What Maggie had been prepared for, as she had resolved to cross Division Road, was crowding, noise, filth and stench. So as she and Alejandra climbed through the steep streets of Los Hijos, and she heard no noise, saw no people, and only caught the faint whiff of garbage, as if its decay was long spent – she wondered what, exactly, she should have expected.

Beside her, Alejandra’s face was grim. Maggie supposed a high-class lady like her wouldn’t feel welcome in a place like this. But why her hand kept drifting to a spot on her upper arm, Maggie could not guess. And then she remembered – Madame de Surdeville had said Alejandra crossed Division Road daily. "Alejandra, did someone...hurt you, the last time you were here?"

"I’ve got no visible scars to show for it," grumbled Alejandra. "I suppose I ought to be thankful for that, or you would have nosed into the matter already. But it was just one graze from a bullet anyway. Everyone else wasn’t so lucky."

"Everyone else?" Maggie looked all about her. "But there’s no one here. Unless they’re all hiding or…" Her voice faded as she trailed off, not wanting to say what she feared had happened.

"Never mind," said Alejandra. "We’re here for Benigno, right? The critical ally?"

"I was thinking Rafael," said Maggie, as she reached the top of a haphazard staircase.

Alejandra came to a halt at the bottom of the staircase, and looked up at Maggie quizzically. "He lives by the docks, right?"

"He lived by the docks," said Maggie. "Or more like, he would have lived there. But since I erased Luis, Rafael would have never had the money to get a better place in the first place, so I figured he was here in Los Hijos...somewhere...shit, I wouldn’t even know where, would I?" She peered into a narrow alley between two tall tenements. "Maybe in here? Wait, I shouldn’t just be waltzing into dark alleys. Wait, there’s no one here in town to actually jump me. Never mind. Wait, if I altered the timeline, does that mean Rafael would have gotten caught up in whatever killed a bunch of people here?"

Alejandra’s expression changed from quizzical to exasperated. She let out a long sigh, then stomped up the steps. "All I will say is that in some circumstances, being flippant is extremely rude." She grabbed Maggie’s hand and dragged her through the alley, and through a few more, barely slowing down as they climbed more sets of stairs.

Eventually they emerged into the sunlight on a street filled with noise and people. There were children playing soccer with the goalposts being two garbage cans; there were laundry lines strung across the street and across the alleys; people were carrying goods on their shoulders and people were sitting at corner booths crying out their wares.

A few children took notice of Alejandra, and ran over to her. She laughed, though it did not reach her eyes. "Sorry, kids, I don’t have any candy for you today."

"But you’ve got Arm Candy," said one of the children, glancing at Maggie.

Alejandra’s cheeks turned pink. "Well, children, that’s none of your –"

"What is this?" said a man wheeling a barrow full of sacks of concrete. "Alejandra, here again at last? And in a dress that is obviously from last night. Is this some sort of Walk Of Shame? And yet you’re doing it with the person you –"

"Shush!" roared Alejandra, with a face that was beet-red. "We’re just here to look for someone."

"Rafael," said Maggie. "Anyone seen Rafael? Guy who does boating tours for middle-class folks?"

Everyone looked confused. "There is a Rafael who does boats," said the man with the wheelbarrow, "but he’s a fisher, not a tour guide."

Maggie and Alejandra exchanged glances.

"I guess I really did mess with the timeline," said Maggie.

"Why are we even looking for him?" said Alejandra.

"To fix my mistake," said Maggie. "If Luis won’t come to him, we bring him to Luis."

"But," said Alejandra, "if he actually exists enough to bring Rafel to him, then you didn’t actually –"

"I also need someone who can actually contradict things out of existence," said Maggie. "I swore off that power, but Rafael didn’t. So I need him on my side for when we go up against Los Ojos."

"When?" said Alejandra. "You’re so sure of this. But I did say we had common cause, didn’t I? I suppose if I wanted anyone by my side to fight those things, it would be a conjurer who seemingly can’t be daunted. Alright."

"And we have Rafael with us," said Maggie, "our power combined will help to keep you safe from harm."

"Have I not demonstrated my strength?" said Alejandra.

"At this point in the narrative," said Maggie, "barely."

"Again with that stupid freaking –"

There was a creak, and a door near them swung open. Out of it stepped a short, scruffy, swarthy, sun-browned man. "Alright everybody," he said to the people on the street, "they’re both about ready to go."

Everyone’s head snapped around to look at the man. Most of them gathered close around the door, though some scampered off into other houses – only to come back out with more people in tow. A few people were calling for Mother Marquez, whoever that was.

A woman wearing a white shirt and a black robe appeared at the edge of the crowd. She had tawny skin, an aquiline nose, long black hair and green eyes. As soon as people in the crowd took notice of her, they swiftly stepped aside to let her through. She entered the house, taking Rafael by the hand and dragging him back through the doorway.

"Hang on a dang second," muttered Maggie. "I’ve seen that face before."

"As have I," murmured Alejandra. "Many times. Thank God she's alright."

Maggie glanced up the street, wondering if any more people were coming. She didn’t see anyone who was getting closer – but she did see a woman standing in grey shadows, with her back to the crowd. She had deep dark skin and long dreadlocks, and a ring on each finger, and she wore no more than a plain shirt and shorts – not even shoes. She had her arms folded, as if sternly glowering at something up the street. And there was something...A gaggle of young men, all of them looking grim, and bearing rifles slung on their backs. And before them, a big blonde-bearded man in a white suit, with his arm in a sling.

"Shit," breathed Alejandra. "Everyone, go to ground. Diego’s around." The crowd instantly scattered, with the street empty and doors and shutters slamming closed before Maggie even realized what was happening. "Maggie, inside this one with me. We’ve got to guard old Manuela as she breathes her last."

"I’m not dead yet," said the voice of an old woman from down the hall.

"Well I’m about to be," said the voice of a young man. "Might as well end it, Benigno."

Maggie and Alejandra were at the door – Alejandra with her ear to the sheet metal, Maggie peering out of a gap that passed for a window, both on high alert for the sounds of approaching booted footsteps, or gunfire, or however these goons operated.

"I suppose it’s a good moment for both of us," said the voice of the old woman. "A cool breeze blowing in through the window, the bright sunlight shining through. Very peaceful."

"It is a good day to die," said a deeper voice.

"It’s a good day for you to get the Hell out of here, Benny."

"Good heavens, you know I hate – ah, I see."

Maggie was already marching down the hall towards the voices, hoping that the open windows weren’t going to get them vanished straight away. She stepped into the doorway, and realized that her efforts to close the windows were futile – there was no glass in them.

Within the room sat a young man on a chair, clutching his side as blood spilled from between his fingers and pooled at the chair’s feet. On a ragged, filthy old grey mattress lay a woman who looked like the years had done a number on her. By the bedside, looking furious, was the green-eyed woman wearing a white shirt and black robes; by the chair, looking intensely focused, was a brawny man of dark skin and long dreadlocks.

"Hello," said a familiar voice behind her, "who might you be?"

Maggie whirled around. There was the swarthy, scruffy man. "Rafael," breathed Maggie. "Did I – I must have screwed up the timeline completely. Do you remember Luis?"

Rafael laughed. "I’m just messing with your head, my friend. But yes, I remember Luis. He went away a while ago, as I recall."

"What you are doing," snapped the woman in black robes, "is intruding on a private ritual. All three of you! Benigno, I know exactly why you’re here, so you can get the hell out –"

"I invited him," whispered the young man the chair. "Figured I’d go out my way, which was his way. Sorry I couldn’t make it any farther than this house. But Benigno’s got an army, now...figured I’d join."

Maggie frowned. "Army?"

Benigno moved to the young man’s side. "Jeronimo, you are willing to hear me out, then?" Jeronimo nodded. Benigno looked to the windows. "And the windows are open, not that they coud ever close."

"That’s why I’m in here," said Maggie. "Even if Los Ojos don’t notice what you’re doing –"

"We need them to notice," said Benigno. "Jeronimo, do you wish to join my army? Serve under my command, until I release you, or death take you?"

"It’s taking me already," whispered Jeronimo. "I could choose to die now, or sort-of die now and risk the full thing later."

"Or you could choose my path," said the woman in the black robe.

Jeronimo coughed weakly. "My heart is not stone, Mother. I will take Benigno’s way. I choose his army." The wind picked up a bit, and the sunlight grew brighter. Jeronimo’s image went pitch-black, as if he were a silhouette – and he disappeared without a word. The wind died down, though the sunlight did not fade.

Benigno stood up a bit straighter. "It is done."

Maggie found herself leaning against the doorway, unable to take her eyes off the empty chair. "Is that...what happened to everyone in Los Hijos? You made them join your army, and they vanished?" She felt a gentle hand on her shoulder, and turned to see Alejandra beside her, staring daggers at Benigno. "I assume you know more, my friend?"

"It’s more complicated ," muttered Alejandra.

"It has much to do with the woman on the bed there," said Benigno. "Though why she would not wish to join my army, and thus have her revenge, I still do not understand."

Maggie approached the bed. As she drew close, a faint, horrible scent came to her nose, a scent of rot. The woman had a lot of bandages on her arm, but what Maggie saw of the skin of her hand looked discolored. The woman caught Maggie’s eyes. "What are you here for then?" She took a labored breath. "Come to stare? Or are you a part of whatever fool ritual Mother Marquez here has in mind?"

"Abuela," said the woman in the black robes, "it is not a ritual. All I need you to do is pledge to return no evil for evil, and then agree to follow me. It is very simple."

"No evil for evil." The old woman laughed. "And here I thought you would ask me to renounce the Devil and all his works. Ah, but I know you well enough. That is not your way, is it. Despite your appearances."

"You do look a hell of a lot like a priest," said Maggie. "Um. Priestess? Wait, are you – were you even ordained? What the heck are you? You were a maid in once place and now you’re playing at being a priestess –"

"I am not playing", snarled the woman in black robes, "and for your information, I am stone."

Maggie looked the woman up and down. She seemed flesh-and-blood, at first glance. "Mademoiselle le Chiffre, Mother Marquez. Who are you?"

"A valid question," said a voice from outside the window. There was a young man in the alley, in rugged clothing, with a blue scarf tied around his bicep. He held a military rifle in his hands. "More importantly, who is the woman in the bed there? But we already know." Behind him, a few young men sidled up to the window and leered in. They all readied their rifles.

"The house has steel shutters that are all closed," said Maggie. With a clang the room was cast into darkness, with only a few bits of sunlight peeking through cracks and gaps. "Also there’s a lamp burning with whale oil on the side table." Suddenly the room was filled with a soft glow, revealing the astonished faces of Benigno and the old woman, and the utterly unsurprised looks of Alejandra, Rafael, and...Mother Marquez, if that was her name here. "And there’s a glass bowl of strawberry-filled candies on the side table." A side table appeared, bearing a glass bowl full of candy.

Benigno backed away from Maggie. "What...are you?"

"A hell of a conjurer!" The old woman laughed, which turned into a hacking cough. Benigno thumped her on the chest and she breathed a bit easier. "Most conjuring takes a lot more work."

Maggie heard the scrabbling of fingers at metal, and more sunlight began to spill into the room. "Alright third option," she whispered to the old woman. "You are now a young girl."

And lo and behold, where old Abuela Manuela had been, there was now a little girl, dressed in a frilly skirt and shiny black shoes. She sat upright, gazing at her hands in the darkness. "What did you – what is this?"

"Everyone else out of the room," whispered Maggie. "I’ll handle this." She scooped the little girl into her arms. "Go!"

Once everyone else had departed, Maggie threw open one of the steel shutters, letting sunlight spill into the room, and eliciting a cry of pain from someone on the other side. She peered over the windowsill to see the fellow from before, now lying on the ground clutching his forehead. Other men around him were laughing. "Oh terribly sorry," said Maggie. "Were you wishing to speak to me? Why didn’t you use the front door?"

The man picked himself up off the ground. "Give us Manuela Lopez and nobody will get hurt."

"Except Manuela Lopez," said Maggie. "But I’m afraid I don’t know who that is." And in a way, she was not lying, for she knew very little about who the woman had been.

"You’re probably hiding her," said one of the other men. "Using a little girl as a prop. You should be ashamed."

"Hang on," said another man, "I heard she busted out of a police station by using a bunch of conjure tricks. And we just saw a bunch of shutters appear out of nowhere."

"No you –" Maggie caught herself. "I mean, I can’t say I know what you mean."

"Bullshit," said all the men in unison.

"I am not Manuela," said the little girl. "I am your worst nightmare." She squirmed out of Maggie’s arms, climbed up on the windowsill, and, before Maggie could grab her, launched herself directly at a man’s face. The men had been laughing to see her antics; now some of them guffawed as she tried to wrestle her target to the ground, to no avail. But some of them were reaching to grab her.

"Such a shame that none of those men exist," said Rafael’s voice from behind Maggie. The little girl fell to the pavement as all the blue-scarved men vanished.

In the sky, the sunlight grew a little brighter.

Maggie turned to see Rafael, with Alejandra beside him. "Scary power you have, old friend. How often will you use it?"

Rafael glanced at the sky. "Don’t force me into that." He moved to the window and looked over the sill at the little girl. "And you, kid, don’t go getting yourself in trouble and force us to save you. As if you didn’t know how dangerous things are around here."

"Stuff it!" said the little girl. "This is intolerable! Everyone wishes to be young but I did NOT wish to be this young! Do you have any idea what I will be going through again in seven years? Do you know what I'll be going through for the next forty years? Nobody in their right mind looks forward to that crap! Now if you will excuse me, I need to go blow off steam by kicking some shins." She took off running down the alley.

Maggie sighed fonly, amused and exasperated alike. Maybe this was what it was like to be a parent.

Then she realized what the girl might be going to do. "Shit, everyone out the window. Follow that girl." She leapt through it and onto the alley pavement, taking off running just in time to see the girl vanish around a corner.









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