The sun goes down on the public library.

A woman with soft brown eyes and tawny-colored hair hurries from around the side of the front stairs up to the main doors. She pulls them open and walks in to an almost empty floor. The reference desk is empty. No one is sitting at any of the tables or reading desks. A librarian behind the circulation desk is straightening things up. She looks up at the sound of the door.

“Hi,” she says. “We’re going to be closing in ten minutes. If you know what you need or there’s something that I can help you find quickly…”

“That can’t be right… you’re open until seven,” the woman says. “Where’s Linda? She’s usually here until close…”

“I’m afraid Linda doesn’t work here any more,” the librarian tells her. “She got cut, and so did our hours. It… well, it sucks. Some of the branches are shutting down completely. Mine did. This is way out of my way, but I’m one of the lucky ones, you know?”

“What about the extended hour nights?” the woman says. “I can’t get in here before sundown. If I want to have any time at all to read…”

“Gone,” the librarian says. “You’ll just have to try to get here earlier.”

“But I can’t!” the woman protests.

“Then you’ll have to hurry in, pick out your books, and check them out,” the librarian says. “Or complain to the city. I don’t know what good it’ll do, but honestly, the more people who let the council know how much this stinks, the better, as far as I’m concerned.”

“I don’t have a library card.”

“Are you a resident?” the librarian asks. “If you are, then I can get you one for free. If not, there’s a small fee. Well, slightly larger now.”

“I’m a resident,” the woman says.

“Okay, then I just need a picture ID with your address on it,” the librarian says.

“I… I guess I’ll be back tomorrow.”

In an upscale apartment on the other end of town from the spot where Laurie had walked out of the world, a committee had managed… after several hours of reasoned discussion carefully laid out in accordance with a set agenda… to produce at least as much confusion and indecision as she had dredged up all on her own.

“People, people,” Wow said, waving her hand for attention. She’d actually brought a gavel but had long since snapped the handle in frustration. “We need some order…”

“We need more witches,” one of the other attendants said.

“That’s why we’re here,” Wow said. “To come up with a plan…”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with a good, old-fashioned apprenticeship,” someone said. “That’s how I learned the craft. That’s how my teacher learned it, and her teacher before her.”

“That’s all well and good, but if we each start teaching one newbie now it’ll be years before we’re back up to our strength before the attacks,” Wow said. “We need…”

“You can’t mass-produce magic,” someone objected.

“Magic isn’t taught, it’s experienced… we need to seek out those who’ve been…”

“Seek inward, not outward. We have the power we need within ourselves.”

“Such arrogance. The stars will guide us to the one who will save us…”

“Oh, that’s been done already!”

“It’s all been done. The wheel turns on, the cycle begins anew.”

Wow threw up her hands, then turned to look at her sister, who’d been sitting there quietly the whole time. She didn’t expect much from Woe on a day to day basis… apart from Woe’s peculiarities, the two of them could not coexist in the same place peacefully for long. But when Woe said that she would do something, it generally carried the weight as any other time that she declared something would happen. It wasn’t so much a promise as a prophecy.

“Well?” Wow said.

“Well enough, thank you.”

“I thought you said you’d help me recruit,” Wow said.

“I did,” Woe replied.

Et fini.

“Is that what you are?” Laurie asked. “A witch?”

“That’s what they call us,” Woe said. “Because they’re afraid of us.”

“I remember reading that the root word of ‘witch’ means ‘wise’,” Laurie said.

“Yes,” the girl said, nodding. “It does.”

“So, then… it’s not just about being feared,” Laurie said.

“You’re right,” Woe said. “It’s about being feared for your wisdom. If they fear you for something else, they’ll call you another name instead.”

“I suppose it’s some comfort when you hear words like that, knowing that you’re wise, anyway.”

“Not really,” Woe said. “Because you have to know that you’re not wise, no matter what anyone else says. The first magic…”

“…is knowing nothing,” Laurie said. She sighed. “I remember, yeah. But there has to be something in being a witch… power, security, something. What exactly do I get out of it?”

“You’re the one who wanted it,” Woe said.

“It’s just… I want to know that I’m doing the right thing,” Laurie said. “Not morally, right for me… I don’t want to do something immoral, but… if I’m going to be changing my life, I want to know that things are going to be better.”

“Do you want certainty, then?”

“I don’t know what I want!” Laurie replied. “I just want to know what to expect.”

“If you don’t know what you want, then why does it matter what you expect?”

“I don’t know.”

“See?” Woe said. “You do have some natural talent for this.”

“So… say I do want to be a witch,” Laurie replied. “What do I have to do?”

“Don’t you know?”

“No,” Laurie said. “And don’t tell me that’s a good start!”

“You’re walking down a path,” Woe said. “You’ve just figured out where it leads. If you don’t want to end up there, you have to stop. Go back. Get off the path. Get on another.”

“So… I just keep going, then?” Laurie asked. “Wandering. For how long?”

“Until you get there,” Woe said.