Alice was delighted to have a spellcaster good at magical cleaning as a roommate. I was stuck with the couch, of course, but she gave me permission to make it a bit more comfortable.

Keeping her home clean took almost no time from my day, since only maintenance was required. About two minutes every morning and evening, and I was done. I decided to spend some of my time crafting an enchantment to hold the language spell for me. I most certainly did not want a repeat of the Kito incident.

Lou seemed to crave company, after what had happened, so I spent much of my time with her. Helping her with homework was quite enlightening.

“Take a look at this, Aera,” she said, as we settled in against the trees at a nearby park. “I learned about it today in class.”

She pointed at a passage in a textbook. I read a little about an artifact of this nation, a symbol of its purpose, called the “Statue of Liberty.” Upon a plaque was inscribed a poem.

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,

With conquering limbs astride from land to land;

Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand

A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame

Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name

MOTHER OF EXILES. From her beacon-hand

Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command

The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.

"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she

With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,

I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

“See,” she said, smiling warmly at the passage. “You’re really welcome here.”

I gave her an abrupt hug, which startled her.

“‘Mother of exiles,’” I said with a laugh. “Your country desires the refuse of other lands, and from them, forges an empire.”

“Not an empire,” she said. “A democracy. E Pluribus Unum. It’s America’s motto. ‘Out of many, one.’”

My fingers brushed against the image on the page. It reminded me of the purpose for the portal my parents were trying to forge. To find a home for the huddled, terrified masses of our people. The mundanes, who were simply ill equipped to live in the unending, raging violence of my world.

“This is a good country,” I said. “I have visited many nations, and none, that I’ve seen, have an approach such as this. Your country even denigrates the mere idea of nobility! It is refreshing to see.”

“Yeah. America’s great,” she said with a grin. “Best country in the world.”

“I’d believe it,” I said with a smile.

Of course, I’d not actually seen any other countries, but still, it was unusual to see a land so accepting of others.

She smiled at the page.

“Is there any of your work I might be able to help you with?”

She chuckled.

“I’m great at the math bits,” she said. “But a lot of the English stuff is boring me out of my head. We’re reading Shakespeare. If you want to read it with me, keep me company, I might just manage to stay awake long enough to learn it.”

I laughed.

“I’d be happy to.”

As it happened, I didn’t find the Shakespeare very boring. Neither did Lou, actually - making little dolls out of dirt fight each other, as if they were the characters in the play, made the reading much more amusing.

We continued junkyard diving together on the weekends, and Lou provided a portion of the earnings. We still had to be careful, though, to avoid selling too much and drawing attention.

I also helped out with the band as much as I could. I was able to tweak their instruments slightly, to improve the sound quality a little. I told them it was just cleaning them thoroughly - which was partially true. Since the instruments were used, it was believable enough, and they were delighted with the results.

Alice was an excellent roommate. We’d talk about trivial nothings when she was off, and she was happy to have me around. I cleaned and went shopping for food, she cooked, and we played cards together. It was relaxing.

Occasionally I visited Kito, providing a little of my magic to improve some of his goods. Lou and Slick, however, preferred to act as though he didn’t exist. I modified his stump so that it was utterly painless to use the wooden peg leg he was given. He was never entirely happy to see me, but his resentment seemed to fade somewhat over time.

We all knew this was just a period of transition, but we were happy enough. For my part, I started losing faith in the idea of being rescued. Still, I tried not to think about it too much.

It was hardly weeks after the incident with Kito that Slick received some excellent news.

“A producer is coming!” he said abruptly, as soon as Alice opened the door for him.

“A producer?” Alice said, comprehension dawning slowly.

“Yeah!” he said. “A guy’s coming to sing for them, see if they want to pick him up, and Domiano says I can open for him!”

“Open for him?” I asked, walking out of the kitchen with a pot of soup I’d reheated.

He nodded enthusiastically, bouncing on his feet with boundless energy.

“I’m going to play first,” he said. “Before this Sinatra guy. It’s supposed to be just getting the crowd into the feel of the music, before the real show, but if we do an amazing job, they’ll notice us!”

“When are they coming?” Alice asked.

“November 30th,” he said. “So we got about a month.”

“The cellist,” I said. “We haven’t much time to find him.”

Slick nodded and his bouncing intensified.

“Cellist?” Alice asked.

“For the band,” Slick said. “We need a good cellist, and Aera says she can find one.”

“I’ve prepared the spell,” I said, smiling. “I haven’t really practiced it, but it should work! Where should we go?”

“Well, you can’t just up and grab a cellist off the streets,” Slick said with a wry smile. “There’s a little concert hall where a lot of folks go to practice. It’s not easy, ‘cause it costs money to use the space, but cellists can’t go hauling that huge thing everywhere, y’know? So I bet we can find some there.”

“Excellent,” I said. “When should we be off?”

“It’s a bit late, now,” he said. “But we could try tomorrow? I figure there ought to be some folks there on a Saturday.”

“And Lou can come, too!” I said.

He laughed. “No reason not to have her around.”

“I’ll have to hear about it later,” Alice said. “I’m working tomorrow.”

“We’ll swing by after, and tell you about it,” he said.

“This should be fun,” I said. “I’ve never used a spell like this before.”

“It’s not, uh… not gonna hurt anyone, will it?” Slick asked uneasily.

“Not a concern,” I said with a smile. “If my spell fails, I’ll just get a bit of a headache, that’s all.”

“Well that’s... good then,” he said.

“What should we do in the meantime?” Alice asked, smiling at Slick. “Good news is a good occasion, after all.”

“Maybe I should find time to practice some more,” Slick said, looking away as he started to pace back and forth.

She gave him a stern look. He failed to notice.

“Maybe I should get the boys now. Or should I get them tomorrow?”

“Slick?” I said.

He looked at me. “Yeah?”

“I think you should take Alice on a date.”

Alice sighed in an exaggerated way. “I don’t need the help, hon.”

“Of course not,” I said. “But I think he does.”

Slick gave me a perplexed look while Alice burst out laughing.

“I’m pretty sure I know how to take her on a date without help,” Slick said, looking back and forth between us, confused.

We both laughed, and Alice tugged him towards her room to get his opinion on what she should wear out.

The next morning greeted Lou, Slick, and I as we approached the practice hall.

It was far too early in the morning. The sun hadn’t even begun to warm the Earth, and I huffed out a cold sigh, my breath slipping through the air like a fluffy ghost.

Apparently it was hard to make money playing music, and so the most likely practice times were very early or very late, as the musicians were liable to have other jobs.

We stepped inside the building and I looked around. I noticed Lou doing the same, though Slick looked like he knew where he was going.

Though, really, it was obvious. We were following the sound of music.

We slipped into a little hall with a dozen or so musicians working their magic. And magic it was - my world had nothing like the intricate complexity of these wooden devices. The sounds they made were magnificent.

I whispered to Slick, “Which ones are the cellos?”

“The big ones,” he said, gesturing.

The instrument was insanely large. It was four feet tall, with the wielder almost cradling it from behind, using a bow across the strings and fingers along the neck. It seemed entirely unwieldy, but I had to admit, the sound was lovely.

I shook my head and cast the spell I’d made.

The spell was a simple sort of enhancement, really. I could normally see souls with my magesense, but it wasn’t something I could get much from, usually. Souls were intricate, tangled things of astounding complexity. To find something specific without violating too much privacy was almost impossible.

So my spell was actually not helping me to “find” anything - rather, it simply blinded me to everything except what I was looking for.

Without proper etiquette holding me back, I dove in.

Useless. The next. Broken. The third. Selfish. The fourth. Complacent.

“None of these will do,” I said, after I’d examined a few more.

“That fast?” Lou asked.

“What, none of them?” Slick asked, echoing Lou’s surprise. “He’s good, over there, isn’t he?”

I glanced at the one he’d indicated and shook my head.

“He likes attention,” I said. “He’s all show and no spirit.”

“Oh,” he said. “Well, uh, there’s some other rooms.”

“And a full day,” Lou said with a smile.

The next room had a number of skilled individuals. One of them, I made note of to go back to, if we couldn’t find a decent option.

Despite Slick’s claim that the rooms would probably be empty during the day, there was a steady supply of musicians. Still, the cellists seemed less common than the other types.

It was exhausting in a way I wasn’t accustomed to. Examining the spirits of these men - and interestingly, it was mostly men - was mentally straining. Still, ignoring little details like attachments, random fluctuations in emotion, and so forth, made my job ever so much easier.

Lou and Slick were feeling a little disheartened by sunset, though Slick tried to give us all a pep talk about how more musicians should be coming in at that hour. He’d gone through a few packs of those disgusting cigarettes again, and Lou had had a good number, as well.

I examined the next group of musicians with a sigh, not expecting much.

But then… I saw him.

Sweat glistened off his balding head as he poured every ounce of his spirit into the song. The almost grim expression of determination on his face was at odds with the sweet and breathless joy that sang to me from his heart.

He was beautiful.

“Aera? Are you okay?” Lou asked me.

“Hush,” I said, waving her away, as I watched, enraptured.

It seemed like cheating to watch a soul like this, as he played music.

Every stroke of the bow across the strings seemed to resonate his heartstrings, in perfect harmony with the melody. His eyes moved across the sheet in front of him with an ease born of long practice. He was a magnificent, dancing beast, bound to the song by strings of aether, as they guided every mote of his existence.

“Who’s she looking at, Lou?” Slick asked from somewhere distantly behind me.

“I think it’s that guy.”

“Him? He’s kind of…”

“Old? Ugly?”

“Lou! And he’s not that old.”

“Old enough to be my father.”

A sigh.

“I can’t tell which cello sound is his, from here. We’ll have to get him alone.”

“If she picks him.”

“With the way she’s looking at him? I don’t think that’s disapproval, Lou.”

“It’s up to her.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

A brief eternity later, the music ended, and I staggered back. Pain momentarily blinded me as I recoiled from the backlash of maintaining my Sight for too long.

“You alright?” Lou asked as she stabilized me.

“Yes, I’m…” I shook my head. “We must speak to that one.”

“He’s our guy?” Slick asked.

“I hope so,” I said.

“You hope?” Lou asked.

“He’s not… perfect,” I said. “He lacks ambition, so the promise of a producer might not appeal. He could be difficult in some ways, but I think… if you can persuade him to join you, Slick, he is extremely likely to contribute to your success.”

Now that the music had ended, the wild spirit had returned to its home, and curious eyes looked at us from behind thick glasses. He’d noticed us looking at him and was uncomfortable with the attention.

“Maybe you should ask him out here,” Slick said.

I nodded and walked up to him. The sweat on his forehead had begun to disappear after the song had ended, but he was getting nervous again as I approached.

“The song was beautiful,” I said in a wistful tone, smiling at him.

“Y-yes, ma’am, er, I mean, miss,” he said, swallowing and turning a little red.

“The others are about to play in a bit,” I said. “Would you be willing to speak to me for a moment in the hallway?”

He gaped at me for a second.

“About… about what?” he asked.

“Your skill with music,” I said. “That is why I came here - to look for someone who lives and breathes music.”

My words made his heart flutter, though his face only revealed nervousness. I knew I should withdraw my senses, but I was caught in admiration that defied my good manners.

I reached my hand out to his.

“Come,” I said.

He glanced at my hand, blushed again, and stood up without my aid, carefully setting his cello against the wall. He muttered to the others that he’d be right back.

I led him out to the hallway, where Slick was pacing again. The cellist looked at the two, then back at me, and stayed quiet.

“Hello, sir,” Slick said in a charming voice, reaching out his hand. “My name’s Slick Williams.”

“I’m, um, I’m Mr. Davis,” the cellist responded, shaking his hand.

“Mr. Davis,” Slick said with a nod. “I’m the lead vocalist of a little local band, called the Boston Boys, and I’ve been looking for a cellist to add to our group.”

“Oh,” Mr. Davis said, looking bewildered. “And… you’re asking me?”

“Aera, here,” Slick said, gesturing at me, “Has an eye for talent.”

Mr. Davis looked at me with some curiosity. I smiled again, making him blush and look down awkwardly.

“Skill, rather,” I said. “Skill and passion. You care about the music, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do, miss, um...” he said, not meeting my eyes. “I… I’m sorry, I don’t want to be too familiar.”

“Too familiar?” I asked.

Lou smiled up at me, “He means he’s not comfortable using your first name.”

“But you two use it,” I said, confused.

“We’re kids, and treated you the same,” she said with a shrug. “He’s regarding you as a woman.”

“Oh,” I said, glancing over at Mr. Davis, who was now looking at me with open curiosity.

“I… take it you’re not from these parts,” Mr. Davis said.

“The accent didn’t give it away?” Slick muttered, but Mr. Davis didn’t seem to hear him.

“No, sir,” I said, giving him a warm smile that forced his gaze back to his feet. “I’m not used to favoring surnames.”

“Well, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he said.

“Then, please, call me Aera,” I said.

“Right, then, A-Aera,” he said, swallowing, looking back into my eyes. He seemed transfixed for a moment and then went on. “You, um, you feel free to call me Benjamin, if you want, that is, I mean, ah…”

“Benjamin,” I said, smiling. “Thank you for being familiar with me.”

Slick coughed as though he were choking on something, and Lou covered her face, while Benjamin just flushed again. Obviously I’d said something wrong, but I didn’t have time to dwell on it.

“Anyway, Mr. Davis,” Slick said, as soon as his coughing fit subsided, “We’re pushing to make the best music the country’s ever heard. I got a place I play at regular, and we’ll be opening for someone in front of a producer, in a month.”

Benjamin had a faint twitch of his head that could arguably be called a nod.

“Is this a paid position?” he asked.

“You’d be getting a fair share of the profits,” Slick said. “Right now, it’s not much, just enough to take care of the instruments, but if we get a proper single selling good, we’d be ace.”

“I don’t know,” Benjamin said, brushing his hands together uneasily. “I don’t really know any of you, and I’m not sure if I’m what you’re looking for.”

Lou smiled.

“You’re what he needs,” Lou said, sticking her thumb at Slick. “Like we said, Aera’s got a good eye. You feel like you’re a bad match, then you can bail, and that’s fine. So, here and now, we’re just asking you to commit to a few practices with the band, to see how you like it.”

He was looking a little more at ease, and then she added, “Plus, Aera likes to visit the practices, bringing some food and drinks for the group. Free food, good company, great music - what’s not to like?”

He smiled a little at that, and I could see his spirit shift with a familiar note - one that my spell blocked. I couldn’t quite see… and it felt so similar to something in my own heart...

Impulsively, I banished the spell, though I felt horribly improper.

Loneliness.

“Well, then, I guess I can’t really say no to that, can I?” he asked, pushing his glasses back to the top of his nose.

Lou and Slick simply grinned, while I matched Benjamin’s timid smile.

That evening, I groaned into my pillow, thinking of the tongue lashing my mother would have given me for my impropriety.

“The world is yours for the taking, my daughter,” she’d say. “But while power is your birthright, so, too, is the limit on its use. Knowledge, power, land - whatever you wish is yours, but do not hide like some common thief. That which you claim, claim openly, and pay in generous excess of what is fair for it.”

I put the pillow over my head.

My mother was the more aggressive of the two, but this was an area in which my parents disagreed. My father felt that knowledge should never be limited. He would freely examine the souls of anyone he wished, which often annoyed my mother. She made a point of advising anyone who wished to speak to her that magesense was part of the price of her acquaintance, but they knew and agreed before she Saw them. Free will and choice, in her mind, was paramount.

With enemies, of course, she gave them no grace in any regard.

Still, even my father would frown at my entirely selfish use of magesense, with neither consent, nor even allowing the target to be aware. I had taken something from Benjamin purely for impulsive curiosity.

It was too late to fix it. But… I could at least try to be extra nice to him.

Benjamin did a number on the band. Slick was dedicated, but Rick and Johnny were more just along for the ride. With Benjamin on board, Slick was no longer outnumbered. When Slick pushed for something musically, Benjamin quietly complied, with absolute intensity. Rick and Johnny felt the pressure, and upped their game accordingly.

The practice sessions were still enjoyable for the band, but had taken on a weight to them. It was serious now.

I did what I could to be useful. I wasn’t much of a cook - rather, I couldn’t cook at all - but I did have an appreciation for good food. I also was quite good at keeping food fresh.

This was a convenient combination for all parties. I happily went and ordered large amounts of tasty things from various restaurants, “locked” them into stasis with magic, and for practice time, I’d bring them to the group. Benjamin was particularly fond of clam chowder, so I made a point to bring that more often.

By the time November 30th came around, the song Slick had written was in fine shape. His voice was smooth, the saxophone trilled beautifully, and the cello and drums made a wonderful background.

Alice was working, as usual. We’d gone to a hairdresser that morning and done her hair up in a nice style. Lou was looking stylish, too. She was too much of a “tomboy” - whatever that was - to wear a dress, but she was looking quite sharp in the pantsuit I’d refitted for her.

Domiano was flitting all over the club, making sure everything was in order. Though, of course, he wasn’t particularly stressed. To him, these were just rich patrons, and that was all the justification he needed to pay extra attention to the proceedings.

Alice was given a bit of grace from the other waitresses, letting her stand aside and watch the performance, while they took her tables.

Slick had gone through several packs of cigarettes in his nervousness and was probably going to put a hole in the floor with his pacing. Rick and Johnny were a bit antsy, too, but Benjamin was completely calm. After all, he only cared about the music.

Lou surreptitiously pointed out the producers that had warranted all this attention. They were a handful of middle aged men, well dressed, and enjoying some martinis. There wasn’t really anything to see.

Slick came onto the stage with the band. They were getting ready to play the song Slick had poured his life into for this last year.

Unfortunately, the producers weren’t paying attention. They seemed to be chatting with each other, while waiting for the “real” performance to begin.

That wouldn’t do at all.

If Slick was going to be ignored, it would be due to the weakness of his music, and not because of pre-existing notions.

I took a deep breath and released a gentle wave of magic into the club. It wasn’t designed to do anything. Still, I knew that even mundanes could feel magic in the air. It created a feeling of tension, of inevitability, of power, of purpose, of potential.

The club quieted and stilled as I gradually increased the intensity. The producers stopped talking and looked at the stage with curiosity.

Success.

Slick seemed to have been taken by the feeling, too. He went up to the microphone and grinned. He was vibrant with life. He looked healthy, energetic, sharp.

“Thanks, everyone, for coming to the Cocoanut Grove. We’ve got a new song for you folks, written by our band here, The Boston Boys. Let’s see how much you want to dance with Swing Boogie!”

I smiled and settled back. The Boston Boys looked incredible up there, and the crowd was paying attention. This was going to be good.

Rick moved first, his saxophone shining in the air as the riff set the mood. Johnny’s drums rolled in, and Benjamin soared into the song.

My pulse seemed to move with the lure of a dance, my body aching to move along with the beat. It was as though the magic infusing the air had begun to boil from the intensity.

And when Slick jumped in with his cheerful voice, the magic ignited! Joy flooded to all of the hearts, and laughter broke out among several of the audience members. Pairs hopped up and moved to the dance floor, unable or unwilling to resist the compulsion of the beat.

The moment of actual magic was fleeting, but the beauty of the song was more than enough to maintain the “spell,” as it were.

Lou and I were laughing, while Alice grabbed her boss and twirled around him a little, making his old face light up with warmth. Half the audience was dancing outright within hardly a minute, and even the producers were snapping along.

By the time the song ended, there were cheers from the audience, many of them breathless from the dance. The producers were talking and grinning.

The only downside was that the poor kid who was supposed to be the highlight was getting kind of ignored on the stage. He sang his heart out, and was honestly quite good. Still, the producers seemed to be ignoring him as much as they’d originally intended to ignore The Boston Boys.

I did feel a tiny bit guilty about that.

The guilt faded as delight took its place. The Boston Boys all sat down at our table, once they’d packed away their equipment.

“I felt real good about that one,” Slick said, grinning, his face still shining with sweat. “Good job, boys!”

We finished listening to Sinatra’s song, as I paid for a round of drinks for us all. A few minutes later, Alice swung by, her eyes sparking.

“Slick,” she said, in an almost conspiratorial whisper that we could all hear, “There’s a Mr. Deeds who wants to see you.”