As the month passed, Mena worried about three things. The first was Leo O'Ryan's threat. It was vague enough that even if she complained about it, Leo could say it wasn't directed at her.

The second was practicing for her role as Julianna. She didn't know the difference between thou and thy, much less how to pronounce them in old Autolycan.

And third, there was a young, up-and-coming wizard rapper named Mandrake, and she really wanted tickets to see his concert in Dula. He would often boast flashily that "you don't have to be-a-witch to have a bewitching way with the ladies." Even Mena admitted her third want was a bit frivolous.

Tal, fortunately, was making a swift recovery. And even better, he coached her in the ways of being a tortured actor. “It’s not acting if it’s real,” he said to her one day. His bandages were removed, and now he reclined in his bed, wearing a hospital gown.

“Imagine the worst thing that happened to you,” Tal said, raising his hand from the sheets. He made a claw with his chocolate brown hand. “Do you see this hand?” he asked her. “Do you see what I’m doing with it?”

Mena shook her head.

“This is what we tormented loners call the claw of despair,” Tal said, holding the claw out. “We generally make two claws with our hands when something dramatic happens, that way we can scream “NOOOOOOO!”

“Good,” Mena said smiling. “When you clenched your hands like that, I thought you were having an aneurism.”

Tal sighed. “You give me an aneurism sometimes.”

Mena frowned and Tal added, “In a good way.”

Mena smiled again.

“Now,” Tal said, “I want you to make the claw of despair and think of the worst thing that ever happened to you. Do it while reading your lines and the emotion will flow from you like a waterfall of misery.”

Mena nodded, and Tal glared at her. “That way you can be a master actress without any of that classically trained thespian rubbish.”

With that barb at Ashlan, it was clear to Mena that Tal was still sore about the stabbing incident. She didn’t blame him, even if she fully believed the theory of possession.

But regardless, she listened to him, grabbed her script and prepared to rehearse in one hand and clench her other hand. She pictured the worst thing she could and read her line tentatively, stumbling over the words like she had marbles in her mouth.

Mena didn’t even finish before she groaned and stopped reciting them.

“What was that?” Tal asked “That doesn’t sound tortured at all. That sounds mildly irritated. What did you imagine?”

Mena tilted her head innocently and lowered her paper. “Oh, my prince of d’awwkness, I imagined me being the only girl in this castle who can’t see Mandrake. How will I ever be able to keep up with the hip and the trendy? He’s the next best thing since Taylor Witch.”

Tal rolled his eyes and cocked an eyebrow. “That’s the worst thing you could think of? That mainstream, sell-out poseur probably uses auto-broom anyway.”

“Yesh…” Mena sighed. “That’s true.”

Tal sat up and clenched both fists dramatically. “To implement my award-winning method, you have to think of dire things that inspire much devastation, brooding and…anguish.”

Mena squeaked and covered her ears. Immediately her mind flashed back to her wicked mother and how she savagely murdered her caretaker, Deidre, right before her eyes.

“Ooops,” Tal said, reaching out to touch a shivering Mena.

“Too soon,” Mena said, and Tal patted her on her shoulder.

“Maybe we should take it easy today,” he said.

He leaned in and gave Mena a hug. Ever if she had come a long way from the trauma of last semester, now the thought of invoking her trauma to perform well scared her even more. Especially since there was one day before the big event itself.

Their quick hug was interrupted by a kind, warm voice. “Mena,” Scalia said calling out to her. “I’m so happy I remembered where you’re at.”

Mena turned around and watched as the tall, athletic fishysauz walked in. Mena flicked a finger at Scalia. “How’s that new batch of memory potions treating you?”

“I’ve got a lifetime supply,” Scalia said with big, shiny eyes. “Thanks to you and Stellaris. Stella threatened to pull the budget on Apo Carrie’s lab class if he didn’t stop harassing me.”

“Hooray for using school finances as a weapon,” Mena said pumping her fist. “Is that why you came to see me?”

“That,” and Scalia’s face grew serious. “The results of the specter-graph are in. My father, and Electra have gathered in the courtroom for the results.”

There was a deep, unsettled gurgle in Mena’s stomach. The time had finally arrived.

Though the audience filling the pews was nothing like the mass interrogation from a month ago, several important people were still there. The Lollypop jury filed into their seats. Stellaris and Caligari sat in the pews and Electra and Finnex stood at the forefront. The icebox-like specter-graph was between them.

Mena breathed a sigh of relief. Leo O’Ryan was nowhere to pummel her.

“Sorry, we’re late,” a deep voice boomed from behind her.

Mena’s eyes bulged and she turned around. “Oh, for luck’s sake”

The O’Ryans entered behind her. Lionel and Toyah looked the same, minus a bit of sleep, but Mena was immediately taken by Ashlan. Her bushy mane was now cut so it was above her ears, making her strong, lioness features all the more prominent.

“I might get in trouble for this,” Mena said with a red streak across her face. “But hubba hubba.”

“It’s nice to see you too, Sunny,” Ashlan said, her face pink and warm. “I see you like my new hairdo.”

Mena nodded.

Ashlan smiled sadly. “After my lowest point last month, I thought I’d do something different.”

“Sometimes different is good” Mena smiled.

Unfortunately, her warm reunion was shattered by Leo O’Ryan. He towered over her and mashed his hairy knuckle into his hand. “My baby sis isn’t the only thing that’s gonna look different after this. Yer face might too.”

“Oh, stop it,” Ashlan snarled back, her thick catlike hair standing on end. “Every I’m not as angry about this.”

But Leo stomped his way over to the pews, ignoring her.

Ashlan sighed. “I’m sorry Mena. As a predator, he’s only got one thing on his mind: meat and how to get it.”

“Well,” Mena said, very offended. “He’s going after the wrong witch. I don’t have any meat on these bones.”

She looked her rail thin torso and sighed, “Sadly…”

Mena and Ashlan both seated themselves in the pews. Ashlan sat with her family and Mena sat between Scalia and Stellaris. Finnex, in his dapper checkered suit began his announcement. “One month later, here we are, waiting with bated breath, or bated gills to see if either Phenomena Willow or Ashlan O’Ryan were possessed by a phantom or an otherworldly specter.”

Electra stepped forwards, her loud heels clicking. “And I hope fryboy here won’t hold it against me when I sue the pants off your client when we find out she’s clean.”

The specter-graph bubbled and steamed, releasing a gaseous fog that resembled dry ice. “Well,” FInnex said, a knowing expression on his face. “Let’s see Ashlan’s soularoid.”

Finnex stretched on a fin shaped rubber glove and retrieved Ashlan’s soularoid. He held it before everyone and there was a resounding gasp.

Ashlan’s soularoid possessed a black background, a white photo of her soul with black eyes and blotches of neon green all over it.

“Behold” Finnex proclaimed. “A photo of a tampered soul.”

The O’Ryan’s were all startled, especially Ashlan who turned sheet white and hugged her body with her arms. Leo shot a glare at Mena like that of a blunted knife.

Electra’s normally frozen mouth dropped open and wrinkles formed on smooth forehead. Finnex smirked at her. “I’m sorry the truth botched your plastic surgery. Now let’s see how Phenomena fares.”

Mena gulped so loudly it sounded like there was a boulder lodged in her diaphragm.

If she was possessed and summoned the phantom of the performing arts center, it would be curtains for her career before the play even began.