The rest of the meeting passed just as tediously.

A few other minor disputes arose on the level of Rika and Ryan's argument over pricing, though without the two hotheads in the room they were solved quickly and without much incident. A couple of Cinza's followers were miffed over one of Ryan's friends being granted permission to Awaken, and demanded the council allow them full review over any new sponsorships, which was (of course) immediately voted down by the group at large.

None in an individualistic democracy like this group would dare give up more power than they already had in controlling the flow of new magical abilities, and certainly not to an obsessed irrational group like that. Even Cinza herself seemed apathetic at the proposal, though she hid it well behind a stream of her usual bold rhetoric.

Rachel was getting tired of dealing with the cult of Grey-eyes and their petty grievances over new sponsorships. One day, if Rachel was ever able to get her to sit down and talk, she wanted to see what Gray-eyes herself thought of her newfound status as a living god. From the three brief interactions Rachel had experienced, she was thoroughly convinced that the girl was human, or at least started out that way. She was immeasurably powerful when compared to their meager efforts, but Rachel had seen something vulnerable and lonely underneath her calm pale facade.

Someday, Rachel would get her to open up. After all, they both sought the same ends, didn't they? With Grey-eyes supporting every new magic user through the Awakening, and Rachel making sure they didn't end up killing themselves afterwards, they made for an effective—if totally disconnected—partnership. Rachel wanted to talk to her for real, to let her know that her efforts weren't in vain.

Finally, they called for the (re)-election of the council—as no one else could be bothered to take up a position of responsibility in their growing community—and the group was filing out the doors with suppressed relief.

Well, at least they still try to hide how little they care, Rachel thought bitterly.

"Kendra, before you go, can I have a word?" she called as Kendra rose from her seat, the picture of elegance.

She nodded, though she did look a touch annoyed at the interruption. Kendra was headed back to the Market immediately after the meeting, as usual, to open it to the rush of customers and merchants that always followed any gathering. Their community was small and spread wide, and while Kendra had a bit of magic up her sleeve to allow for easier access to patrons living far away, it was still an inconvenience for most. Her best business days were always those immediately surrounding an official meeting.

The rest of the room departed without a word, including—to her dismay—Josh and Mabel. Rachel had hoped one of them might be willing to help her in a meeting with Kendra, but Josh was already too detached to care, and Mabel was enigmatic enough in her own right.

Rachel still wasn't quite sure what Mabel's motivations or goals were, but she was an invaluable asset in running the meetings and keeping track of the more troublesome attendees, with her spells and rituals for detecting names and other identifying characteristics. Knowledge magic was still rare and mostly unknown, and very difficult to use as Rachel could attest herself. Those with an affinity for it—like Mabel or her own beloved Will—were quite probably the most valuable resource on the planet at the present.

"You're angry," Kendra noted.

"I thought we were friends. Or allies, at least," Rachel shot back.

"We are friends, love. But sometimes the public interest takes precedence. I thought you of all people would understand that."

"They don't need to know everything. They aren't ready for it all yet."

"Oh, come now Rachel. This isn't about some terrible secret. This is you trying to get a lead on the competition with an unfair advantage thanks to your relationship with a particular anonymous reader."

"His name is Will," Rachel retorted, in spite of herself. The room was totally empty and still under the effects of Hector's magic, so she wasn't concerned about being overheard, but even voicing his name was a risk. She felt a prideful need to defend him though, regardless of the consequences.

"Will can take care of himself, love," Kendra continued without missing a beat. "This ability to detect affinities, to whatever degree you two have developed it, is invaluable to our little community. I'd rather it be out in the open for the public good."

"You could have asked me first."

Kendra shrugged. "I could have, but I chose not to. Regardless, outside of the two of us and your friend Josh, no one else is aware of his status as Awakened, are they?"

Rachel shook her head.

"Good. So his secret remains safe, while the council can be approached by anyone to learn more about affinities, which we still know so little about. If they even exist. Everyone's happy."

Rachel still didn't like it, but she was forced to concede the point. Knowing the affinity of oneself, or of a spell or even an object, was useful knowledge and something they should have already been cataloguing. It would help develop new spells and find new connections, without forcing people to rediscover the same processes endlessly. In fact, keeping that ability hidden from the Council went against her own desires of getting everything out in the open, away from the secrecy and fear that had plagued them from day one. She was wrong to have hidden it, though she'd done it with the best intentions of protecting Will.

"You're right. I'm sorry."

"Don't sweat it, love. Was there anything else?"

"Auctioning off a Scrap is a huge risk—" Rachel started.

Kendra waved a hand dismissively to interrupt her. "I wouldn't have lost."

"I thought you still couldn't access the funds from your father's company?"

"I don't inherit Laushire Enterprises until he retires or kicks the bucket, true. The contract states it will pass to his only child upon his cessation of duties, and unless I've got a secret sibling hiding out there in the world somewhere, I'm his only child. But I still have a substantial trust fund that was set up for me as a youth, as well as my own personal assets and investments, plus my income from teaching here." Kendra smiled. "Don't fret, Rachel. I'm still wealthy enough to buy the school if I had any desire to."

Rachel nodded, reassured. If Kendra purchased the Scrap, she knew it would be in safe hands. There were far more unstable elements than Kendra to gain such a potent new piece of magic.

Creation-magic, as the new Scrap appeared to be from Will's examination, was one of the least-explored branches they'd discovered. It seemed to detail how to create and animate matter itself, as would be implied, but also to imbue it with some limited intelligence. Golems—or robots, as Will preferred—that would carry out instructions and perform tasks. One's own little army of servants, although little could be misleading.

They had no idea how large or small these golems might turn out to be, or the true depth of their capabilities. The only successful creation of a golem was a few months prior, and it resulted in a three-centimeter tall man made of paperclips that wandered a desk for a few minutes before crumbling when Will had promptly blacked out due to the strain. Evidently, animating and maintaining an object took an enormous amount of energy, though Rachel expected it could be reduced with research and practice. As far as they knew, no one else had any knowledge of the entire branch.

So how does Kendra manage something as large as the Market every few days? So many pieces of the system still didn't fit. It might be magic, but it clearly still followed some rules, if apparently not the usual laws of nature.

"I really do need to get going, love, though I do enjoy our chats," Kendra said, snapping shut her bag once more.

"Yeah."

"Do come by the Market once in a while. We've missed having you around."

"Too much to do."

"Ah," Kendra's face softened. "Have more been awakening?"

Rachel nodded. "Someone out there is spreading copies of the first page. Leaving them where random civilians can run into them, or deliberately steering them into finding one."

"Most wouldn't pick one up, much try to read the blasted thing. They can't, without assistance."

"You know who's helping them, though."

Kendra raised an eyebrow. "Grey-eyes?"

"Every single time, from what I can tell." Rachel took her seat once more, letting her aching legs rest. Her mind may not have required much sleep anymore, but her body never quite kept up with the new regimen. "No matter the person, no matter the place. Grey-eyes always appears somehow."

"I'd love to know how she does it," Kendra wondered aloud. "Teleportation should be impossible, or at the very least make quite a racket, what with the thunderclap that'd rush into the empty space. Yet she vanishes with a whisper every time."

"Kendra, you've created an entire pocket of space that you run a market in. How could teleportation be so hard?"

Kendra frowned. "You ought to know better than that, love. You didn't do that poorly in physics."

"This is magic, not science."

"Are the two so different?"

"...What?"

"Well, when we discover new magic without the crutch of that bloody book, we approach it by experimentation, do we not? Forming a hypothesis, trying out various ideas, seeing what happens or what goes wrong. We learn from those mistakes, adjust our findings accordingly, and carry on. Spot on for the scientific method, really."

Rachel shook her head. "But we're breaking the laws of physics. What we do is totally unnatural."

Kendra gave her a scathing look. "You're the foremost representative of our culture to date, the one we'll be looking to lead us whenever this bubble bursts and the world discovers what we can do, and you have the gall to call us unnatural?"

Rachel was taken aback. She felt heat rushing to her face. What had she just said? Was that how she really felt?

"I'm sorry, love, but I must be off. I hope I've given you something to think about." Kendra shouldered her bag and left the room, leaving Rachel alone with distressing thoughts circling through her mind.