with them,” Chloe said, bristling. “Call it patriarchy.”
Aiden rubbed the back of his head, and took a seat, along with Avery.
“So, we can expect some new kinds of tourists in the near future,” Bailey groaned. “Bad enough we get the murder enthusiasts.”
“It will be fine,” Aiden said. “It has happened in the past, and it will happen again. We’ll order some souvenirs and make a joke out of it. Denying it will only draw more attention.”
“Oh,” Avery smiled, “little green witches with pointy hats. Maybe do a Halloween theme in this place.”
Frances looked like she might have an apoplexy.
“Fine,” Bailey said, dropping the paper onto the table and changing the subject before Frances dropped a hurricane on someone. “Dala wanted help from us, right? So, we give it to her.”
Frances and Chloe bit their lips, and looked at one another.
Bailey waited. She glanced at Aiden. He was rubbing his jaw.
“Is there… some problem with that?” Bailey asked. “There’s a kid missing. We can find her, right?”
“Probably,” Frances said. “But what then?”
“Then she gets to go home and her mother isn’t devastated?” Bailey asked, incredulous. “Are we discussing this? Really? Chloe—mother—put yourself in Dala’s shoes. Can you really just leave this up to chance?”
It was Aiden that came to the ladies’ defense. “Bailey, think about it. Dala asked for help; magical help. If magic is used to find the girl, it will confirm her suspicions.”
“Fine,” Bailey said, her voice getting louder. She didn’t care. It was ludicrous that they were even having this conversation. “So she knows and we tell her not to tell anyone, and she won’t because she’s just glad we helped her get her little girl back.”
“And when there’s another problem, and someone has us solve that one, too?” Frances asked. “Before long, the scorecard starts to add up.”
“But we can be careful—” Avery started.
“After that,” Frances went on, “someone gets sick. They want us to fix that, too, but it’s something we can’t heal. The tide turns.”
“People start blaming magic for problems,” Chloe said, though it clearly pained her to do so. “Soon, we’re responsible for every ill that befalls the community. When people don’t have something tangible to be angry at, they’ll grasp for something they can get their hands on. We would be easy targets. It’s easy to prove you can do something with magic, Bailey—it’s not easy to prove you can’t or didn’t.”
Bailey held up both hands, and tempered her fury. “We can at least work something behind the scenes. We can do something that will help us locate Isabelle, and then use that information. Make it look like it was chance. We can… scry or something, make sure she’s at least… that she’s…”
None of them wanted to say it, so no one did.
After a taut silence, Chloe sighed. “We can try something. But if we find her, we can’t simply go to the Sheriff and tell them. If we do, it either confirms that we used magic, or it casts suspicion on us. So… we confirm that Isabelle is… alive… and figure out where she is, and then make sure that one of us is in the search group assigned to that zone tomorrow.”
“And if someone took her?” Bailey asked.
“Then,” Aiden said, “we will find out who, and that becomes a different matter entirely.”
“A person, we can deal with,” Frances agreed.
“We might even be able to draw Isabelle back home in the event she ran away,” Chloe finished. She smiled at Bailey. “We aren’t entirely helpless here. We just have to be very, very cautious. You know that, Bailey. I know you do.”
Her anger gradually evaporating, Bailey huffed once and closed her eyes to let herself find a calm center. “Okay,” she said. “As long as we aren’t just… standing by.”
“Good,” Chloe said. She neared Bailey, and took her hand. “I do empathize with Dala.
Learning to Kill: Stories