By the time they got back to the house, Dara wasn’t sick anymore, but she was hungry. Millie walked back into the kitchen to put some soup on. Tara moved to follow her.

“Nope, you sit down,” Millie ordered. “It’s not just your motion sickness—you look kinda peaked from all that bippity-boppity-boo you were doing.”

Bippity-boppity-boo?

“Do you think James will…”

“Eh, he had a scare and I doubt that gang is gonna be long for the world. So hopefully? Yeah. Especially if his mom moves out of the region.” Millie paused as Dara heard dishes clatter in the kitchen. A few moments later, she came out. “Soup’s getting hot, here’s a sandwich—and this one, you can’t eat with a fork, so try it!”

Dara blinked. It was two bits of sliced bread with cold cuts and lettuce stuck between them. She sighed and picked the mixture up in her hands, trying to keep anything from falling out.

It is… sort of convenient?

And she was hungry, so Dara found herself digging into the food, only a little falling onto the plate. Before she was finished, Millie brought the soup out, along with her own meal and a glass of milk.

Fortunately, because the last thing Dara wanted was one of those horrible sweet drinks everyone seemed to love.

But eventually she finished, her stomach feeling both full and no longer unsteady.

“Right,” Millie said. “So now we have money, which we have to be careful using, since it’s drug money, but hopefully we can get you your compass. “

“How would anyone know?” Dara asked. “I mean, we didn’t deal in these drugs, and there’s no way to show that the money didn’t get burned up with the rest of the goods.”

“Good point.” Millie said. She leaned back and gestured at Dara. “But here’s the thing. Let’s say I go down and buy oh, thousands of dollars’ worth of platinum. I pay in cash. But nobody pays in cash.”

“They don’t?”

“Nope.” Millie pulled a card out. “ATM card. Most people put their money in a bank, because it can’t be stolen. So that draws attention to us. Maybe the guy selling the stuff tells someone else.” Then she grabbed the remote device and turned the TV on. Millie flipped from screen to screen for a few moments until she came to a picture of Hancock Park, the billowing fog resisting even the powerful downwash of the hovering vehicles. “And right now? You can bet that everyone is on edge. Good news, nobody’s talking magic. Bad news, a lot of people are talking about terrorism.”

“But nobody was hurt,” Dara protested.

“Yeah, back in the 1990s, there was an attack on the World Trade Center, two great big skyscrapers, bigger than anything you’ve seen. It failed.”

“And?”

“And people got over confident. In 2001 they tried again, and this time they succeeded. A lot of people died.”

“I… I’m sorry.”

“Long time ago, Kid. But I’m just saying is that we can’t assume people aren’t looking for anything weird, because nobody is gonna want to be hit by surprise again.”

“So, how long will it take?”

Millie sighed. “I… okay, we can buy some bullion bars, the small ones. I checked and they run about 100 bucks for a tenth of an ounce. But it’ll take a while, especially since I don’t know how to refine scrap platinum.”

“Oh, I can do that myself,” Dara said. “Once we get the kiln finished, I can use it for a lot of things.”

“Okay, that means more time.” Millie glanced out to the back. “And we probably need a safe. It would suck if someone robbed the house.”

“I could put up some wards…” Dara said.

Millie shook her head. “If someone robs the house, that likely means cops will get involved. I’d prefer not to have magic stuff floating around.”

“Right. So we go around and buy scraps?”

“Yeah, it’s common enough. Lot of people buy old jewelry and either try to sell it for the metals or fix it up so they can resell it.” Millie shrugged. “And because of that, we don’t have to worry about interactions with the police.”

Dara nodded and started to say something when a ringing sound filled the room.

“Did you hear that?” Millie asked.

“Yes, it came from…” Dara got up and walked to her room, staring at a box by the bed. Biting her lip, she reached down and opened the box, flinching at the bright light that came from it.

“Kid, that’s the gem, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Why is it glowing?”

“Ah… I think it’s… responding to something.” Dara stared down at the scintillating gem.

“What we did?”

“I… it shouldn’t. No. I don’t think so.” Dara shook her head. “Because if it would, why didn’t it react when I was making the glass statue?”

“Good point.”

Dara frowned, putting the gem on the table, and started drawing symbols around it with her scriber. Could it be due to its affinity? But that would mean that it’s influencing the other… Oh. “Now that it is exposed, I think it’s seeking the other gem fragments. There might be other active ones.”

“So, like you wanted to do with the compass.”

“Yes. I’ll still need the compass, but this could be bad.”

“Define bad.”

“If the gems are active, then they could also become hearts. If the manasphere has changed since I came through, we might see gems form elementals… or even spirits.

“Like the water elemental?”

“That’s one type,” Dara said. “But elementals aren’t just based on natural forces. It’s possible to have an elemental of plants, or machines, or any concept you can think of.”

“So what makes ‘em different from spirits?”

“Elementals don’t tend to last very long. They come and go, and then dissolve back into the mystic potential they came from. A spirit can endure until it’s destroyed or dies in another way, and spirits can be a lot more self-directed than elementals. That’s what makes them so potentially dangerous.”

“You seem to know a lot about them.”

“One of my best teachers is a spirit.” Dara said. She tapped her finger on the tabletop, the gleaming lines around the gem flickering in response. “There might be another reason. A bad reason.”

“What is it?”

“Remember when I said that my entry into this world might have triggered the golem?”

“Yeah.”

“What if that wasn’t a once and done thing? What if there’s still a tiny opening between our universes and that means…”

“We’re getting more magical.”

“And the gems might be responding to that.”

“Lovely.” Millie shook her head. “So what’s your plan?”

“I need a bottle,” Dara said. “I think I can isolate the gem, at least from the ambient mana.

Millie nodded, and moments later, came back with a bottle. “One vodka bottle, sans vodka, but with a cork.”

“Thanks,” Dara said. She stared at the bottle. It’s no containment unit, but it should do. She started work, complex symbols forming on the glass as she ran her scriber over them. It took about half an hour, but she finally held the gem up, then dropped it into the bottle, where it rattled around for a moment. Lastly, she pushed the cork in it, then breathed on it, before the activated the working. Moments later, the gem’s glow subsided until it was a barely visible aura.

“So it’s working?” Millie asked.

Dara shook her head. “Not completely, but good enough, I think.” She yawned once. “I think…” Dara yawned again. “I think I need to go to sleep.”

“You do that. I’ll stick the gem where nobody will find it.”

“Where?”

“The laundry basket. Nobody looks there.”

“Right,” Dara said, already feeling her eyelids grow heavy. She barely undressed and made it to the bed before she fell asleep.

“Do you think you can go home? Just leave after what you have done?” Dara blinked and looked down on the city.

The burning city. There were cars on the road, some on their sides, others rammed into light poles. An earth elemental strode down the center of the road, picking up and tossing cars, whether or not they had screaming occupants.

“He opened the door. But you helped hold it open. This is your fault, your responsibility.” Suddenly, Dara felt a hand grip her by the shoulder. “Look at me!” Helpless in that great hand’s grip, Dara looked up at the cloaked figured, two burning coals where its eyes should be. It reached up and pulled its hood bac—

Dara snapped awake, her gasp loud in the room. What was that? A bad dream or a… vision?

She sat up, looking around at the room. She was wearing the long t-shirt, and everything felt normal.

Ninety-nine percent of visions are either your mind playing tricks on you or some bad food. The divination professor’s words came back to her. A woman who delighted using her vacation to go out and destroy would-be prophets and speakers to the dead.

I wonder what she would make of this?

Dara moaned and put her hands to her head. “I have to—“

She fell silent. Millie was talking to someone.

Dara got out of the bed and moved, the worn carpet brushing her bare feet. Who could she be talking to? The other voice was female.

“Care to explain why your car was around a terrorist event in LA?”

“What, I’m having to explain where I go for fun?” Millie asked. “Figured you didn’t go in for police harassment, Maria.”

“I’m not. If you want to see what police harassment looks like, wait until someone comes here with a search warrant.”

“Really? Don’t you have anything better to do?”

“Someone blew up Hancock Park, and it’s only because God protects children, idiots, and Americans that it didn’t happen three hours later and give us four-figure casualties. Every car in there that popped up during or after the event and showed up on camera has someone following it. You should just be happy that I managed to get this one, Big Sis.”

“Been a while since you called me that.”

“Been a while since I looked up to you, Millie. This is me trying to keep you from fucking up. Again. And before you get snarky, I’d also like to know about your friend.”

“My friend?“

“This picture. I don’t recognize her.”

“Well, I—“

Dara decided. She pushed the door open and walked into the living room. “Millie? Is something wrong?”

Millie glanced over at Dara and the woman in the doorway stared at her. She was shorter than Millie, but taller than Dara, with a complexion closer to Dara’s than Millie’s. Wait, she’s Millie’s sister?

“That depends on my sister here. Dara, meet Maria Green, from the FBI.”

“Ah…” Dara had no idea what the FBI was, but from what she’d heard, she had a feeling it wasn’t something she wanted to get involved with. “Good morning?”

“I…” She stared at Dara for a moment, then whirled on Millie. “The pictures don’t do her justice. Why are you putting a teenager up in your room? Tell me you have her parents’ permission.”

“Well, you know, I’m not that formal—”

“Oh, God, Millie! Not that formal? Let me guess. She’s a runaway, isn’t she? She’s a runaway, and you took her in and now you’re one phone call away from being listed as a kidnapper if her family wants to make trouble.”

“Now you’re being hysterical. She’s just a kid who has never been to LA, and I was showing her the sights!”

“Really. Me. Hysterical. Tell me, who’s the person who self-destructed their entire career?” Maria whirled on Dara, opened her mouth, then closed it. Then she turned back to Millie. “You know what? You’re right. I could be reading too much into this, and I have more important things to do, so I’m not going to ask any questions I don’t want answered. But Millie, if you were involved, if you saw anything—anything—then get your ass down to the federal building and ask to talk to someone. Because this is too big, and I can’t protect you if you screw up again.”

“Never asked you to.”

“Yeah, I know that.” With that, Maria turned and nodded to Dara. “I hope you enjoy California.” Without another word, she went stalking out the front door.

Dara opened her mouth and then looked at Millie. The older woman took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment. Then she turned and smiled. “Hey, family, can’t live with ‘em, can’t live without ‘em.”

The smile didn’t even begin to fool Dara.