"What is the meaning of this?" Rowan asked from the front, his voice lacking confidence for the first time since they'd arrived. Rachel took stock of the room, trying to quickly spot anyone who didn't seem surprised by the sudden change of atmosphere. To her disappointment, she didn't pick up on any new Awakened she wasn't yet aware of, but no matter. She had more important things to worry about.

Rachel suddenly realized that, despite regular conversation (or confrontation) with nearly every other person in the room, she had never actually spoken to the mayor of Rallsburg. She turned to face Rowan Rhistler. He bore some resemblance to his nephew Mason, seated only a few chairs away from where she stood.

Rachel resolved immediately to do her best to keep identities concealed. There was no reason to reveal anyone's status as Awakened beyond the three they already saw. Having Mason or—heaven forbid—Nathaniel Price revealed as a witch before a riled-up crowd of the common town could lead to a lynching.

As it stood, she held the rapt attention of the entire crowd, both awakened and otherwise. She cleared her throat. Rachel loved being the center of attention, but she preferred it to be on her terms. She'd always known this day was coming, but she hadn't expected it so soon, nor in such a personal setting as the town hall of Rallsburg in front of her entire community.

"What Dan says is the truth," Rachel started as calmly as she could manage. She wished she could have told the sheriff, whom she honestly admired and respected, privately and directly, and tried to give her an apologetic look before continuing. "There are those of us who have certain… abilities."

She held up a hand. With the enraptured crowd still hanging off every word, Rachel focused her mind on the space just above her fingertips. She flung out her consciousness into the elements as she'd been taught.

There was an essence to fire, a universal force that was always present and ready to spring into life if given the chance. Rachel found it and pulled at it with her mind, letting it flow through her and into the space she'd set aside. The heat rushed through her chest and down her arm, a warm flow of energy like a stream ebbing through her veins to the tips of her fingers, as if the very embers were inside of her.

With a faint hiss, a teardrop of light yellow flame flickered into life above her finger like a candle without a wick.

A gasp rolled through the crowd. The couple seated in front of Rachel (the Parsons) scrambled forward in shock. All in all, it wasn't the outright panic she'd feared. Rachel turned her hand flat, palm upward to let the flame flicker and dance above as she spoke up again.

"We're just here to live normal lives, same as everyone else. No one wants any trouble, and no one intends to cause any. We're all just people."

Murmurs were rolling through the crowd like low thunder, foreboding and spelling out danger on the horizon, but for the moment no one had yet rushed them or cried witchcraft. Rachel took that as a good first sign, as the flame continued to dance and flicker in her hand. She was already beginning to feel a bit of strain at maintaining the fire. Elemental magic was well outside her affinity as Rika had called it, and Rachel was never good at keeping a fire alive without real fuel, but she dared not show any weakness in front of the crowd.

She felt it in her chest as if she was in the middle of a long run, and knew that she could go on but at some point the pressure would cause her to double over and her vision to darken. She took a deep breath before speaking up again.

"We want to help."

Hailey Winscombe burst into tears. She buried her face in her hands. The entire room looked at her for a moment, but with no forthcoming explanation for the girl's sudden muffled hysteria, focus quickly shifted back to Rachel.

"Rachel, look, you're a great help around town but this is different," Neffie Bowman said, her eyes still transfixed by the fire. "We don't know what this is—"

"It's magic," Cinza spoke up, her voice serene. "What else do you need to know?"

Neffie faltered, which was a first for her.

"Bullshit," Robert spoke up finally. "This is a dumb prank."

"Bob, they even knocked out my phone…" Gordon Merrill started meekly, but Cinza cut him off.

"Prank, is it?" She brought one arm up, and in a stunning reversal, Robert Harrison was the one to flinch. A hulk of a man with the thick muscles of a lifelong lumberjack, afraid of the thin stick of an arm pointing in his general direction owned by a girl shorter than five feet and probably only cresting a fourth of his own weight.

With a wicked smile, Cinza flicked her fingers in a simple motion at Robert. A three-foot butterfly with glowing purple wings fluttered into life directly in front of the man's eyes.

He ducked and howled. The butterfly swooped straight at his face, sending him tumbling backwards. It vanished in an explosion of shining specks which flew outward and faded away.

"Anyone else need a demonstration?" Cinza asked, looking around the crowd calmly.

"Rachel, please, help me understand," Rowan called from the front, sounding suddenly exhausted. "This cult of yours—"

"She's no cultist, to use your vulgar term," Cinza cut in sharply. "Rachel is just an elected leader for us all, follower of mine or otherwise. The other mayor of the town, you might say. Meet your real competition."

"'Us all'?" Gordon Merrill spoke up, having pulled out a paper pad and pencil. He was a resourceful journalist for sure. Rachel nodded in response.

"We have a council for resolving disputes and making decisions that affect us all as a community. I represent the head of the council at this meeting." She paused, trying to find the best way to phrase her request. "I must ask you not report on anything that happens in this room today, Mr. Merrill. I'm sorry."

Gordon Merrill looked like she had asked him to chop off his own arm. "I'm a journalist, girl. That's what I do."

Cinza snapped her fingers, and her companion threw out his arm with a twisting motion in the wrist, followed by a quick snap-flick.

Gordon's notepad caught fire instantly. He dropped it in shock. Rachel was quietly impressed by the guy's precision. She could never have summoned a flame at the opposite end of the notepad from that distance with so little time and effort, if she could even manage it at all. Rachel resolved to figure out all of Cinza's followers at a later date when she had the opportunity, before the cult surprised her with something truly unpleasant.

"Take a break for the afternoon," Cinza said cheerily. "I'm sure Rachel would be pleased to give you an exclusive someday. It'll be the most important story of your life, trust me."

"This 'community' of yours," Rowan began again. "They can all do… magic?" His mouth seemed to have trouble giving voice to the concept, as he clearly still couldn't believe what he was saying.

Rachel nodded, trying to instill confidence in the mayor. She was going to need him if they were to control his half of the town and keep the peace. She closed her palm gently as she released the fire from her control, letting it free. In an instant, lacking any fuel, the flame puffed out of existence.

"Mayor Rhistler," she began, with more formality than she'd presented so far. "I'd like to offer our assistance in tracking down whomever committed the murders on the outskirts of town." There was no reason to reveal Jackie had already asked her to do just that. The mayor and sheriff needed to be on the same side; there was no reason to drive a wedge between them if she didn't need to. Yet. "I have strong reason to believe the murders were carried out with magical means and that we are best suited to investigating the crime."

"They were killed with magic?" Jackie asked. "Well, that explains a lot."

"Now hang on, you've got witches killing witches here?" Robert asked, furrowing his brow once more. "What is this shit?"

"Would you just be quiet for once? Unless you can add anything useful," Mason Rhistler snapped from near Rachel. He'd finally broken his silence for a pithy comment like that? Rachel mused. Not the best choice diplomatically.

"Just because you're the mayor's nephew—"

"Enough!" Rowan called from the front. "Rachel, I would like to speak with you and the sheriff in private."

"With respect, sir, I can't leave this assembly yet. Not while my people remain at risk."

Rachel looked around to the gathered townspeople of Rallsburg. Most looked at her with confusion or curiosity, and only a few with outright suspicion. It was those few that she feared most. Even a few voices full of hate and terror, if cast out loud and strong, could whip crowds into a frenzy, raise the pitchforks and set the torches ablaze. She had to persuade them otherwise. It was what she'd spent months and months preparing for.

"This is an old town, and a strong one. The people here are good. I've spent time with most of you."

She began to look at individual faces in the crowd, breaking them down from a collective and forming a connection with each. If she'd had time to slip her consciousness, she'd likely see the bonds forming in mid-air even as she spoke, drawing a web between her and every person present she spoke to.

"Neffie Bowman, do you remember when I helped Preston out of that jam with the Tacoma PD?" She nodded with a friendly smile, but she'd not been one Rachel had expected much difficulty in turning. She went on. "Boris, I've always known you as a friendly face on the street, and I've loved the books you've recommended over the years. Remember when your shop flooded, and the days we spent drying out damp pages?"

She called out another, more difficult target. "Robert, we haven't always seen eye to eye, but I've always respected your unrelenting efforts to protect your loggers and the heritage of the town. I think I've always cut fair deals with you, haven't I? Didn't Nate Price leave with his tail between his legs just the other day?"

Robert nodded, a grin barely creasing his beard at the memory.

On and on Rachel went, calling out every individual in the hall she could manage. She deliberately included quite a few of the Awakened in the room, to draw suspicion away from them. For the moment, she did not plan to reveal any more of the magical community amongst them beyond the five they'd already shown. For the moment, she needed to play cautious, even if she'd deliberately thrown out her timetables in this brash move to protect Rika.

"Gordon—"

"This is all very inspirational," Gordon interrupted, fidgeting with his pen with no notepad to write upon, "but where are you going with this exactly?"

Rachel took another deep breath, as she'd nearly run out of lung-power trying desperately to name as many people as she could. "I'd like to think we've shown we're members of the community, same as all of you. All we want in return is to be kept silent. This town has always been a quiet, safe place, and we'd just like our privacy, same as the rest of you."

There it was. Rachel had voiced their one request aloud. How will the town react?

"If the world were to find out…" Neffie started thoughtfully.

"It would cause a stampede," Gordon said, one of the most worldly of the town. Most people in Rallsburg rarely ventured into the world, but Gordon Merrill had come from the big city before settling down in Rallsburg to open his own paper with his wife. "Magic, in the modern world? There would be no stopping people from trying to get their hands on it. Government or otherwise."

"Can everyone keep it hidden?" Dan asked, guilt tinging his voice. He clearly regretted having set off the current chain of events.

"Why not? No one comes out here anymore, except the crazier tourists," Robert growled. "No one really leaves either. And no one in their right mind's gonna stir things up if they're safe, are they?" he said, looking at Rachel.

Rachel was taken aback. They seemed to have already accepted the Awakened without much questioning, and were moving onto protecting them as their own. Her work had paid off. She felt gratitude leaping up into her throat and suddenly found it very difficult to speak.

"I don't know how many of you there are," Rowan said firmly from the front of the room, addressing the room at large, "but you are just as much part of my constituency as the rest of Rallsburg. You don't need to reveal yourselves, and for those of you that do, my office will treat you no differently for it."

He glanced at Jackie, who nodded, though her expression was still affixed with a frown directed at Rachel.

"I think I speak for the entire town when I say that we don't really understand what's happening yet, but that we are all willing to return the generosity you've shown us over the past year." Rowan smiled, and it wasn't the false smile of a politician, but a genuine warm smile that Rachel accepted wholeheartedly. "I trust you and your community will be happy to cooperate and coordinate with the Sheriff?"

"Of course, sir."

"Then so be it," Rowan declared. "If any of the town has a grievance to raise amongst our… magical neighbors, let them please file it with Sheriff Nossinger or Deputy Bowman and they will reach out on your behalf."

"Yeah, yeah, hug it out later," Robert said, rising to his feet once more. "I don't care what they do so long as they don't interfere with me and mine. Which brings us back to these murders. What are you doing about that?" His question was not directed at the sheriff, but at Rachel herself.

"We have a way of finding people that are using magic," Rachel replied. She hadn't wanted to reveal Will even tangentially in this way, but she knew she had to give them something. Julian and other members of the council would doubtless use this against her in the future somehow. "We've starting tracking any usage outside of town, as we believe the killer is likely residing beyond the outskirts."

Cinza threw her a sharp look, but said nothing. Rachel was grateful yet again for the girl's smart instincts. They needed to stay united throughout this meeting. If any dissent arose between the known Awakened, it would cast doubt and fear amongst the mundane town residents.

We need a better term than mundane, Rachel mused.

"Find 'em and bring 'em to me," Robert growled, taking his seat heavily once more. "I'll teach 'em to go after little kids."

"Thank you, Mr. Harrison," Rowan called out. "Rachel, you'll let us know of any developments as soon as possible?"

"Of course, sir."

"Thank you. I think that about does it for this meeting, unless anyone else has anything to put forward?" Rowan asked, looking over the crowd.

The murmuring of the crowd halted as they looked around at Rachel, the only one in the crowd still standing. She was never more aware of her height and stature as she towered over them all, feeling like a giantess.

"Thank you again," Rowan said after a measured pause. "I'm glad I can count upon all the good people of Rallsburg with such a secret. Our town is something truly special, and it is because you all make it so. If any of you would like to speak with me in private, my office door will be open in one hour until eleven tonight."

Chairs squealed throughout the building in a chorus of scrapes as people rose to their feet. Hailey was the first out the door, her face still covered in tears. Most others left casually, chattering excitedly as to what they'd just witnessed. Rachel stayed put. The mayor had clearly set aside the next hour to speak with her directly, and she intended to make the most of it.

Kendra touched her on the arm briefly before heading out the door herself. She wasn't yet willing to reveal her identity, being easily the most prominent resident to the wider world. Cinza was staying put as well, her two compatriots at her wings keeping silent vigil.

Neffie and Preston Bowman were standing by the far wall, talking quietly, and Ryan Walker was playing on his phone in his seat. His friend Seth Merrill had departed, though his father Gordon was still seated as well, having produced yet another notepad to scribble frantically on. Finally, Boris Morozov was in the back, watching Rachel with an expression of quiet curiosity. His gaze was the first to make her feel truly uncomfortable, beyond just the social anxiety she'd felt when revealing herself to the crowd at large.

As the rest of the room finally filtered out, the mayor once again rose to his feet from a quiet hurried discussion with the sheriff.

"I suppose you're the most concerned citizens, are you? Well, come on then."

Rowan gestured to a doorway leading off the side of the stage, behind which was a hallway and the smaller conference rooms, just like the one she'd recently sat down in with Nate Price and Robert Harrison.

The small crowd followed him to the door. Cinza nodded to her two companions, who remained seated, and swept her cloak around herself theatrically before proceeding into the hallway. Neffie and Preston followed her inside, and Gordon Merrill was right behind them, writing frantically as he walked, his cell phone still dead due to Hector's magic.

Ryan Walker made to follow them, but Rowan put up his arm. "What are you doing here, Mr. Walker?"

"I'm a concerned citizen," Ryan echoed sarcastically.

"I appreciate your candor, but this is going to be a plain old boring meeting," the mayor replied dryly.

In response, Ryan raised one of his hands. His forearm bulged and his skin thickened in moments, like fast-forwarded video of someone bulking up. He held it for a few moments before releasing the energy and letting his arm return to normal proportions, then raised an eyebrow at the dumbfounded mayor.

Rowan's arm dropped like a deflating balloon. Ryan smirked, strutting through the door without a care in the world to dumbfound looks. Boris Morozov followed him silently, leaving only the sheriff and Rachel remaining in the main hall.

"Well, Rachel?" Rowan asked cautiously. Rachel smoothed out her skirt before picking up her bag and walking through the door, ducking slightly as she passed through the threshold.

They followed her inside, and the door creaked shut with a thump that echoed through the vacant town hall, where only minutes earlier magic had first been exposed to the outside world.