can deal with what happened."

 

 

Maggie sat slumped over her drink in a booth in a pub on Division Road, just outside the park entrance. She hadn’t taken a single sip, nor had she eaten any of the plate of tacos that came with it.

At the very least, the vast oppressive brightness of the day had faded, leaving the stars – which still shone more brightly than usual. But at least the heat was gone.

There was warmth, though. The patrons of this place had a few things to say about how odd the day had been, but mostly they had good cheer. Someone had got up a song at the bar and most of the place had joined in. All of the nuns were there, at table and in booths, laughing and toasting.

And there was Alejandra’s arm draped over her shoulder, and Alejandra leaning against her. There was that warmth. Maggie had not put her arm over Alejandra’s shoulder. She hardly deserved to do so.

"I shouldn’t ask if you’re okay," murmured Alejandra, "but do you think you’re going to be okay someday?"

Maggie at last put her arm around Alejandra’s waist. Still she did not speak a word.

"If you’re not going to have your drink," said Mojito across the table, "can I have it?"

Maggie gave Mojito a Look.

"First of all," said Alejandra, "you have your own. Secondly, why on earth did the bartender give you an alcoholic drink? You’re – how old are you exactly?"

"That’s a complicated question," said Mojito. He dragged Maggie’s plate of tacos over to his side. "If I’d actually retained all my memories from my old life, I’d say I was seventy and something. But without them? I can’t say. Maybe I’m a single day old? Well, whatever. Thanks for giving me a second chance in a form I like, Mother."

Maggie smiled faintly.

All at once the patrons were giving loud cheers of welcome. Maggie turned her head to see Mother Marquez in the doorway, striding calmly in, still wearing her priest outfit. The woman was meeting the eyes of this patron and that person, nodding to the bartender, shaking hands now and then – stiffly as ever, not a smile on her face, but for once, her eyes looked warm.

She made her way to Maggie’s booth, and sat beside Mojito, frowning at the sight of his drink. "I assume that’s non-alcoholic, young man?"

"Wouldn’t you like to know," said Mojito. "And who are you to scold me for drinking? When you’re walking into a friggin’ pub dressed like a priest? Jesus Christ!"

"If I can subvert the image of the church, then so much the better." The bartender put a tall drink in front of the woman, along with a plate of tacos. She immediately took a swig. "Never seen a bishop set foot in Los Hijos, and all I ever saw from the priests who went in was lectures about promiscuity. Why did I ever want to be ordained? Oy vey," She took another swig. "Right, Maggie, how are you feeling?"

Maggie stared at Mother Marquez, then put a hand over her mouth.

"I understand your fear," said Mother Marquez. "You’ve tried to make things right and whatever jackass is granting your wishes has been deliberately screwing them up. But declarative statements aren’t the only way to converse. You could...ask me questions, I guess? You deserve some actual answers. I was going to explain more at the shrine but maybe we all got distracted by the mystical cult crap."

Maggie cleared her throat. "What the hell is your actual name?"

"Maria," said the woman. "Maria de la Pietra."

"And...what was the whole deal with being a maid here and and a priestess there? Why would you want to scrub floors?"

"Nobody pays attention to a maid," said Alejandra. "People talk openly around them, because they see the servants as tools and machines and decoration. Nobody thinks about what a servant could be doing as long as they’re working."

"And yet Maggie did," said Maria. "Quite out of the blue – unlike your gradual warming to me, as you insinuated yourself into Los Hijos. Maggie did not even need any prompting, just said ‘thanks love’ in total ignorance of custom. I decided then and there that she might be worth working with."

Maggie stared into her drink, not even daring to ask if she was worthy. She knew the answer.

"And I would say we can work on the wording of her declarations," said Maria. "There are certainly ways to mitigate the danger of such conjurations."

Maggie looked up and stared into Maria’s eyes. The woman’s face was stone-still as ever, and yet her eyes looked as warm as before. "I...Mother Marquez, I –"

"Maria," said the priestess. "Please. You are a friend, Maggie."

"Can I be? How can I be, when I killed someone?"

"It was in self-defense," said Maria. "Possibly even in defense of others, since the man could have shot many people. It was a split-second decision."

"I could have covered the man in pink glop," said Maggie. "But my mind didn’t go there. It went straight to –"

"I want to be covered in pink glop," said Mojito.

Maggie glared at the boy. "Maybe I’ll cover you in pink glop if you don’t stop interrupting."

Mojito squealed and giggled.

"You could cover the world in pink glop," said Maria. "And yet you do not. Your mind does not go there, at least not yet. You seemingly only use your terrifyingly vast power when you need to. Practically a saint. Thus the Sisters of the Stone decided that you were safe to be tested and judged, instead of opposed outright."

"Sisters of the Stone," said Mojito. "More like sisters of booze. Every single one of those nuns is named after a cocktail. What the hell is up with that?"

"Two reasons," said Maria. "First, whenever we drink together or drink alone, we are reminded of each other. Secondly, we drink in grief for our mistakes – especially my great mistake. For I was the one who caused your family servants to vanish, Alejandra." She sat up straighter, locking eyes with the fair lady. "I convinced them, and all of the servants of Les Gens Biens, that it was better to quit, to retreat to Los Hijos and work towards a greater goal. We decided it was ultimately best to depart from a city that would never pay the lowest worker a fair wage, and find better prospects, wherever that might be. And then…"

"And then I happened," murmured Mojito.

"And then Abuela Manuela happened," said Maria. "You have a second chance now, child, remember that. You can be someone else. As for her, well, I think it was perfectly understandable to try to fight against the Sons of the Sea, especially if they were going to oppose our departure. I would only say that ordering a basic frontal assault without planning any other tactics or mission objectives was not the best choice."

"Wait," said Maggie. "Frontal assault?"

"You think you killed someone," said Mojito, looking like every bit of a child’s wonder had left him. "I got people killed. Stupidly."

"Mostly wounded," said Maria. "And then Benigno decided to convince everyone to join his precious army, regardless of the severity of their injuries. Not everyone had to become a shadow...but, here we are. The slum is near-empty now, and not in the way anyone expected. Might as well gather the survivors and get lost, if we can get past the Sons of the Sea."

Maggie was about to ask more questions, but Mojito looked like he was about to cry. "Child, you’re here in my lap." And suddenly Mojito was in Maggie’s lap, and she was folding him in a warm embrace. "Maybe we’ve both been hasty. Here. Before you cry, you should hydrate yourself." She grabbed Mojito’s drink and drew it towards her. "Have some of your virgin Michelada."

Little heeding this specific wording, Mojito took a sip. "Hang on a moment," he said, looking offended, "you turned my wine into water!"

"Cutest anti-christ I ever met," said Alejandra.

Sister Piscola came to the table and whispered a few words into Maria’s ear. Maria nodded. "Right. Maggie, we might have need of your conjuring. Our people are on the move to the forest. Let’s make sure they can get there."

 

Log in or register to write something here or to contact authors.