"I trust this meeting will be kept confidential?" Rowan asked pointedly, looking at Gordon Merrill.

"Of course, of course," said Gordon with an air of excitement. "This won't appear in any paper. I'm writing this down for my memoirs. Someday that'll sell like wildfire."

"What is this meeting, anyway?" Neffie asked.

"A peace summit," said Cinza. She stretched out her legs, which barely reached the floor, relaxing after the stress of the town hall. She removed her hood, and a moment later, a line of bright silver snaked up her hair as it shifted from pure grey to her natural brown, to gasps of shock from the newly aware.

"Would you quit showing off?" Ryan said, gently kicking her chair under the table.

Cinza laughed, which was even stranger in her echoing voice. "I'm just reminding them who they're dealing with."

"Enough," Rachel said sharply, and to her relief they fell silent. "Mr. Mayor, I—"

"Rowan, please," he replied. He smiled weakly. "By all rights it sounds as though you're as much in charge of this town as I am. We may as well start treating each other more equally."

"Rowan," Rachel started again. "I'm grateful for what you said back there, but you know it won't hold sway with everyone."

"Oh, undoubtedly. The gossips will still gossip, though news isn't likely to travel outside Rallsburg. Robert was correct, very few people ever leave this town. We're quite contained here."

Rachel nodded. "That's not my gravest concern."

"What do you mean?"

"Salem," Cinza answered simply.

Rachel inclined her head at the girl. "As much as none of us want to voice it, there is still a great aversion to the supernatural in the world. We might live in modern, enlightened times, but those only came about because the scientists all proved that witchcraft wasn't real. There's honestly no way to predict how people will react when confronted with the real, undeniable thing."

"I think it went over pretty well," Rowan countered. "Everyone seemed to leave in good spirits. And let's not forget that this is still Rallsburg. Most people here just want to be left alone. We simply don't have drama."

"For now," Rachel said. "But that was a small taste. A candle and a butterfly. What happens when they're forced to confront something more dangerous?"

"How's this any different than someone roaming around with a gun?" Preston Bowman interjected. "It's not like anyone with a hunting rifle is automatically dangerous."

Cinza held up her hand in response, and despite her diminutive size, the mundane half of the table flinched away. "What about a weapon you can never take away, one that's always at our fingertips and dramatically more destructive and versatile? Where I can snap my fingers—" which she did, and moments later a ring of bullets appeared in mid-air floating above her thumb, "—and in a moment snuff out more lives than any single gun."

She closed her fist sharply, rolling her fingers between each other as she did, and the bullets flew straight at the neck of each person present with deadly accuracy and terrifying speed.

Gordon Merrill shrieked, falling over backwards in his chair. Jackie and Rowan both ducked, while Neffie and Preston Bowman were frozen in terror.

An instant before reaching their targets, each vanished, leaving only a brief sparkle of light before disappearing entirely. Ryan and Rachel had not moved an inch, knowing Cinza's illusions for what they were.

"She puts it a bit dramatically, but yeah, we can do some crazy stuff," Ryan said calmly. "And like she said, it's all inside. You can take a gun away from someone when you arrest them, sheriff. What are you gonna do when I can break handcuffs just by thinking about it?"

"People still obey rule of law, though," Rowan replied, settling back in his chair once again. "Just because someone can do it doesn't mean they will."

"You're not the one who's gotta arrest them," Jackie muttered, righting herself with rather less grace than the mayor.

"We're in uncharted territory," said Neffie. "There's no precedent to rely on here. We're the first."

"What would you suggest, Rachel?" Rowan asked.

"I…" Rachel hesitated. Truth be told, she hadn't really considered problems of law enforcement thus far. "I'm not sure."

"Well, you have your own council and rules to enforce, do you not?" Rowan asked. "How do you enforce them?"

"We don't have to," Rachel replied. "Everyone knows the consequence of breaking what few rules we do have, and we've never really had an incident yet."

"Not once?" Preston asked, looking skeptical.

"Well, the last time anyone had a major disagreement we nearly blew up the town," Ryan said flippantly. Rachel looked at him sharply, and he recoiled in his seat.

"What?" Jackie asked in a low growl.

Rachel took a quick breath before answering, shuddering at the memories that sprang forth. "Remember the night about a year ago, when the old abandoned library burned down?"

"That was you?" Rowan asked. Gordon seemed to stop scribbling on his notepad for a moment, eyes wide.

"Not me, but someone with magic, yes."

"Christ, I thought we were in a war zone that night, but we never caught anyone," Jackie murmured. "I assumed some kids had gotten ahold of a shit-ton of fireworks or something. Thought we were going to have a forest fire to end all fires."

"What happened?" Rowan asked.

"Two people had a… disagreement. On how our Council should proceed in terms of interacting with the outside world. They were both very influential voices, and some took sides in the argument." Rachel paused. The flashes of light and the explosions, Omega's minions advancing against Alpha's hurled bolts of ice and torrents of water, the lightning strikes from the sky and the bursts of fire. She took a deep breath before continuing.

"They took it too far, and both sides called a truce before it turned ugly. But neither of the individuals in question wanted to stop, and we collectively decided to intervene. If we hadn't, it might have been the entire town that burned instead of just the old library."

"What happened to these two individuals?" Rowan asked, while Gordon's pen scratched incessantly.

"They both left town, by mutual agreement. Neither plans to return, and both are in agreement to keep utmost secrecy about our world. We have nothing to fear from them anymore," Rachel lied smoothly, as memories of terrifying golems gliding across the forest floor sprung unbidden to her mind. The room looked satisfied at the answer.

Rachel looked across the room to the one person who hadn't spoken yet. Boris Morozov, the old bookshop owner and Russian expatriate, was gazing with eyes unfocused, his head turned slightly to one side as if he were listening to something. After a moment, his eyes shifted back to the room so subtly that she doubted anyone else could have noticed. Who is he talking to?

"The murders were carried out by magic. Who can do such spells as lightning and the carving of a hole through the body of a child and a young man?" Boris asked calmly.

"How do you know about—" Jackie started to ask, but Boris held up his hand.

"You are not the only one who regularly checks up on the outer parks, dear sheriff. I happened upon the bodies myself before you cordoned off the trailer." Boris turned back to Rachel. "It would seem the quickest way to a suspect is by the limitations of such magic."

"Anyone of us can learn any spell," Rachel replied. "Some," she added, inclining her head at Cinza, "might specialize in a particular field, but there are no real limitations holding her back from throwing lightning as well, given time."

"Ah," Boris replied, sitting back. "So anyone has the capability to do such a deed."

"Not exactly," Rachel replied. "This type of magic, being able to remove matter so effectively, is not something we've ever seen. Whomever knows the technique has never shared it. It's unique, for now."

"And fucking terrifying," Ryan added with a shiver.

"Ryan," Rachel admonished, and he recoiled. Rowan looked between the two of them with interest.

Rachel addressed the mayor directly. "Whatever this murderer can do, I'm fully confident that we can deal with them."

She tried to project as much temerity as she could muster, and both the sheriff and the mayor alike seemed satisfied. Boris, on the other hand, once again seemed to be listening to something else entirely, though no one else in the room gave him any notice. Rachel wondered who or what it could be, if it were so slight that only her enhanced senses were able to detect it.

"Between the Council and myself, we know every single person with magic," Cinza added, stacking up the lies they were telling the mayor and the sheriff. Rachel grimaced inwardly, but knew it was the only way they could keep the mundane half of the town calm. "It's only a matter of time before we track them down."

"How many people is that, exactly?" Gordon asked with interest.

Rowan held up a hand to forestall her before Rachel had to figure out an answer. "Our town census as required by the state is the only form of tracking I will permit. Rachel and her people are not to be treated as a list of suspects. They are still members of our town and deserve the same respect of privacy we have always provided."

"Beggin' your pardon, sir, but isn't this a bit different than keeping track of people in town?" the deputy chimed in. Preston looked embarrassed as everyone turned to face him, but pressed on regardless. "I mean, like we said before, these wit— err, sorry… the…" He paused, looking expectantly at Rachel.

"The term we've been using is 'awakened'," she supplied gently. Neffie rolled her eyes, but Preston nodded.

"These 'awakened' have a lot of power in their hands," Preston continued. "We have people register for firearm permits. Why wouldn't we have people register that they can do magic?"

"Because we don't make people register that they're able to sprint a four minute mile or that they love to listen to death metal," Neffie put in. She tapped her brother on the shoulder. "It's something they are, not something they own."

Rowan leaned forward pensively. "Rachel, is that list going to expand dramatically over the coming months?"

"No," Rachel replied. "Not anyone can just cast a spell. Even if I taught you exactly how I can make fire, you couldn't do it."

"Ah," he replied, looking a touch disappointed, though he masked it quickly enough. "It would seem like we have nothing to worry about, then." As she'd hoped, he'd taken her words to mean that he could never awaken, nor could anyone else. The last thing she needed was a sudden burst of newly awakened to deal with in addition to their present dangerous concerns.

"This is quite the progressive group, but we need to address what we plan to do when the inevitable crusade begins," Cinza said.

"The crusade?" Rowan asked, confused.

"When the nuts in the town decide they don't like witches and want 'em to burn," Jackie said bluntly. Cinza nodded her head at the sheriff in gratitude.

"I'm all for unity, but when the pious zealots come for my people, I will not stand by."

"I'd have to arrest you."

"According to RCW 9A.16.020, Cinza would be well within her rights to defend herself and her followers," Rachel interjected, dredging up the state code from the recesses of her memory. "Provided she didn't use more force than absolutely necessary," she added, with a pointed look in the girl's direction.

"Is your ability to cite state law at will a part of your abilities?" Rowan asked with interest. Rachel nodded with a touch of pride. He grinned. "I'd give a lot for that little trick."

"When they come for us, what do you plan to do, dear mayor? Will you stand by the wicked cult of witches against your fair townspeople?" Cinza asked again.

"It won't come to that," Rowan replied.

"'Course it will," Ryan cut in, to everyone's surprise but Rachel's. "This is end of the world planning here, and we all know that end's coming. The old world where magic was a fairy tale for dumb kids is about to be over. We're what's coming."

There was silence for a few minutes following his comment, as they all digested what he'd said. No one could really dispute it.

"Well, I'd like to thank you all for attending the first summit of the end of the world," Rowan said lightly, and got a few smiles in return. "I think that about covers it for now, but I'd like us to meet regularly moving forward. I won't pretend that this is even slightly normal, but I'm hoping that we can all take this in stride and work together to keep our town safe, secure and satisfied." He rose, and everyone else in the room stood along with him.

Rowan held his hand out to Rachel. "Rachel DuValle. I, Rowan Rhistler, mayor of Rallsburg, officially welcome you and your Awakened to our town, and offer you the position of Special Counselor to the office of the Mayor."

Rachel took his hand and shook it firmly. "I am honored to accept, Rowan."

"Excellent," he said with a smile. "Now, I need to run if I hope to get anything to eat before the first of the constituency is banging on my office door." He dug into his coat pocket for his business card, and scrawled a number on the back before handing it to Rachel. "This is my personal number, if my office phone won't do. I trust my assistant to be discreet, but if you need to contact me directly for any reason, don't hesitate regardless of the hour."

"Thank you," Rachel said. Rowan smiled again, then turned and left.

Jackie immediately turned to her deputy. "Preston, we're gonna need to patrol all day. Any sort of hubbub, any hint of unrest, you call me and we deal with it together. Got it?"

"Yes ma'am," Preston replied, picking up his hat from the table. The pair left, Neffie on their heels.

"Gordon, I trust this won't be making any papers, right?" Rachel said calmly.

"You owe me an exclusive the moment this story breaks—and it will break, kid," Gordon said, giving her a look.

"If that's what it takes."

Gordon nodded, picking up his notepad and pen and departing as well.

Ryan gave her a look. "So what now?"

"We do what we promised. We track down whomever did the killing and we make sure it doesn't happen again," Rachel replied.

Cinza nodded. "My people are on edge already. They'll be looking for something to do. We could start combing the forest."

Rachel shook her head. "I wasn't lying. I do have a way to track people using magic."

"Oh?" Cinza asked, sounding bitter. "Between all the other lies we told, I wasn't sure."

"You know why we needed to lie," Rachel sighed.

"I do," Cinza replied. "That doesn't mean I'm happy about it." She frowned before continuing. "How precise can you get?"

"Close enough. So long as no one else is out there in the forest, it should be easy enough."

"My people have invested a good deal of time into our current home," Cinza said. "We've developed ways of hiding ourselves."

"Ways that we can't detect?" Rachel asked.

"Have you yet?" she asked mischievously.

Rachel frowned. "Our method seemed foolproof."

"Then perhaps we have developed a new magic he has not yet discovered." She smiled. "They may be gods, but they are still flawed."

"In that case, I think you're probably safer where you are," Rachel sighed. "Is there anything we can provide you?"

"We should be fine," she replied, then, after a pause, "But you're welcome to visit, if you have any more concerns."

"I trust you to take care of your own," Rachel replied.

"Your kindness speaks volumes, Rachel," Cinza said with a slight bow. She looked a touch disappointed, but she hid it well.

She reached into her bag for something. Rachel looked on curiously, but Cinza only produced an ordinary cell phone, which she handed over. It was oddly out of place in the girl's hand, when bracelets and charms clung tight to her wrist inches away.

"This phone can reach me. I'm the only contact listed." Rachel accepted it, and Cinza left.

Ryan frowned. "Cinza might not be bringing it up yet, but we both noticed when you decided to jump in."

Rachel shrugged. "I waited until the last possible moment, in case we could have kept our secrecy."

"Whose last possible moment, though?" Ryan asked.

Rachel didn't answer. Ryan nodded with satisfaction before turning to follow Cinza out the door.

Rachel let out a deep breath, sitting back down again and stretching out her shoulders briefly before she turned to look at the only remaining person in the room, whom everyone else seemed to have forgotten was there.

Boris Morozov gave her a faint, knowing smile. "Miss DuValle, is there something I can help you with?"

"No, Boris, but perhaps your friend would be willing to reveal themselves now?"

Boris cocked his head to the side once more, listening before responding once again. "She says she cannot. But she wants you to know that she thinks you are doing the right thing and that you should keep going. She trusts you."

Rachel nodded, equal parts disappointed and encouraged. Grey-eyes had been listening for the entire meeting, hidden so thoroughly that no one could possibly notice. Only Rachel, through the nearly imperceptible clues given away by Boris himself, had picked up on her presence.

"Thank you."

She stood, and Boris stood as well, offering his hand. She shook it firmly.

He smiled again. "For what it is worth, I agree. I think you've achieved something admirable today."

Then why won't she reveal herself to me? Rachel wondered in dismay. "I'll be in touch."

She turned and left the room, heading out into the bright sunlight of midday. It didn't cheer her up as much as she'd hoped. As Ryan had said, it was the end of the world, starting that day. No matter that a new one was ready to spring into place, the old world would not go quietly into the night. The transition would be rough, and it would be bloody. The first evidence of that was pressing on her mind, the memory of dismembered and tortured innocents fresh in her brain as with any other memory she'd ever held. She steeled herself, setting off down the street with a firm step and strengthened resolve.

Rachel DuValle had a murderer to catch.